"Are you ready?" Josephine asked from the walk-in-closet of my bedroom.
"Ready," I said, sitting in the room's sole armchair. Josephine emerged from the closet, completely worth the wait. She was wearing a red, silk negligee. It was entirely translucent and trimmed in white fur over her breasts and along the hem. She spun for me to reveal it had a white fur bow on the back across her shoulder blades and then flared out into a v-shape, exposing her back. She had donned a matching pair of red lace panties. Josephine had curled her auburn hair and applied what could only be described as blowjob-red lipstick.
"Merry Christmas, sir," Josephine said as she sauntered over to me, barefoot and ripe for the plucking. She knelt down between my knees and I took a sip of the old fashioned I had poured for myself before she escorted me up to my own bedroom.
"It's Christmas Eve," I corrected.
"Well..." she said as she started unzipping my pants, "I want to unwrap my present anyway!" I laughed at the cheesiness of the line.
"And a happy new year," I said. Josephine started stroking my cock while fixing her gaze on me.
"Speaking of," Josephine said, "What are your plans for New Year's Eve?"
"Are we comparing calendars right now or..." I trailed off and Josephine smiled.
"No I wanted to ask you out," she said, "There's an art gallery opening that's hosting a New Year's Eve party at the same time. One of my favorite artists is there."
"And you want me to come with you?" I asked.
"Yeah it'll be fun!" Josephine said as she squeezed my shaft to got me to full attention.
"You won't be embarrassed to have an old man on your arm?" She bit her teeth playfully and I recoiled at the insinuation she could bite and was about to have me in her mouth.
"No!" she said, "First of all: no. Second of all, having an older lover makes me mysterious and sexy in the art world."
"Fair enough," I said, "Sounds good to me. What do I wear?"
"Mmmmm," she said as she leaned forward to lick the underside of my shaft, "Blazer maybe? Black if you have it. What do you want me to wear?"
Before I could answer, Josephine sank her mouth down on me and began bobbing her head fast on my cock. I moaned in delight and my head rolled back over the top of my armchair.
"Fuuuuuuck," I said. My hands found the top of her curled hair and I could not help but think: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
* * *
Precisely one week later I was in the same walk-in-closet attempting to put on my cufflinks. I was sporting a black blazer, crisp white dress shirt, and grey slacks for the evening. Josephine walked by and saw me struggling. She pulled up in front of me to take the lead in affixing my cufflinks and I got to peer down at her New Year's Eve ensemble.
For the art gallery opening my young concubine had squeezed herself into a black minidress with a swoosh of silver sequins from her left shoulder down to her right hip. The dress had small sleeves that wrapped around the tops of her shoulders for warmth, it was the depth of winter after all, but a few well placed slits in the dress exposed the flesh of her left hip.
As an expert in Josephine's petite frame I was confident she was panty-less for the evening. Her partially exposed hip and the skin tight nature of the fabric, with no panty line, all but guaranteed it.
She had added a pair of black stockings that accented her legs marvelously. Even though they went up to the tops of her thighs and ended in a visible lace pattern, her dress was so short you could see all of her stockings and an inch or more of exposed leg before the hem of her dress finally began. Her feet were tucked into fashionable closed-toe, black pumps with a silver bow on each toe strap.
"You look gorgeous," I said.
"So do you," Josephine replied as she finished inserting my second cuff link. Looking down at her I couldn't help but admire her eyes, her cheekbones, and the beautiful figure she had.
Ten minutes later we were in an Uber to the art gallery event downtown. The way Josephine's legs crossed and rotated toward me, how sexy they looked in her dress, stockings, and heels, I started to get hard in the back of the car but steeled myself to come to my senses so early in the evening.
A quick jaunt down the highway, along with maneuvers through the crowded downtown streets of New Year's Eve, and we were delivered to the "Incaendi Gallery." As Josephine exited the car I was able to glimpse that she was, in fact, going commando underneath her skimpy dress. In the caveman days I would have been within my right to drag her into the alley then and there, but I held it together.
We walked into the gallery. Incaendi occupied two floors of a renovated red brick storefront, it was a large open space with a few walls forming nooks and crannies for patrons. Close to 100 people had to already be inside. Small bartender stations were spread throughout the venue and a DJ kept a stream of electro-house music, and what I call "Jazztronica" playing throughout the space.
Josephine wrapped an arm around mine and guided me through the initial foray of exhibits. At the front of the gallery stood two pegasus-like horse sculptures in bronze. The horse portions were incredibly accurate, the wings were harsh geometric polygons but incredible to look at it. They were offered for sale at $50,000.
"Josey!" A woman called from just beyond a small throng of patrons.
"Professor!" Josephine answered. An eccentric woman bounded out from the crowd and embraced Josephine. She was wearing a purple and black gown of sorts and had bright white hair formed into a tall up-do on her head.
