The Freyja Club

Return to Paris

It was almost one year to the day of my initiation into the Freyja Club that I learned that the potential acquisition we had been pursuing in France was now seriously re-considering our offer.

I had been on an Air France red-eye flight out of La Guardia a year previously and was in pursuit of this very company when a mysterious invitation appeared on my seat at about 3 a.m. which introduced me to the existence of the Freyja Club. To say that it was a life-changing event would be a gross understatement.

The Freyja Club was founded in the mid-1890s in London by a group of men (and a few women) as an exclusive retreat from the stifling sexual repression of the Victorian Age when social conventions made discussion of sex and sexuality taboo. This sexual puritanism drove sex underground. Women were personified sexual objects and as a result, the club adopted a unique code of conduct. While in the Freyja Club, all females, be they staff or guests, are required to be nude, but there is no such rule for men.

Over the years, the Freyja Club expanded to its current twenty locations around the world. Most are located in Financial Centers like New York, Paris, and Geneva, but there are a few in exotic destinations such as Miami, Los Angeles, and Monte Carlo. The nearest one to me happens to be in Washington D.C. and it's somewhat unique in that Washington's stock-in-trade is political power rather than monetary power.

During my visit to Paris the year previously, I became aware that there were warring factions in the company that we were interested in acquiring. This isn't particularly unusual, especially in privately owned enterprises that are now in their third or fourth generation of ownership. There always seems to be a small group that wants to maintain the 'family business,' and a larger group that wants to 'cash out.' The fact that I was now on my way back to Paris to resume negotiations told me that the 'cash out' folks had won.

As I mentioned, I had originally been initiated into the Freyja Club in Paris and the prospect of seeing Danielle du Val, the club's Managing Director again was a most pleasant thought, but just in case I made a Trans-Atlantic call from my home phone.

Freyja Clubs only have one incoming phone line and I've deduced that this is one of the ways that they have remained largely anonymous for almost ninety years.

The phone was answered on the first ring by a female voice. "Bonjour, eff-cee." When I introduced myself the voice responded in accented English, "How may I be of help?" I explained who I was and asked if it was possible to speak with Mme. du Val. Two minutes later I heard Danielle's

voice.

"This is a nice surprise, I was just thinking about you. I was just reviewing the list of the new members we initiated this year and, of course, your name was on the list. It brought back a most pleasant memory and I wondered how you're doing."

For the next two hours we talked like long lost friends which, to a degree, I guessed we were. I told her about my obsession with learning about how the club operated and had been able to survive as long as it had. I told her about my experiences in the clubs in New York, Miami, Tokyo and, of course, Washington and some of the interesting stories I'd heard, but mostly lived, and how those experiences had led me to begin to chronicle my journey. Danielle listened attentively, but warned me about being 'too curious.'

When I finally got to the point of the call, that I would be back in Paris the following week, Danielle squealed with joy and insisted that she and her husband Phillipe take me to dinner when I arrived. That sounded good to me. I had been most impressed by Danielle and Phillipe and was more than interested in building a friendship with this fascinating couple.

For a lot of practical reasons, most Teans-Atlantic flights between North America and Europe are red-eyes. So three days later, I landed at de Gaulle at seven a.m. In the morning local time and was met by Vincent Martell who was one of the accountants that we had retained to be part of our acquisition team.

Because we would be using one of the hotel conference rooms for our base of operations it made it impossible to consider staying at the Freyja Club. Such are the constraints imposed by travel for business as opposed to travel for pleasure.

It was about a thirty-minute ride to the Hôtel Barrière, a Grand Hôtel which is located in the village of Enghien-les-bains, a Paris suburb in the northwest quadrant of the city. The five-star hotel sits next to a thousand-acre lake and is less than a block from the casino that bears the same name. I doubted that I would be visiting there, but we'd see.

It was way too early to call the Freyja Club and finalize plans for the evening get-together with Danielle and Phillipe, so I checked in and inquired if I had any messages - there were none. I took a quick shower and an abbreviated look at the complimentary copy of the European edition of USAToday, dressed in a charcoal business suit, and left to meet our acquisition team in one of the meeting rooms on the second level of the hotel.

