Belle Epoque

"So, Princess, what do ya know about Vienna?" Sly asked. We were having dinner at a nice local restaurant, on one of our occasional "dates", as I call them. Sly still thinks the idea is silly, but he's getting accustomed to it.

Sly's my agent. He'd never ever been on a real date before he partnered up with me. Big and tough as he is, raised mostly by himself on the city streets, he'd never been exposed to the social niceties. I have to say, though, that he's adapted pretty quickly. Oh sure, he does it just to keep me happy, but that's one of the nice things about our relationship. He really does care about me, and not only because of the fact that surprisingly, despite my reserved upper class Connecticut background, I'm quite good at this sex business, and as a consequence we've done quite well financially. So, he is willing to meet me half-way, at least. I get a kick out of the fact that just as I was so surprised to find out that I was good at sex and liked doing it professionally, so he has been surprised to find out that he's pretty good at social situations. He even (grudgingly) admits enjoying our dates, even without sex (well, most of the time, anyway. I like to keep our relationship professional.)

"Vienna?" I asked wonderingly. "Well, it's a beautiful old city in Europe, if that's the one you mean. Great cafes. Setting for Orson Welles' 'The Third Man'. Big old opera house. Good coffee. Wonderful pastries. What else?"

"Yeah, yeah. Forget the coffee. What about some guy named Strauss?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Strauss waltzes. Viennese balls. The Belle Époque. In his time Vienna was the most beautiful cultural capital of Europe, fancier and more opulent even than Paris. It all ended in World War I."

"Christ. You're a walkin' history book. Okay Professor. What about sex?"

"Sex?? Hmm. Y'know, I had a feeling we were going to get there eventually," I said with a smile. "So, what about sex?"

"Well, did they have sex back then?"

"Oh yeah. Sure they did. Just more elegantly. So?"

"Princess, I just know you're gonna love what I got lined up for you. It's right up your alley. You've always been mooning about that fancy ball date a while back. Well, Babe, you're gonna owe me. I got you another one. You're gonna go to a Viennese ball in 1880. And have sex, too.

"Here's the best part: there's a back story to it."

"Whoa. A back story? Do you mean I get to play a role, too? I love it!"

"I knew you would. Do I know my Princess or what?"

"Yeah. Sometimes all too well. Anyway, what's the story line?"

"You'll be the beautiful young naïve daughter of a successful merchant in Vienna. Your client will be a baron. He's invited you to a ball. There are dark rumors about his appetite for young women, but your old man really wants you to go with the baron 'cause he wants an in to the nobility. Good for business, y'know. You're not sure, but you're a good daughter, so you'll go along and hope for the best."

"Fascinating. Sounds like fun. Oh, you said naïve. Am I supposed to be a virgin? I mean, that'd spice things up a bit, wouldn't it."

"He didn't say. Play it anyway you want."

"Okay, I like it. I'm in. Jesus, though, Sly. Where do you find these guys?"

"I didn't find this one," he said. "He came to me. Seems like we're gettin' a reputation. When a guy wants a gorgeous escort for a big shindig, apparently we pop up on the radar."

Compliment aside, I was a bit taken aback. I didn't really like the idea of publicity. Sly's always found enough interesting clients to keep me happy, but I do have my day job at the law firm, which wouldn't last two seconds if someone there got wind of my evening profession. And, much as I enjoy the sex and the adventures, I realize it can't go on forever. Not really a lifelong career, y'know.

"Sly, I'll make you a deal. I'll do this one, but you need to promise me that the next guy that asks for me by name, you'll tell him you never heard of me, and you don't know what he's talking about."

"Princess, I'll never understand you. You're gonna throw away some good deals."

"You'll do it, though?"

"Okay, if that's what you want. Sure."

I was pleasantly surprised at his easy acquiescence, although I should have known by now that Sly really does value our relationship and respects me as a person even if he thinks I'm wrong. But I knew I could trust him to do as I asked.

Sly arranged for the client to pick me up at a mid-town hotel, where I'd booked a room to change into my costume. Needless to say, I keep my real address secret. I'd done some serious shopping for this one. You can get anything in this city, at least if you're willing to pay for it, and I was. After all, it wasn't my money. The client had staked us ahead of time. Think of it like an expense account. One of the really nice perks of my profession is that money is not an object. Guys are willing to shell out remarkable amounts to live out their fantasies, be it on sportscars or, in my case, women. I'm always happy to indulge them.

