A Glass Of Absinthe

I want to thank MrWhiteTiger for his marvelous edits.M, thank you so much for 'liking' this. I don't know how I could continue to post without your help, friendship and everything else.

For those interested, I've never tried absinthe, nor actually seen the ritual, but I've read a lot up on it. I may be wrong about the aphrodisiac properties, but come now, it makes it fun.

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The party was so dull, and being full of the banker and lawyer types, it didn't take Jane long to be bored and wonder why she'd decided to come along with Todd. It had barely been forty-five minutes since Jane had arrived and she was already nursing her second glass of red wine. It wasn't like her to drink much. Alcohol tended to give her a buzz after only a few sips, but she was full-on bored out of her mind. She talked with a couple of the other women who were part of the bunch; they were lawyers themselves, but she had nothing in common with them as Jane was a shopkeeper. Owning a vintage clothing store was nothing like the law.

Todd had tried to include her in his political discussions with one of the bankers he knew well, but Jane wasn't as focused as Todd on the political realm other than knowing the basics, so she was left having to simply nod her head and act like she knew what was going on.

After a while, Jane needed to get some air. The room felt stuffy and she felt boxed in. Panicky. She left the party area in search of a powder room or somewhere quiet she could calm her nerves and try to refresh her brain. Maybe she could get Todd to take her home in a while. She wasn't sure she could stand much more of this.

She wandered down a softly lit hallway, appreciating the subtle beauty of the sconces and tasteful artwork hung in a pleasing manner. The house where the party was being held in was a Victorian home that had been renovated. It was still incredibly elegant, but now held a soft and cozy feel to everything. The colors were pleasing and calming and for a brief moment she lusted after the house. It would be perfect to live here, especially since she was interested in anything vintage.

Jane found a door slightly ajar and glanced in to see a small study or library with a couple of low table lamps lighting the room in a muted way. She slipped in, closed the door with a click, and sighed against the cool wood.

"Bored as well?" The gravely, purring question came from an armchair tucked into an alcove of the room.

Jane whirled around, clutching her throat in surprise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here. I'm sorry for intruding."

The man chuckled. "Don't be. I was about ready to go insane out there myself. One can only take so much of law, money and politics."

"I'm neither a lawyer nor banker, so most of that stuff goes right over my head. I'm Jane Marcel, by the way. And you are?"

The man chuckled again. "Roger Grant. This is my home."

"Oh! I"m sorry for not introducing myself earlier."

Roger waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "I left the party early. I'm hosting it for a friend who needed an old home for atmosphere. I probably wasn't out there when you arrived. Who did you come with?"

"Todd Everson. He said he wanted company. Pleaded with me actually, and I had to oblige when he looked at me like a little boy. I don't know why I give into him as much as I do," Jane mused.

"One usually indulges one's boyfriend," Roger commented dryly. "You're welcome to come in and sit down by the way. I don't bite. Much." He murmured the last word and he saw that Jane hadn't heard him.

"Oh, Todd isn't my boyfriend." Jane walked to the leather sofa and sat down primly.

"Fiancé? Partner? Husband?" Roger threw out the options quickly. He was slightly annoyed that this captivating woman might be any of those things to Toad Everson, as he thought of Todd. A man he judged to have a very weak spine.

Jane laughed lightly, a sound like tinkling bells. "None of the above. He's just a good friend whom I give into way too easily."

Roger breathed a bit more easily and noticed Jane's eyes observing his sturdy desk. "Would you care for a glass of absinthe?" He indicated the etched glass decanter on the desk and the little glasses with a bulbs on their bottoms. The decanter was filled with a vibrant green liquid.

"I've never had it before." Jane wrinkled her nose and grinned. "But yes, I would love to try a glass."

Roger rose gracefully like a large cat and stalked towards the desk. Snagging up the ornate bottle, he poured the bright, green liquor into one of the small glasses, stopping when the absinthe reached the top of the bulb. He placed a fancy, slotted, silver spoon over the glass, then a sugar cube, finally reaching for a small pitcher of ice water.

"May I do it?" I've always wanted to see the louche," Jane interrupted as he was about to pour the water on the sugar cube.

He handed her the pitcher, a brow arched in interest.

