A Solemn Agreement Is Broen

A solemn agreement is broken

Three Graces, and the fourth

by

Vitavie

SOMEWHERE DURING A CHAT BETWEEN PETER AND VITA

'.............................'

'So, are you proposing we meet? In person? When we met here, we agreed not to. Never.'

'Yes, we did. I know we did.'

'We would never meet. To keep things pure.'

'Yes, yes, I know. We thought we could be more honest if we would not meet. Not be distracted by the physical. And thus cherish the lust better. For longer. Forever. But...'

'But...? There would be no "buts", we agreed.'

'I guess I am weak...'

'Ah! Men! The weaker species, the same old story! LOL.'

'Phew... The 'LOL' saves my face. But I have to agree, I may be weak! Still, I've just got to see you.'

'Because you crave the body, can't be satisfied with just my mind and soul! You know those are the superior entities, the best to possess! The body, well, simply trails and is so easily uneasy...'

'I agree they are the superior things! I am in love with your mind. And in lust! Is it right to fall in love with a woman through the mind, as I have, before one has met the body? Yes, it is right, I am sure. But is it wrong to then want the body too? It may be inferior compared to the mind and soul, but not "inferior" as such.'

'It's not wrong to want the body, but it may the beginning of the end. We may not hit off in the new dimension in the first place, or burn out before too long. The intense lull in the desiring after a man's orgasm is a case in point. Hindsight may prove that we should have kept meeting the way we have thus far and keep the lust at a towering high.'

'I am willing to run that risk. I just can't imagine it is high, the risk, given the rapport we have been building.'

'Very well then, Peter. Let's burn our bridges and meet. Just don't say I didn't warn you!'

'Well... But how about you? Aren't you burning to meet me?'

'I have made my position clear. And you know that I know that what we have built is valuable. This we'll now risk. But we'll meet. I will send you instructions within a few days.'

'Instructions? But...'

'Yes, a time and place. What else? I will decide those, if you don't mind. Bye for now, Peter. Until we meet.'

VITA LEAVES THE CHAT

-----------------------------------------------

Sometimes people meet online and have to trust that they are who and what they say they are. Very well. Does it matter if they are not? Or is it possible to simply accept the illusion? Well, yes, that is quite possible. It only matters if you decide to meet in person. Then it matters that the woman in question is a woman indeed, with dark brown hair, of a certain age, and that the man actually turns out to be a good man, not a joker, a rapist or a murderer.

----------------------------------------------

We agreed to meet at Café Baier in Berlin. You have never been to this café before.

How did you expect to find me? I would be there first and you would recognise me because I would be dressed in bright red from top to bottom and be reading a book.

It's a bright summer day. When you enter the café, your eyes need some time to get used to the semi-darkness. Café Baier is a large L-shaped room with many columns and corners. One doesn't have enough eyes to take in all the details, let alone see beyond them. The lack of overview makes you a little nervous, even though you have assumed the dominant role. There is no woman in red staring you in the face. You wonder why it has to be like this, why I didn't make sure you would see me right away. Slowly you begin to walk around and survey the room, including all the nooks, crannies and alcoves.

Finally, she is there! A woman in red, more or less the right age....

But she is talking to someone, even though she has an open book in front of her. She doesn't look in your direction as you stand still for half a minute looking at her. You decide to keep walking. You pass many people, mostly women, in pairs or groups. Not another in red... Was the woman you just spotted the one you were looking for after all?

But then, in a hidden alcove, you see two more women in red talking to each other. They notice you standing there, interrupt their conversation and both look in your direction, confidently, ironically. And then they both stand up. They could both be me, and yet they can't both be me.

You take a breath to say something when a voice sounds from behind you. 'Peter...?' You turn and see a woman in red turning and walking away from you. The woman you saw earlier, the woman who was talking to another, a book in front of her on the table. As you start to follow her, you hear the footsteps of two other women following you.

What on earth, you wonder...

______________________________________

Of course, you have to go with them. Of course, you sense that you are being played with. You realise that they cannot all be Vita, that at least two of them are not her and...

Will they tell you?

You become uneasy when you realise that perhaps your Vita is not part of this trio at all. But then they will surely lead you to her. Or? Perhaps she is leading you astray, or rather engaged a few friends, or hired help, to lead you astray. Perhaps she didn't want to meet you after all and is teaching you a lesson.

You have no choice but to believe that all will be well and follow them.

The bright light outside first announces itself as it pervades the loose folds of the protagonist's light blouse and skirt as she steps out of the café's front door. For a moment you can make out her exact contours, but as you step outside yourself the sun immediately blinds you. You squint.