When I got to the meeting room, I was surprised to find three people instead of the two I had expected. Vincent introduced me to his associate Tomas, who would be the legal liaison with the lawyers when we got to that point, but he then turned and introduced me to Raul. It turned out that Raul had been a classmate of Vincent at the National University, and like him was an accountant, but just not any accountant. Until two years ago he had worked for our target company.

Whenever we evaluate the "fit" of a prospective acquisition, we always try to find a way to get some insider information. There are a lot of ways to do this; some are legal and some are not, others may be technically "legal," but are as immoral as hell. My rule is simple; it can't be illegal or immoral.

Raul had left the company on his own volition and he assured us that he wasn't bound by any non-disclosure agreements. He was the perfect "insider" for our purposes. Of course, I knew that we would be paying him for his time and information. We quickly agreed on a per diem for his time, but all information didn't have the same value. I told Raul we would pay for information, but he'd have to trust me to be fair about how much it was worth.

Raul had a short conversation with Vincent, which I was certain could be paraphrased as "Can I trust this guy?" When Raul turned back to me we shook hands and I guessed we had a deal.

I wanted to discuss the two pages of questions that I'd written down from the review that we'd already conducted, but I've found through experience that the most valuable information is often something you've never even thought to ask about. So, for the next three hours, I had Raul just talk without providing any structure.

It was enlightening, to say the least. Not only did he seem to have an excellent memory for detail he also was able to provide some insight about the people that I would eventually be sitting down with at the negotiating table. I was so impressed that I went back to my room and opened the small safe that was located there.

At the time the Franc exchange rate was ff4.5 to the dollar, so I peeled off five one thousand Franc notes, relocked the safe, and returned to the meeting room. When I laid the money, in front of Raul, his eyes got big and he couldn't stop saying "Merci."

Truly, his insights might eventually prove to be worth more than a measly $1,100 but he'd already earned that much.

We skipped lunch to go down my list of unanswered questions and I was able to scratch about a quarter of them off. I gave Raul another thousand Francs and he left beaming. I had to chuckle to myself since I had no illusions that the French equivalent of the IRS would ever see any of that money reported as income.

It was after 4 p.m. and we'd wrapped up everything I had planned for this first meeting. We'd be getting together again on Monday and we'd begin talking to bankers, clients, and in some cases, government officials. Some of these conversations would be held directly, but most would be through intermediaries so that the real purpose behind the questions could remain confidential. I thanked and shook hands with Vincent, Tomas, and Raul, but before they left I pulled Vincent aside and whispered that I was giving him a thousand Franc "finder's bonus." In my experience, these unexpected bonuses always ended up generating benefits that far outweighed the modest financial cost and I was constantly on the lookout for opportunities to use them frequently. Back at the office, the CFO called these my 'slush fund.'

When I got back to the room, I called the Freyja Club and after I identified myself, I was told that I had a message from Danielle. She and Phillipe wanted me to meet them at the Auberge du Bonheur, an exclusive restaurant adjacent to the Bois de Boulogne at seven p.m. After accounting for travel time. I knew I had about two hours before I had to leave, so I headed to the bar, located on the top floor of the hotel.

To say that the bar was spectacular would be an understatement. The marble-topped bar looked out through huge picture windows on the Lac du Enghien where the edifice of the casino dominated the right bank and several fountains in the lake sent varied multicolored plumes of water into the sky. I found the view exhilarating, but the fact that, at the moment, I had no one to share it with was depressing. I hoped that sometime during my stay, I'd have an occasion to remedy this.

I busied myself by mentally reviewing what I had learned earlier in the day from Raul and I was pleased that I had a much better understanding of the personalities and tensions prevalent on the other side of what I hoped would be a negotiating table. In fact, I became so absorbed that I almost lost track of time. Fortunately, I ended up with a cab driver who knew all of the back alleys and shortcuts of Paris and I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early.