"Interesting that you would know the terminology, yet you've never drunk it before."

"Interesting drink for a banker," she replied.

"I'm not a banker."

"No? Lawyer then."

"God no." Roger laughed. "I'm a writer. I was researching the drink for a book and I acquired a taste for it." He watched her drip the water slowly over the sugar cube. "Now how is it that you know what to do?" The green absinthe was taking on a pearlescent hue as drop by drop, the icy water melted the sugar cube and dripped down into the glass.

"Google; Bing. And I read a lot. I read a book once where they described how to pour absinthe, but they had it all wrong. I found out once I looked it up online," was Jane's absentminded reply. Watching the louche was fascinating, in a mesmerizing way. That and Roger's voice. His voice was smooth like a really good whiskey. Warming on the surface, but with a hint of gravel that lingered.

"I see." He had a chance to study her as she handled the ice water. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a loose chignon that was coming undone. Tendrils and curls brushed along her regal neck. Her skin was as fascinating to him as the louche was to her. Like the almost finished absinthe, her skin was pearlescent as well. It was pale and creamy, with just a hint of translucence. He imagined her breasts would show faint blue veins. Soft and delicate.

Her movements were sure and confident as she set the pitcher down and removed the silver spoon. She took up another little silver spoon and stirred the glass, mixing in the remaining sugar crystals. The glass was now filled with a pale green, opalescent liquid. Jane rased the glass to her lips as her eyes rose to his. He saw they were as green as the dress she wore.

She took a sip and he arched his brow again, though this time in question. She frowned for a moment as she thought about it.

"It's nice. Different from what I thought."

"How so?" Roger motioned for her to have a seat back on the leather sofa.

She sat daintily, crossing her ankles like all the ladies did at his mother's teas.

"I think I expected it to be bitter. I don't know. You think wormwood, and you think bitter. Or at least I do."

"You do know this is not like the original types? They don't produce it with the same components these days." He settled back into the soft cushions of the sofa, crossing his leg. He reached for a remote, and with a couple button pushes, soft 1930's jazz music flowed out of speakers hidden among the room.''

"Yes, but still, one has perceptions." Jane took another sip and sighed. "It's actually quite nice. I'm not sure I would want it all the time. I mean, licorice flavor is somewhat overpowering at times.

"True, though there are other flavors."

"Oh, of course. But it's not like other alcohols. Though I suppose each of those can be too much at times, I guess. I don't drink very much. One glass of wine is usually my limit. And as for other spirits, well, I've never experimented much." She took another sip of the absinthe.

He watched her, intrigued about the fact that she knew as much as she did about absinthe, yet claimed to not drink much. There were dainty motions and movements from her, yet with her red hair and body like a siren, he knew she was not always so dignified. It tempted him to dig deeper and see if she could be as wicked as his mind was making him think.

"You know that some say absinthe is an aphrodisiac?" He mused slyly.

Jane glanced at him, her eyes wide with interest.

"Really? How so?"

For a moment, her open interest surprised him. "Some say it's the thujone and other properties. Not that this has thujone in it. Illegal as it is. Other's say it's the ritual. The slow drip, drip, drip of the water on the cube as it flows down into the green of the absinthe. The melting of the sugar. The hidden qualities of the spirit." His voice was low and hypnotic. His words slid out slowly, honey smooth. Teasing.

She watched his mouth in fascination, the alcohol dulling her senses. She licked her lips unconsciously.

A devilish grin twisted his mouth slightly as his eyes darkened in delight. He watched her soft, pink tongue slide sensually along her bottom lip and he almost reached out to grab her.

"Do you know, you are as tempting as the drink?" He posed the question in an offhand manner, taking a sip of his own glass.

Jane stared at him in surprise.

"Don't look so surprised. You are quite lovely, and you have this innocence about you that invites a man to reach out and pluck." Roger was surprised at his own audacity. He was rarely that bold with a woman. However, she didn't seem bothered or repulsed by his comment. In fact, Jane was quite flattered. She settled back into the sofa, relaxing just a bit more and sipped her drink.

"Well, aren't you just full of flattery," she commented. She held up her hand when he started to speak. "I don't mind. I don't have a lot of compliments paid towards me usually."