The guiding light strides on without hesitation. Your group marches for about ten minutes. You are aware of the attention this parade attracts from people in the street. What a strange procession! Holy Mother of God!

You see the woman in front of you marching along and hear the other two click-clacking behind you. The sight of the moving figure in front of you and the steady and purposeful sound of the three pairs of heels around you transfer you to a semi-hypnotic state. The straight shoulders of the leader and the hair waving freely and lightly.... The two legs alternately throwing back the light fabric of the skirt, which also undulates.... The strong steps... Click, clack...

Not once does the first woman look back.

Your group has reached a quieter square in downtown Berlin and the woman in front climbs the six steps to the front door of a stately house, pushes it open and enters. You don't hesitate and follow, and the other two follow you in turn.

None of the three has yet spoken a word. Neither have you.

The marble hallway and the adjoining corridor lie before you in relative darkness. The cool air provides a further contrast to the outside world you have just left. The clacking of the first woman's heels becomes muffled. She has begun to climb a carpeted staircase, lightly, as if weightless. Still following her, you are followed by the other two. The leader arrives on the landing, and again the rhythm of her heels cuts through the silence, this time on wood, soon followed by the sound of the other two pairs....

The destination...

You have all entered a large, sparsely furnished room at the back of the house. The curtains are almost completely drawn and being kept in motion by the light breeze. The ceiling is high and ornate, as are the fireplace and a few large old mirrors.

Now, finally, the first woman turns and faces you. A commanding presence. She remains standing at a distance of about two arm's lengths. Her gaze is clear, confident and unwavering. You stand there and stare back. Are you as confident as she is? Why do you finally turn around and notice that the other two are also standing still and looking at you? They form a circle around you.

Three against one? One for all and all for one? Is Vita the One? Where am I, you wonder.

_______________________________________

So, the looks of the three are confident, perhaps ironic, but certainly not hostile. But... Why doesn't anyone speak, why don't you? Your self-confidence, however, is strong enough to keep looking these women in the eyes, searching...

Yes, they all match the image you have of me, Vita. Each one could be me, indeed. About the right ages, quite well-groomed for their ages, shoulder-length auburn hair, attractive. Green eyes. But that doesn't mean they look alike. There's one whose hair is straight, parted on the left, that of the second is slightly curly, the third has a fringe. The cheekbones of one of them are high. Another has a small nose, the third has slightly wide-set eyes. You can't decide who best fits your image of me, Vita. Which is Vita?

Who is Vita?

You make a choice. Your choice is the woman who prepared the way, the leader. Is it because she was the leader, because she looks like the leader, looks the most confident? Or the most confidently submissive? Or both at the same time? Or because she is the only one who addressed you (

'Peter

...?')? Or is the choice arbitrary and you only do something because you have to do something?

Wordlessly, she responds to the first words either of you have spoken since her one and only '

Peter

...'. Your words. They are:

'After this strange charade, I declare the game is mine now. Do you agree? Never mind if you don't. Turn around, take off your clothes and bend over, please... Please? What am I saying? Go ahead and do it!'

Her gaze turns to the floor before she obeys and turns around. Had you expected an easy victory at this point, and is this such a victory? Your excitement knows no bounds as the woman disrobes, revealing her graceful strength and beauty. You can only see her back, but you know that time is yours and you will get to see everything.

First the red, bell-shaped skirt is removed, then the loose-fitting, buttoned blouse. The vest she wears is ox-red. Her legs are bare. The bra is green and she opens it expertly, without hesitation or fumbling. You notice now that her nails are painted the same green as the bra. Green also are the matching French panties, which, once removed from her ripe bottom and thrown on the floor, turn to nothing.

Oh, and there she goes.... She bends forward and responds to an unspoken part of your command by pulling her buttocks apart with her beautiful hands, with the tempting green nails at their fingers' ends pressing into her flesh.

The front of a woman is the fulfilment, but the back is the promise. It shows the strength of a woman, the delicate neck supported by the shoulders, the strong, flared back tapering at the waist, which is in turn supported by the hips, which are a foundation, yet delicate, adorned by the soft buttocks and finally the strong but slender legs, small universes in their own rights. A journey through a landscape! Also, a journey through time, because each part is revealed in turn.

Then everything stands still.

Her secret passages are on full display and you admire them in silence, because you have your excitement under control. Just about. The wrinkled ring of her anus.... The double oyster of her cunt.... You would have disapproved of the uncut pubic hair you can see around her front entrance - you prefer shaven women - if it hadn't somehow moved you....

A touch of imperfection underlines perfection....

Nothing moves.