For this client's fantasy I wore a red silk Victorian gown that was off-the-shoulders and daringly low-cut, at least by Belle Époque Viennese standards. The bodice was trimmed in red lace, and the neckline started down between my breasts and continued up and out onto my arms to form short little lacy sleeves. The tight bodice pushed my breasts up to form a creamy smooth expanse with a strong hint of cleavage. A little black pearl pendant hung from the lowest point in the dip between my breasts, further emphasizing the fullness on either side of it. The waist was so tiny I had to wear a corset to get into it, but it really emphasized my bosom and my hips. No wonder Victorian men loved that hourglass shape!!

According to the costumer I was supposed to wear a chemise under the corset, but she found one with silk lining instead. The corset was confining, yes, but it did wonders for my figure. I mean, I don't have a lot (any) excess avoirdupois around my waist, but whatever it found there it pushed north. What that did for my bust just has to be illegal in some quarters. Plus, with all its lace trimmings that corset all by itself was sexy as hell.

The full skirt cascaded down from my hips with folds upon folds of carefully draped smooth scarlet silk with insets of red lace. It swept along the floor and imbued my every step with grace. The bodice ended at my tiny waist, flowing into the skirt with a downward pointing front that subtly directed the imagination to what lay beneath.

Speaking of which, I drew the line at authentic drawers. I left on my black nylon panties so that a nice stretch of skin could be seen (and touched) between the lacy tops of my dark stockings and the panties.

My dark hair was piled high in an off-the-neck updo, with a couple of strategic 'stray' curls that framed my face. To accentuate the whiteness of my bosom and shoulders and add grace to my long neck I wore a black lace choker with a couple of obsidian pendants in front. A pair of dangling crystal earrings added a touch of sophistication. I wore a matching red bracelet on my right wrist which sparkled with every gesture.

All in all, my gown embodied the elegance of the Belle Époque while subtly radiating sex. With my nylons, full red lipstick and dark eye shadow, I was a nice blend of modern and Victorian. Strangely, in spite of all the coverage the clothes provided, I felt sexy. Not the short-skirt-high-heels-just-ask-me-nicely kind of sexy. More of an I'm-attainable-but-you're-going-to-have-to-work-for-it kind of sexy. I hoped the client appreciated the work.

I could have stood for hours in front of the mirror. Sadly, the phone rang to tell me my date had arrived and was waiting in the lobby.

Judging from the look he gave me when I swept into the lobby to meet him, he did indeed appreciate my efforts. His eyes got really wide, and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he recovered his poise.

He was an older man, in his late fifties. He looked every inch the Victorian baron, though. Quite elegant, tall and good-looking. He wore a period tuxedo, although frankly, men's fashions haven't changed all that much, certainly compared to ours. He had on a starched white shirt, a white cravat with a diamond stick pin. Under the jacket he wore a blue sash with a medal or two adorning it. He had muttonchop sideburns, but was not, however, sporting a full Victorian moustache, for which I was grateful. Several people in the lobby looked up at us, although this being the city, they soon lost interest.

He greeted me warmly and escorted me out into the street where a limo waited for us. Okay, it wasn't a horse and carriage or a hansom cab, but still it was a lot better than a taxi.

Whatever club or organization the "baron" belonged to, they had plenty of money. They had rented a large ballroom in midtown. It was fully decorated in Belle Époque fashion. A small orchestra was playing Strauss waltzes. There were dozens of couples there already, dancing or reclining on plush couches around the sides of the dance floor. All the men were dressed in tuxes, and the women were a bouquet of colors in satin, with flowing gowns. It took my breath away.

The "baron", his name, at least for tonight, was Otto Von Abensperg, introduced me to several acquaintances as Maria, the daughter of his good friend, my father. Then we danced a few waltzes, which was heavenly. The music was beautiful, and "Otto" was a very good dancer, and held me close as we swayed around the dance floor with twirling other couples. I was really enjoying myself, almost forgetting who I was and why I was there.

Occasionally we'd take a break and sip champagne or have a few oysters and caviar. "Otto" was quite solicitous, ensuring that I had plenty of champagne and oysters. Yeah, I knew what he was doing, but I willingly went along with it. I am, after all, a professional, and hell, it was fun.