Roger frowned. "Good god, why not?"

Jane laughed. "I work in a vintage clothing shop. Actually, I own the shop. The guys that do come in tend to be a bit nerdy or gay. And most of the time, it's women who frequent my store. When I do have a moment for myself, I'm at home, or an occasional coffee shop. So I don't get out much."

"Maybe you need to get out a bit more," he murmured into his glass.

"Beg pardon?"

"I said, maybe you need to get out a bit more. Though, on second thought, don't. I'd rather keep you hidden away."

Jane stared and then burst out a harsh laugh. "Oh my. You are bold. And what happens if I don't want to be kept?"

"Oh, that's where I'd pull out the handcuffs and leash." He said it so matter-of-fact that Jane looked at him wide-eyed.

"You're not serious, are you?" The question was a statement, sort of.

"Aren't I?"

Jane stood quickly and walked to the desk, tossed back the rest of her drink and sat the glass down. She braced herself against the desk and watched him through her lashes. The absinthe had swirled her senses. She felt relaxed and as he teased and insinuated with his words, she felt herself drawn to him.

"I think you're teasing me," she said confidently.

He watched her carefully, and he could tell the alcohol had affected her. Not so much that she was drunk, but her senses were dulled. He rose slowly from the sofa, stalking towards her. He was like a panther, soft but very powerful. When he stood before her, she raised her eyes to his and looked into the brown depths. Her breath hitched when his hands slid along her stomach to encircle her waist. Her eyes lowered as she watched his hands knead and stroke. She was caught by surprise when he gripped her waist lifting and sitting her down firmly on the edge of the desk. His thighs spread her legs as he stepped closer. Her breath whooshed out as he tipped her head back, his thumbs brushing her jaw.

"Am I?"

When his mouth brushed hers then pulled back, teasing, she tried to reach up, but he had captured her hands, holding them down to the edge of the desk. He brushed again, not taking her mouth like she wanted; needed. She whimpered softly in frustration and he chuckled.

"I won't be rushed. You're too fine a vintage to gulp down. You must be savored," he whispered, then ran his mouth along her jaw. Dragging his lips along the velvety softness. Inhaling her faint perfume. He decided it must be an oriental perfume. He caught hints of ginger and musk.

"Please," Jane begged. Her fingers struggled against his hands. She tried turning her head towards his mouth, but he pulled back again. She almost let out a scream of frustration.

"Keep your hands on the desk," he ordered. His tone left no room for argument.

She stopped struggling, her breath shallow in anticipation. She shivered when his hands slid up her arms in a caressing move. But when he moved them to her hips, her heart raced, especially when with a slight tug, he pulled her closer to him. Her dress stopped his movement, and with his thumbs sliding and pushing, he worked the fabric higher, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings, her garters and that luscious stretch of skin from mid thigh to her hips. He stroked for a moment, eliciting shivers as his fingers brushed feather soft. He lifted her slightly, pushing the rest of the fabric up until he could see her silky underwear. A quick tug and he had her flush to him. Her breath left her and she let out a whimper of delight as she felt every ridge, every bit of the heat of his arousal through his thin slacks. His hands slid down her thighs, holding her tightly against his body.

Before she could register all the sensations, his mouth was on hers, fully and deeply. She whimpered as he devoured her lips, biting and licking. Diving in deeply, swirling in his tongue. Mastering her. She responded with as much ability as she could, but he was delving into waters deeper than she knew. It wasn't that she was a complete novice, but he was an expert. Just His mouth alone was enough to make her wet. Add the sensations of his hips rocking against her hot core and in moments she would be a goner.

Roger pulled back as he felt her body tense against his. "Easy," he whispered, brushing feather-light kisses across her cheeks. His mouth moved down to her neck where he bit and sucked as his hands reached back to the zipper on her dress. He slid it down with its biting raspy, zipper sound. He pushed the dress off her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her left shoulder before stepping back to look at her.

She arched her back slightly, showing off just a little.

"You know, your skin is as pearly as the louche," he mused his earlier thought as he stroked upward, cupping her breasts encased in the green lace. His thumbs brushed the delicate apricot nipples that were velvety and taut.

"Mmm," was all she could murmur.

