Hidden Pleasures 1

Jennifer flopped down in one of the overstuffed arm chairs near the fire place. She put her feet up on a stool and wrapped the white terry cloth robe tighter, snuggling into the soft fabric and took a sip of a wonderful red wine, compliments of her employer. She closed her eyes and relaxed, letting out a long sigh. Rain softly drummed against the windows and the sounds of traffic drifted up to her faintly. The transatlantic flight and several hours of meetings had worn her out. All she wanted to do was rest.

Jennifer had worked at the company for nearly two years and was a rising star. At the age of 28 she had brokered more important deals than people twice her age. Her employer valued her hard work and had flown her to Paris to assist in closing some important real estate deals. Everything had gone smoothly but she'd been awake for nearly thirty hours. After the meeting earlier today, she had overheard two people talking about some sort of party tonight, but she didn't know anymore than that. She hadn't really paid much attention since she was too tired anyway. Jet lag was catching up with her now and she desperately needed some sleep.

A knock on the door startled her and she jumped to her feet. Who could that be? she thought. Jennifer went to the door, placing her hand on the handle, but didn't open it.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Housekeeping," a woman's voice replied, a strong French accent in her voice. "I have a package for a Miss Jennifer Fielding."

Jennifer looked through the peephole and saw a woman in front of her door but the distorted view of her face was about all she could make out. Jennifer opened the door and was greeted by one of the hotel maids. She was petit, with short dark hair, probably in her mid thirties. She had a warm smile. In her hands was an enormous box, probably three feet square.

"This was left for you at the front desk," the woman said.

"Are you sure you have the right room?" Jennifer asked.

"Oui Mademoiselle, room 415. It says so on the card."

Jennifer open the card that was attached to the top of the box.

There was only one line written on the card in a crisp, neat handwriting that she didn't recognize.

'Nine O'clock' was all it said.

She turned the card over to see the logo of the company she worked for, nothing else.

"There is no name here, do you know who it's from?"

"No, I'm sorry I don't Mademoiselle. It was delivered by courier. That is all I know."

Jennifer took the box and laid it on the bed, then grabbed her purse and handed the maid a twenty dollar bill.

"I'm sorry, I haven't changed any money yet, I hope this is all right."

"Oui Mademoiselle, merci," she said as she turned to leave.

Jennifer closed the door and returned to the bed to inspect the package. She flipped open the lid of the box to reveal a beautiful red sleeveless designer dress. Who ever sent this, they had good taste. She checked the tag, it was her size. Lifting the dress and laying it on the bed she turned back to the box. Inside was a pair of stylish black shoes - also her size - with heels so high she was unsure whether she could walk in them without breaking an ankle. There was a bustier trimmed in lace, a garter belt and seamed stockings, all black. Strangely there were no panties included. She chuckled to herself. Someone was clearing sending a message. But who? Was it someone she knew, someone she worked with? Maybe. But why?

Although the dress was amazing, Jennifer decided she wasn't up for a night on the town, especially with no panties. She could always say she wasn't feeling well. Folding the dress, she put everything neatly back in the box.

Jennifer closed the lid but paused for a moment before she turned away to run a bath. It really is a beautiful dress, she thought.

As the tub was filling she poured herself another glass of wine and pulled her long dark hair up into a ponytail. Untying her robe she hung it on the back of the door and stood on the cool tile floor of the bathroom, sipping her drink and studying her reflection while she waited. She turned, looking at herself from different angles, happy with what she saw. Jennifer took care of herself and it showed. Her gaze traveled from her long legs past the soft triangle of hair on her mound, over her flat stomach, to her smallish but round breasts. Jennifer's hand traveled across her belly to cupped her right breast. Her nipples hardened slightly at the touch and she pinched one between her finger and thumb, pulling it away from her body.

She took another drink and set the glass on the countertop. Jennifer pinched her other nipple, twisting and rolling them both now, her eyes fixed on her reflection. She squeezed hard, which sent a shock straight between her legs. She jerked a little from the pain but didn't let go. Her pussy tingled slightly and she trailed her fingers slowly down, both hands caressing her lips. She was extremely wet and sticky, her fingers sliding easily back and forth over the soft, supple skin.