After an hour or so, Otto guided me to a small anteroom off the main floor. Once inside, he closed the door. I saw him set the latch. Obviously, we were about to get down to business. I had no objections. With the romantic setting, the oysters and the champagne, I was feeling pretty amorous myself. I kept reminding myself, though, that I was naïve and inexperienced, and supposedly had no idea what Otto had in mind. Not too easy, but I'm a good actress, and part of that is inhabiting my roles.

The room was sumptuous. Scads and scads of red velvet and gleaming brass. A beautiful chandelier and several brass wall sconces cast a warm light on the plush overstuffed furniture.

Otto sat himself on one of the couches. I was standing in front of him.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked.

"Why because you asked my father," I answered, keeping to the story.

"Yes, that's true. But why do you suppose I asked him for you?"

"I, I don't know, baron."

"Look at your body," he said. "Look at your sweet young breasts, your plush hips, your long legs. Look at your warm mouth and its soft, full red lips. My dear, your body was made for only one purpose: to give men pleasure."

"Oh baron," I said, with as much surprise I could muster. "You shouldn't talk that way to me."

"And why not? It is true. And yet, my sweet, I don't think that you have fulfilled that marvelous purpose. What a shame. What a waste. But now, tonight, I shall pluck the ripe fruit and you shall know the ecstasy of fulfillment."

He said this with a knowing smile as his eyes swept over my body, lingering on my breasts.

"Oh baron," I pleaded. "You can't. I won't. Please don't"

But even as I protested, he rose and came close. He bent down and kissed the soft expanse of my breasts above the neckline of the gown. His hands reached behind my back and fumbled at the closures of the gown. He kissed me on the mouth, gently at first, and then more passionately. His tongue probed into me. I suppose he hoped to distract me from the widening opening at the back of my gown. I admit, it would have worked on the character I was playing. Me, I just enjoyed it. I didn't really want to protest, but I had to remain in character. I'm a professional.

So I stiffened for a moment and tried to pull away, but Otto held on, pulling me close and kissing me deeply even while he pulled apart the back of my gown. After an appropriate pause I sighed and melted into him as if unable to resist him any longer.

He stepped away from me and pulled the bodice of my gown away from my front and let it fall over the skirt. He gazed at my revealed breasts, which were pushed up and almost out of the corset.

"You see, my dear," he said, a bit breathlessly. "Already you feel the beginnings of pleasure. Soon, very soon, you will experience far more. Now, I command you: take off your skirt! I wish to see your legs."

Eyes downcast demurely, I silently obeyed him. I dropped my skirt and stood amidst the piled yards of silk, clothed only in the corset, panties, lace-topped stockings, and heels. My arms hung at my sides in mute submission. I kept my eyes downcast as if afraid to look at the baron.

"Oh my sweet young thing," he said, in awed tones. "Your body is as voluptuous as I had imagined. You are truly meant for men's pleasures. Now we shall begin. Kneel before me."

I hesitated a second and then knelt as instructed. I looked up at him. He smiled at me and held my eyes while he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall. When I attempted to look down, he firmly grasped my chin and held my head up.

"No, my darling," he said. "You shall see the instrument of your pleasure when I am ready, not before. Suspense is a good sweetener, I find."

We waited several seconds. I could sense him dropping his shorts, and then I could see his arm moving as he stroked his cock into hardness.

"Look now, Maria. Look and ready yourself."

I looked.

"Oh! Oh!" I exclaimed. "It is so big!"

He smiled. Guys love it when we're impressed with their size. I know my job.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

"I can't! It is wrong!" I pleaded. "You are too big!"

"Nonsense! Your mouth, your soft lips were made to encompass and envelope a man's organ. Open, my sweet, and taste the pleasures of fellatio."

His hips swayed forward. His cock, its tip glistening, approached me. It pressed against my lips. I put up what I figured was the necessary degree of resistance and then relaxed my lips and let him slide into my mouth. It really did feel good. His cock was nice and warm and pulsing with desire. I anticipated a very nice load when he came.

He put his hands on my head, his fingers entwined in my hair. He was gentle but firm, letting me know in no uncertain terms that he was in control of my actions. He began to slide in and out of me, never quite leaving my mouth.

"Very good, my sweet," he said. "Now increase your pleasure. Suck me."

Actually, he did feel pretty good in my mouth. A nice sized cock, with firm, smooth skin, warmly pulsing with life and promise. I allowed him to know it.