The machine of the pulsating cock is slowly starting up, but you don't register this until later, as you remain spell-bound by the sight of the woman in front of you. Likewise, your subconsciousness may have felt it, but as you turn around you are still surprised: the other two women have followed the command you issued to the leader and are also naked, bent over and exposing their openings.

(Before you spring into action, you are alerted to the fact that the other two appear to have been shorn... Is that still your preference?)

______________________________________

So, here you are, surrounded by three willing and exposed women. How do you feel? Do you feel you are now bathing in abundance? Or do you feel depressed by deceit?

The golden question is: 'Is Vita among these three?' How will you ever find out?

Why makes things difficult? Why not simply ask the question? Of any of the three women. Do you fear that the answer might be 'no'? Are you desperate to enjoy the abundance before you dig up the deception? Or do you actually believe in the elusive Vita, whom you have known and craved for so long but were given the opportunity to meet only now? Do you believe that she will make everything alright?

No, you are low down, don't have the belief, nor the patience to believe and wait. The poor man's you decides to dig in. Into whom? You snub the woman you chose first, the leader, and turn to one of the others, who are also actively showing you their orifices. And they are hairless, yes. However, the chief reason for the change is the willingness of this woman and her sister, who were not directly commanded, to take the same actions.

The bare bottom of this second woman is so ripe and tempting, certainly not less so than the other two, the leading woman and the third....

You give air to your swollen cock and....

You grab her hips and briefly pause for the final decision: the choice of the opening.... Which hole? The upper one or the lower? The latter, the anus, has not yet been used on Vita, so she has stated. 'I am an anal virgin,' she said one night. The vagina, the classical entrance, could be wet, of course, and more easily accommodate your might. No, you take the anus, tight and messy as it is, even though pain might be involved, unprepared, unlubricated... You get in position, ready to push forward....

Then, behind you, a rustle, followed by a voice speaking softly, 'Peter...'

You freeze, but your heart is on fire...? Could it be...? Finally, could it be Vita?

You let go of the sweet hips you are holding and turn around.

______________________________________

You are perplexed, but it takes no time at all before your anxiety to stake your claim resurfaces. I see it in your eyes.

Perplexed, the way you look at a bird of paradise. I am dressed in red, yes, but the dress I wear is ornate and elaborate, far beyond the practical. Haute couture. It could be the state robe of a Chinese empress or a French baroque queen. The high, pleated collar, the wing-like shoulder pieces, the sashes and bows, the billowing pleated skirt.... Delicate but overwhelming. The décolleté, on the other hand, is simply obscene. The breasts are displayed, lifted and pushed forward, offered up, like great pink apples of flesh. The nipples stand proud in the centre of the large, dark areolas.

Anxious to stake your claim... It is the obscene naked breasts that stop you and set you free. For a moment, you were inclined to violently destroy this magnificent creation that both conceals and glorifies the wearer - me! - but you do not. Master of your urges or slave to your fears? The former, surely, or... not?

We stand staring at each other for a long moment, tense, like two gunslingers in a duel...

You suddenly relax and whisper: 'Vita, you have challenged our agreement to come and meet, or at least questioned it. Why, oh, why?'

I see some of your strength returning...

'But you did so with style. I have to admit that much. And your appearance exceeds my expectations, even if they were high. You are an elegant bomb of a woman...'

I see your gaze darkening.

'While I admire your playfulness, how can I accept it? Should you not pay for daring to play with me like that?

'During our last chat you talked about the risk we would run if we'd meet... You have now promoted this risk.'

Have I? Whatever doesn't kill, cures...

'Should I demand that you pay by satisfying all your three friends here under my eyes?

'And then assist me being satisfied by the trio, under your conceited, idle and unsatisfied gaze?

'And when I'm done, should I scrape a bum off the street to take you to the closest cheap hotel and watch you get fucked by him?

'Shall I then finally consider you redeemed from your sins? And hence, will I spend the next twenty-four hours with you in the Hotel Adlon, feasting on you and letting you feast on me? And disappear from the world together?

'Or shall I pursue here and now, without mincing words, my base desires which have piled up to unbearable heights in the years leading up to this meeting? Shall I ask your charming assistants, these beautiful three graces, to unveil this woman, here and now?'

______________________________________

Peter and Vita met online. And now in the flesh. They turned out to be who they pretended to be, haven't they? Peter fell in love with Vita online and took on the role of the dominant man there. Well, what does dominant mean? Can't the submissive still be the dominant if the dominant isn't up to it? Vita seems impressive.

Did he respect and glorify her, or did he pursue his baser desires then and there?

How will they get along? Will they live happily ever after?

Or have they risked everything and failed miserably?

We don't know in life, do we?

______________________________________

Vita is naked.