Jennifer noticed the tub was nearly full and quickly turned off the water to avoid it overflowing. She tested the water with her toe. It was hot, almost too hot to bear, but that was how she liked it. She had gotten herself rather excited so she grabbed her waterproof vibrator and sank beneath the bubbles, the heat seeping into her skin, soothing tired muscles. The tub was huge and she stretched out resting her head on a rolled up towel at one end. Relaxing, she sighed and let her hand lazily drift back between her legs, sliding over her slit, to slip into her pussy. She worked her fingers in and out, coating them with her juice, then her slick fingers travelled lower, tentatively probing her ass. Jennifer turned slightly on her side and reaching behind her, pushed her middle finger as far a she could in her ass. "Ohhh God...," she moaned. She fucked her finger slowly, moving her hips. With her free hand she managed to twist the power switch of the vibrator and lowered it into the water. She touched the buzzing tip to her pussy, teasing her sensitive clit, then pushed it deep between her lips. It wasn't long before Jennifer was furiously fucking both her holes, the vibrations arousing her pussy and ass simultaneously.

This amount of stimulation soon had her thrashing around, water slopping on the floor, but she didn't care. She only had one goal; to fuck herself silly.

"Ohh.. Ohh.. fuuuck," she exclaimed as she came hard, her ass twitching around her finger.

Closing her eyes she let out a sigh. "Holy shit that was good," she mumbled. She took a few minutes to compose herself but the contents of the package kept returning to her thoughts.

It really is a beautiful dress, she thought. Nope, no way, she was going to stay right here and relax. But she kept thinking of the note. 'Nine O'clock.' What did that mean? Was someone coming here? Was she to be somewhere?

Jennifer's curiosity had always gotten the best of her and the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know what this was about.

All her weariness gone now, she stood up, soapy bubbles clinging to her naked body. Drying off quickly she didn't even bother with the robe and returned to the bed, staring at the box. She flipped open the lid and in that moment made her decision.

Jennifer slipped into the bustier fastening the clasps in the front. It was tight, but the way it pushed her breasts up she had cleavage, something she wasn't used to seeing.

She put the garter belt around her waist, then slide the toes of her left foot into one of the stockings. Pulling it up she attached the straps, doing the same with the other leg. She reached down to adjust one of the heels and ran a hand up her long leg, the silk amazingly smooth under her fingers. It gave her goose bumps. Slipping on the shoes and fastening the buckles she walked around, apprehensively testing them and found they were surprisingly comfortable.

The hotel she was staying at was a magnificent building, at least two hundred years old. The room she had was lavishly furnished including a large four poster bed with side tables, a writing desk near the window and two chairs by the fireplace. There were thick oriental area rugs over the parquet wood floor, and dark velvet wallpaper. Typical old French decor. There were paintings and also several very large mirrors with ornate gilt frames.

Jennifer stared at her reflection. Turning her head she could see herself in two of the mirrors at the same time.

Damn, she thought, this looks fantastic.

She turned so she could check the seams on her stockings. A little adjusting and she was satisfied. Jennifer's gaze traveled to her ass. She loved its perfect round shape. Her posture in the high heels seemed to accentuate it somehow. Running her hand over her left cheek she squeezed, then slapped her ass, the sound echoing off the walls of the large room. It stung a little but after a second, she did it again.

She spread her feet apart and bent at the waist to grab a hold of the thick wood post at the corner of the bed. Looking at her profile in the mirror her mind flashed to Will, a co-worker of hers. Jennifer pictured him behind her, his left hand on her hip, the other gripping a handful of her hair as he thrust into her. She wasn't quite sure why he had popped into her thoughts and it surprised her.

William "Will" Davis had flown with her to assist with the deal they had been working on for the last few months. Jennifer didn't really know much about his private life. They worked together at the office but didn't socialize outside of work.

Will was average looking. Actually everything about him seemed average. Height, weight, hair colour, like millions of other men his age. The only thing that stood out about him was the colour of his eyes; they were almost gold. He was very professional at work but didn't stand out. He wore off the rack suits that always seemed a bit crumpled. Will was nice, just not the man of your dreams material.