He flicked his thumbs and she arched further into his hands. Jane's head dropped back and her fingers gripped the edge of the desk till her knuckles were white. His hands were warm and big enough to cup her fully. When he kneaded her, she let out a breathy moan.

"Beautiful." Roger traced his finger along the edges of the lace, fingering her velvety skin. Yes, she was as pale as he thought she might be. He saw the faint veining he had imagined. It was as if every fantasy he'd had of her in the short time of meeting her, had come true.

His mouth moved back to hers, parting her lips gently as he reached behind her once more to unclasp her bra. He slid the straps off her shoulders, still kissing her still. He dropped the lace to the ground, and pulled her arms up around his neck. She held him willingly, wrapping her arms tightly. She kissed him with so much passion and desire that he almost forgot about seducing her. It was more like she was seducing him.

Jane speared her fingers into his tobacco-brown hair, her fingers tangling in the silky cool waves. Her naked torso pressed against Roger's crisp, white shirt, the buttons biting into her skin. She felt like she couldn't get close enough to his body. She twisted against him, brushing her nipples against the fabric.

Roger laughed against her mouth. He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach for the buttons on his shirt. He worked them quickly loose, and before he could slide it off his shoulders, her hands had found the open front and she slid her hands along his warm skin. She pushed the fabric from his body, lingering on his arms before giving a little shove to the shirt still clinging to his wrists. The only sound was the swish of the cotton hitting the floor.

Jane's hands went back to his chest as she stroked and rubbed her fingers though the fine brown hair. She slid her hands up to his collarbone, before sliding back down his chest.

Roger let her explore, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He was content to let her touch him, and her small hands felt increasingly good as she ventured down to his sides. She held his waist then slid back up to brush his nipples with her thumbs.

He hummed his pleasure and she pressed a kiss to the middle of his chest. Roger's hand reached up to slide into her hair and he gripped, tilting her head back. He kissed her again, plundering her mouth. He controlled her movements, holding her hair in a firm grasp. He delighted in her gasp as he pulled her head back further and ran his tongue from the hollow of her throat to her chin. God she tasted divine. Sweet and a little bit spicy. Well, she was a redhead after all.

Roger pulled her off the desk, and in a quick move, pushed her dress off her hips to puddle on the floor. His fingers stroked her lacy, silky green thong, his fingers and brushed her cleft. His teeth nibbled her neck as she clutched frantically at his shoulders, and he felt her lose her balance.

"Whoops. Almost lost you there," he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist. His free hand pushed into her panties, working them off until they slid down as well, to tangle with her dress.

Jane squeaked in surprise as Roger lifted her and sat her back down on the desk, the cold wood a shock to her skin. She soon forgot the cold as he stepped away from her and quickly undressed, kicking off his wingtips. She licked her lips in pleasure when he stood in his dark blue boxer briefs. They molded to his body and enhanced his trim hips. Not only was Roger a devastatingly gorgeous man in face, his body was designed for female appreciation. And appreciate she did.

The hair on his chest spread out over his torso, only to narrow in a line to where the waistband of his briefs sat low on his hips. He had a body like that like a runner. Lean, but not a wide chest. He didn't fit the classic hero shape of broad shoulders and narrow hips. Jane had always thought that was overrated. Roger's body was much more pleasing, and one of the pluses of his shape; her legs could wrap around him nicely, without a lot of work. A few past boyfriends who had been a touch heavy, had made it hard to enjoy that aspect of straddling a guy. She knew that it would be a pleasure to sit astride Roger.

"Do I pass inspection, m'lady?" Roger teased and sank his thumbs into the waistband.

Jane's breath caught, thinking he was going to push off the briefs, but he paused, waiting for her reply.

She laughed breathlessly. "Vain man. You do. With flying colors. Take off your underwear, please."

It was his turn to laugh, but in one quick move, he shoved them off, kicking them off his feet. He stood before her, fully erect. Proudly erect as he rested his hands on his hips. The arrow of dark hair ran down to the base of his cock, where the hair was trimmed so neatly.

Jane licked her lips unconsciously and glanced up into Roger's laughing eyes as a chuckle rolled through him. He stepped close to her, only it was his turn to let out a hiss as her soft hand found him and gripped gently, stroking slightly.