Danielle and Phillipe were standing near the hostess station when I walked in the front door and she immediately stepped in my direction and gave me a nice hug while she exuberantly welcomed me back to Paris. I appreciated the feeling of her body pressed hard against me and my mind rocketed back a year when I recalled the time when no clothing encumbered our embrace.

Phillipe was equally welcoming and his manly handshake was in sharp contrast to most Frenchmen that I'd met over the years. I don't understand why mostly they feel like grasping cold fish, but they do. Soon we were led to a circular booth in one of the corners of the restaurant and I watched Danielle hike her skirt to take a seat between Phillipe and myself. I started to make a comment about the rich appointments of the establishment when Danielle interjected, "This is where Phillipe took me on my first date."

I remembered that Danielle and Phillipe had previously shared the story of their 'first date,' so I looked around and asked, "Are you going to show me the little private nook in front of the big fireplace later?" Both of my dining partners laughed and complimented me on having an excellent memory for details. I allowed that it was a skill that was critical in my profession. Since Phillipe was a lawyer himself, he just nodded at my statement and he and I fell into a short conversation about the company we were attempting to acquire and the reason for my visit. Soon, I felt myself becoming as much at ease with Phillipe as I was with Danielle.

The ambiance, the food and drink, the superb service, and the easy conversation with my dining companions soon merged into what I can only describe as one of the most delightful two hours that I could recall spending in some time. Of course, we talked about the Freyja Club and I shared with them some of the observations and my evolving hypothesis about how it conducted its operations. Both listened attentively and I noticed some raised eyebrows when I shared a few insights, but Danielle and Phillipe chose not to comment, not that I expected otherwise.

The big surprise came as we were finishing an excellent Crème brûlée when Phillipe leaned forward and said that he had another 'appointment' and he had to leave. Would I make sure that Danielle was safely delivered back to their home?

I was more than surprised at this sudden turn of events, but I tried to look nonplussed and assured him that I certainly would. With that, Phillipe kissed Danielle and I saw her squeeze his hand just before he turned and smiled back at us over his shoulder before disappearing through the door.

When I turned, I found Danielle staring at me. She reached across the table and her hand found mine and she asked in a soft voice, "You've had a long day, I'm sure you're tired, n'est pas?"

The fact that I was suddenly alone with one of the sexiest women on the planet, fresh with the knowledge that her husband had just obviously left me with his wife and his tacit permission to do with her as I pleased as long as I delivered her back to him had the effect of suddenly arousing me. I smiled back at Danielle and suggested that if she would show me the private nook where Phillipe had first seduced her, I might be 'energized' enough to be a suitable companion for the rest of the evening.

I learned that Phillipe had already paid our bill, but I gave our waiter and the maitre each an additional hundred Franc tip and Danielle led me down a short flight of steps to the bar area. The huge fireplace with the three loveseats placed in a U-shaped pattern was just as I had imagined them from Danielle's description. When I guided her to the one in the center, I asked, "Here?" When she nodded, I indicated that she should sit, and I quickly joined her.

We were quickly approached by a hostess and I turned to Danielle, "It was Gran Marnier's wasn't it?" and when she nodded, that's what I ordered. When Danielle commented, "You're certainly full of surprises," I knew that she had already caught on to the fact that I was re-creating the seduction scene from her first date with Phillipe. I knew that had ended up in all-night lovemaking in Phillipe's apartment, and I was subtly suggesting that we should play it out to the same conclusion, the only difference would be that it would be in the Hôtel Barrière.

How we kept our hands off each other in the bar I will never know. I hope that I paid the tab because I have no recollection of doing so. Neither do I remember the cab ride back to my hotel. But I do know that we left a trail of clothing between the entrance and the bedroom. All of which was achieved without a word being spoken since I'd taken her hand and led her out of the bar. One reason for the silence was that our tongues were mostly in each other's mouths, and that made conversation quite difficult.