Jennifer remembered something she heard at work a few months ago. Like any workplace, her office had the gossipers and there was a story circulating about Will. He liked to use the company's fitness room early each day and after his workout he would shower and be in his office before most everyone else arrived for the day. One morning he was running a bit late and another man from the office saw him coming from the shower. Apparently, Will Davis was hung like a horse. It didn't take long for the word to spread amongst the busy bodies. She wasn't sure if that was why he entered her thoughts but it was a good reason.

Jennifer slapped her ass again, savouring the sting. The pain aroused her, stirring something deep within her. Next, she gave her pussy a gentle smack, rubbed it, then hit it a second time with more force, the blow landing squarely on her clit. A shock went through her, her whole body tingling.

Jennifer looked down at her fingers as she moved her hand away, they were sticky and shiny in the light from the fire. She couldn't believe she was still so wet. Her hand drifted back over her mound. One finger pressed between her lips, penetrating easily. A second and third joined the first, sliding in and out, pushing deep. Her thumb rubbed circles over her clit while she fucked her thrusting fingers, moaning softly.

She could feel her second orgasm slowly building. Her fingers would get her off eventually but her cunt needed to be filled. Unfortunately, her 'toy box' was in the bathroom. If she took a break to retrieve it she'd loose the moment.

Searching around she spotted a hairbrush she had left on the bed earlier. It had a nice thick handle, perfect for what she needed. Grasping the brush by the bristles, she reached around behind her and eased it between her wet lips. It was bigger than she expected and she caught her breath as it stretched her open, but she pushed hard, her cunt swallowing it up.

Jennifer turned her head towards the mirror to watch as she fucked the brush. She worked it slowly at first, taking it almost out, then thrusting back in, the rubber grip slick with her juice. She pulled the brush out and drummed her clit with the handle, the light tapping driving her crazy. She pushed the brush back in, feeling the texture of the rubber grip as it slid past her lips. It wasn't long before she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, thrusting the handle deep into her pussy, while her hips rocked, intensifying the pleasure.

She pictured Will again and called out his name. "That's it Will, fuck me. Ohhh yess, fuck me hard!"

Faster and faster, she was breathing quick now. Her knuckles white where she gripped the bedpost. She was close, only a little more. "Oh God, I'm cumming!" she shouted. A few quick strokes and she plunged the brush to the hilt, then yanked it free. Cum squirted out, splashing her inner thighs.

The orgasm racked her body and she shook, dropping the brush. Jennifer's knees were weak and she sank to the floor, panting. It took a few minutes for her to catch her breath, her pussy dripping, making a small puddle on the floor.

When she could stand, Jennifer retrieved a towel from the bathroom to clean up. She pressed it against her pussy, and shivered slightly, still aroused.

She stared at the spot on the floor. This was definitely a first. Her orgasm had been extremely intense. She couldn't help but think that imagining Will fucking her had been the reason. She wiped up the mess, throwing the towel with the others in a hamper. The tops of her stockings were damp but that couldn't be helped.

Jennifer's fantasy had thrown off her schedule and she had to hurry if she was going to be ready on time. She quickly did her hair, deciding to let it hang loose. Bright red lipstick to match the dress put the final touches on her makeup. Stepping into the dress she pulled it up, zipping the back. She smoothed out a couple wrinkles, checking herself in the mirror.

At that moment the phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Bonjour, this is the front desk. Your car is waiting Mademoiselle," said a man's voice.

"Oh, okay thanks. I'll be right down," she replied and hung up the phone.

So, this is what the note meant by nine o'clock, she thought. "Well, here we go." Giving herself a once over on the mirror she told her reflection, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," and left the room.

When she exited the elevator she was greeted by a tall man in a dark suit and chauffeur's hat. He was the same driver that had picked them up at the airport when they arrived in France.

"The car is this way, if you would like to follow me," he said politely.

Jennifer followed him through the entrance to a black Town Car parked in front of the hotel. He held the door for her then went around and got behind the wheel. He pulled away from the curb and merged with the busy traffic.

Jennifer tried to make small talk with the driver, and while polite, he wasn't overly talkative. Eventually she gave up and sat back staring out the window at the city. It had stopped raining but everything was still wet, herself included.