"Ah yes, you like it, don't you, child," he said between breaths. "I knew you would awaken to your natural desires, given the right tutor. Now, suck harder and use your tongue. Soon, very soon my dear, you will learn the pleasures of taking a man in you."

His strokes became shorter and faster. I did as I was told and swirled my tongue on the underside of his cock when he went deep, and then up and over its head as he withdrew. I sucked harder. I felt his cock swell and stiffen as I drew more blood into it. It pulsated and delivered a small pearl of cum on my tongue. He moaned, then, and held my head still as his orgasm overtook him.

His seed jetted into my mouth with surprising force. His ejaculations were rapid, and my mouth soon filled with the heat and taste of him. He moaned and sighed as he came into me. I sucked hard, drawing even more from him, rolling my tongue around his throbbing cock, lubricated by the warm slippery fluid he was pumping into me.

He soon ran down and stopped, with his spent cock resting on my tongue. I held his shaft with my lips. He took several deep breaths, and then slowly slid his member out of my mouth. He reached down and cupped my chin, lifting my face toward him. He smiled to see my lips and chin glistening with escaped semen.

"My God," he said. "That was amazing. You are terrific! And you kept to the story, too. Thank you for that. It really helped my enjoyment."

So, clearly we were back in the real world. Too bad, 'cause I had worked up a really good dialog in character, one about the triumph of ecstasy over remorse. Oh well, maybe I could use it another time.

I rose to my feet and borrowed his lapel handkerchief to wipe the semen off my face. "You're welcome. Glad to have helped. I should tell you that I rather enjoyed the whole thing myself, including playing a part."

I turned and reached for my discarded gown.

"You know," he said quietly behind me, "that corset is incredibly sexy."

"So I gather," I said. "Unfortunately it's also pretty uncomfortable."

There was a pause.

"Why don't you take it off, then?"

I turned to see him. I'd heard that tone of voice before. Sure enough, his cock was stiffening even as I looked. He had a goofy smile on his face. Here we go again. Hey, it's my job to satisfy our clients, and I take pride in doing it well. Besides, I was certainly intimately familiar with his cock and liked what I had found. I wouldn't mind another encounter with it.

"Okay, but I could use some help." I smiled prettily. "I'm all thumbs." I showed him the buttons in front. He needed no encouragement. He started at the top button, but only got through the first few before he had to stop and kiss my soft breasts where they were beginning to burgeon forth in anticipation of their freedom from restraint. I entwined my fingers in his hair and encouraged his exploration. His breath was warm on my exposed flesh.

"Um, hadn't you better finish the job?" I asked in all innocence.

Wordlessly, after one last kiss, he complied. It felt very good when at last the corset fell open. I shrugged it off and stood before him clad now only in panties, stockings, and heels.

He stepped back and took in the view. He gave a low whistle. I smiled and stepped back and sat on the divan.

His cock was nice and stiff, now. No foreplay needed. I stretched out luxuriously on the divan, arms up and legs deployed decorously. In a second he was on me. My panties disappeared in one smooth movement. I spread my legs enough to welcome him. I felt the warm blunt end of his member pressing my vaginal lips apart. They offered only the slightest resistance before parting and embracing his shaft as he slid easily into me. I hadn't realized I was so wet. I thrilled to the sensation as his thick cock filled my tight vagina, stretching its walls in the most pleasant way. I spread my legs wider to give him full access. On he came until our pelvises met and I could feel his cock against my cervix, ready to spurt his seed directly into my womb. We both sighed as he bottomed out in me.

I felt his warm breath on my right ear. "Oh my God", he breathed. "You feel so wonderful! I could stay in you forever."

Like we both didn't know that wasn't going to happen.

"Easy, Lover," I whispered. "No rush, now. Take your time."

He began to pump me, then. Slowly at first, which I appreciated, as it felt really good. I could feel myself wetting and my inner labia tightening around his shaft. Gradually his pace picked up and my hips automatically began to undulate. I felt his hands groping my breasts. His palms rubbed my highly sensitive nipples.

Abruptly he groaned, and I felt the full weight of his pelvis come down on me, driving him deep into me. To my intense pleasure, I felt his cock swell and throb followed by the wonderful feel of his hot sperm shooting into me. I threw my head back and came, squirting. His cock pulsed in me and his warm ejaculate filled me, even penetrating into my womb. The world went away.