I once wrote that there is nothing sexier than a beautiful woman wrapped in silk. I lied. Because the most erotic sight now stood naked in front of me; Danielle's Breasts heaved while I sensed desire blazing in her eyes. I had a sudden awareness of the condition of my cock and I wondered about my sudden virility. Hardness is a subjective condition but I felt as though my cock was made of stainless steel and covered in a skin of silk. Danielle's desire was equally obvious; her nipples stood proudly erect in the center of her large pink areolas, and just as I remembered, her mons sloped enticingly to the small vee of soft dark hair pointing down to the junction of her legs where the slit of her sex glistened from slick juices of feminine arousal.

A moment seemed like an hour as we stood frozen looking at each other. At six-foot and just under two hundred pounds, I was conscious that I was less imposing than Phllipe, but I knew that women viewed such things differently and I thought that my daily five-mile run and three-times-a-week workouts allowed me to present a not-so-bad impression. When we reached out and touched it was as if we both reacted to some unseen and unheard command. From there the subsequent fusing of minds and bodies is almost impossible to describe. We became one. Our lips met trying to draw even more from each other, our bodies melded; flesh joining flesh. Her pussy left a trail of juices down my leg as my cock lavished precum across her abdomen; each of us endowing a liquid testament of our needs. Unbelievably my prick grew even more rigid till it was almost painful; every ridge and vein distended and pulsing.

We ended up lying side by side on the bed. I knew without being told that Danielle's breasts were hyper-sensitive but instinct is powerful and I felt my mouth being drawn to her sagging flesh. As I suckled and nibbled her proud nipples she spoke for the first time since leaving the restaurant. The utterance was somewhere between a sigh and a whimper and it was a long moan of just my name as first her hand reached for, and encircled my penis, and her head dipped and found my lips with hers. She took hold of me and began firmly stroking me up and down. I could feel her soft hand rippling along the ridges and bumping over my sensitive hard glans.

I abandoned her lips and repositioned myself to first, tongue-bathe her flawless breasts, and then to trail down her abdomen towards her sex. We had shifted into almost a head-to-toe position as I continued my descent and her hand retained contact with my cock. When my lips encountered her pubic hair I noted its soft silken texture and I pressed my tongue hard against the slope of her pussy. To reach further, I pushed Danielle onto her back and I rolled between her legs just as she spread her thighs to accommodate my obvious desire. My tongue explored, this time around the pouting lips of her pussy literally lapping the honey that seeped from between them. I paused to insert a finger, which I curled to locate her G-spot as the flat of my tongue massaged her clit. Danielle's fingers wrapped in my hair as she pushed my head toward her clit which I could see peeking out from beneath the skin of the little hood that covered it. Her hips rose to meet my questing tongue and fingers and her back began to arch. She was very close; her breath was rasping in her throat and I sensed that she had thrown her head back. The instant before she came she pushed my head away and her hips collapsed causing my finger to slide out of her and my lips to lose contact with her cunt. I heard her emit a long tortured moan and she rolled onto her side with her knees raised to her chest.

I pushed up beside her quivering body and wrapped my arms around her. I could feel the stiffness of my cock as it was pressed into the warmth between our bodies and I was surprised by how nice it felt in just that position. I closed my eyes for a moment and re-ran the last few moments again in my mind. I could still taste Danielle's pussy on my lips and while all women taste pretty much the same, her drool was a little oilier and a little sweeter than most and I wondered if I should ever mention that fact to her.

I was still thinking about it when I felt Danielle slide off the bed and onto her knees while pulling my legs with her. I grabbed a pillow and balled it under my head as it became apparent what Danielle wanted to do. I felt her take me in her hand and she held my stiffness aside as she pressed her face into the hollow at the junction of my leg and torso. I felt her licking and nuzzling her nose into the space where I knew there was an abundance of male pheromones, and I watched as she took her fill.

Soon, her lips and tongue slid over to capture one of my balls in the loose sac beneath my cock. She took one partially into her mouth and rolled it with her lips. I felt a jolt of pleasure rip through me and sensed my shaft pulse in her hand. I don't know how many cocks have found their way into Danielle's mouth, but I know it's been quite a few, so it was no surprise to me that she had acquired a high degree of mastery in the art.