It wasn't long before they turned off the main road. A minute later they passed through iron gates placed in a high stone wall that surrounded a large estate. Jennifer recognized it immediately as one of the properties she had helped her company with that afternoon. The car stopped at the entrance behind another vehicle. She waited for the couple ahead of them to make their way toward the house. They were both dressed very well. He wore a tuxedo, she a lovely blue dress.

"Thank you," she said to the driver, who acknowledged her with a nod.

Her door was opened and she was helped out of the car by a rather tall, thin man in a dark suit. One of the staff for tonight's party she guessed. Jennifer started toward the entrance, lit by bright lamps when he said "Don't forget your mask Mademoiselle."

"Excuse me, my what?"

"Your mask. For the party," he replied, holding a feathery mask out to her.

Taking it from him she walked up the path, following the couple. At the entrance, two doormen ushered guests inside making sure they wore their masks. Jennifer played along and was greeted when she entered. She had absolutely no idea who it was she was speaking with as the woman wore a similar mask. She was young, about Jennifer's age and slightly shorter with blond hair.

"Welcome," she said, "I'm glad you could make it. Please enjoy yourself." Her voice seemed familiar but Jennifer couldn't place it at the moment.

The blonde showed Jennifer into an adjacent room filled with other party goers. The greeting, she discovered was a generic one as she heard the woman say the same to man that arrived just after her. Maybe she was mistaken about the voice.

She was feeling a little confused and out of place, and was about to ask what was going on when someone at the end of the room asked for everyone's attention.

"I would like to thank everyone for coming this evening. We have a very special night planned so please enjoy yourselves," announced a large man Jennifer would guess was in his sixties.

As he said this, several women entered carrying trays filled with glasses of champagne and circulated through the guests. Jennifer's mouth hung open as she stared at the servers. The host continued to speak and people listened, but she tuned him out and just stared.

It was their 'uniform', if you could call it that, that struck Jennifer. They wore high heels, stockings and a tiny apron that covered almost nothing. That was it.

"Champagne?" she was offered.

"Ahhh....yes thank you," she stammered, taking a glass.

As the girl went passed, Jennifer saw that the server was naked under the apron, her ass swaying as she walked away.

"A toast," their host was saying. "To old friends and new."

The crowd toasted their host, but Jennifer ignored this and watched as one of the other guests waved a server over. As he took a glass from the tray he put his hand on the girl's bare ass. She stood there while he groped her as if this was perfectly normal. His female companion exchanged her glass while she reaching under the front of the apron. Jennifer saw her hand moving, clearly fingering the serving girl who stood like a statue. When they had had their fun they thanked her and moved on.

What the hell was this? she thought.

People were socializing, chatting and laughing while they sipped their champagne. No one seemed to think that mostly naked women passing out drinks was out if the ordinary. They must have attended this sort of party before.

Jennifer drifted into an adjoining room. Here, in the centre of the room other women lay on tables, hors d'oeuvres covering them, their bodies like human serving trays. One had an array of cheeses fanned out across her torso, another puffed pastries. One was covered in sliced vegetables, several dips in bowls placed between her legs. Men and women caressed them, fingers brushing nipples as they filled small plates. Six men standing along the walls looking like Chippendale dancers wearing only a bow tie and cuffs, served wine. She noticed they were in various states of arousal, one of them was fully erect. A woman gripped his cock, stroking it slowly while he poured her drink, nearly making him spill. Jennifer heard the woman's friend say, "Lucy, leave the poor man alone. If you keep that up he is going to make a mess."

"Fine," said Lucy, her lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. As they turned to leave she said, "I'll be back." The women walked away arm in arm, giggling.

Jennifer was having second thoughts about her decision to attend this party. She could get kinky but this was getting weird. Maybe some fresh air would help.

She found her way back to the entrance. There was a commotion up ahead, something was happening but she couldn't see and had to squeeze past several people. The foyer was dominated by a large marble staircase that curved up to the second floor. About a third of the way up, a man - one of the guests - lay on the stairs, his pants undone. A woman sat a step below him, leaning over, her head in his lap, sucking his cock.