She's on her way to you, actually. You recognize the look, even if she's a rather sleek and chic example of the style. She's human, no obvious mods, but clearly has an internal access point, and her personal-area network (PAN) is throwing out an AR datapoint with her name (Cecilia Johnson) and a corporate ID (Motown Corp, LLC).
"Jubilex? I'm Mr. Johnson. Word was, you used to be pretty wiz. Think you can be again?"
As she pours another small bit of icy vodka into her glass, Jessi looks at you, then at Mr. Johnson. "Sure, J. Do what you need to. Just don't be gone too long or I'll take the last piece of your lamb."
You step aside with Mr. Johnson. "We have a job, think you're well-suited."
I give Jessi a look when she threatens my lamb. She's lucky she's got that crooked smile. "Be right back."
I head off with Mr. Johnson, leaning in to keep her close, keep things quiet. "I'm interested. Motown's a solid media company." I give her a polite smile, but that's all the chatter I have in me. "Do you want to come by Marcus Wellby's place and walk my team through your problem? Or is this a datastick drop and go?"
"This is actually unplanned, running into you. Mr. Haroutunian and I were discussing the matter this afternoon. I can drop by tomorrow. I see you're out on the town, so let's say two in the afternoon?" She never quite smiles, but never quite doesn't.
There's a part of me that would like to make her quite smile. This is a lovely woman. But this is business. "Come by the second Chance Bar at Delray. Marcus Wellby will see you at two, Mr. Johnson."
If she's got nothing else, I'm going to go save my lamb.
"I'll see you then, Jubilex." And she turns back to the bar, where a half-bottle of that same Russian vodka waits, along with a plate of dumplings. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Jessi has kindly refrained from taking your lamb, and the two of you finish at a leisurely pace. You don't nearly finish the bottle, but the server provides a carry-bag so you can take it with you, if you like. Jessi's chit-chat and gossip eventually slow down, but it's nothing uncomfortable. Just a digestive lull.
This is a decent neighborhood, Jubilex, and it's early yet for the Leprachaun. Anything you'd like to do before going to your next destination?
As we walking out of Genghis, close, but not holding hands, I turn to my date, "It's still early, Jess. Want to catch a flick at the plex? Walk down to the club district and dance a little? We could hit that cigar bar."
"I know you just want to see me with something round and fat between my lips, but the cigar bar would be aces." You walk along the warm evening streets, Jessi occasionally taking your arm or pointing out some hopeless fashion faux-pas.
The place you're looking for, Leaf it to Me, is next door to that strangest of contradictions, an upscale coffin hotel. When you walk in, the ventilation is so sophisticated that you can smell only the barest hint of the cocktail of combustion products that must be in the air. There's a walk-in humidor with AR datapoints for all the hundreds of cigars and other smokables, a selection of two, three and four person groupings of chairs, and a long bar made from wood reclaimed from a centuries-old logging barge wreck at the bottom of Lake Michigan.
Service here is different, more "wait and see." Do you head straight into the humidor, or speak to the staff first?
"If that was all I wanted, I wouldn't have taken you out, right?" I quip back. I dig her sense of humor. She's a real clothes maestro, so I listen when she slams some of the fashion. I take notes. Literally, recording them for my pocket secretary later.
This place has class. Oozes it. Jessi, with her style and sense of humor, fits right in. I head over to a member of the staff, it's always good to ingratiate yourself to them. Plus, they're usually much smarter about the place than you are, you can get tips and even something on the side from time to time.
A female dwarf in a well-tailored black suit is unobtrusively located at a high table near the humidor. Her AR tag says her name is Friga, and that she is a "Smoke Steward." "Can I help you, sir, madam?"
"Hoi Friga. I'm Jube, this is my date Jess. We're fresh off some spicy Mongolian and headed to Leprechaun's in an hour or so. What would you recommend for the lady tonight?" I'm being polite, and yes, I'm spoiling Jessi tonight. She'll end up with something in her mouth, after all. heh heh.
Friga ponders, looking at Jessi and then you. "Date night? Perhaps a Romeo y Julieta for each of you, then. Straight from Cuba, of course. Perhaps a nice Maduro for the gentleman, something rich and full-bodied, and maybe a sweet and spicy Reserva for the lady? Is this your first time here?"
I don't know if Jessi's been here, but I answer, "This is my first time, but I've heard good things. Jess?" I'm good to take the Maduro, it sounds tasty.
Jessi smiles at Friga. "My first time, as well. The Reserva sounds wiz, thanks!"
Friga invites you into the rich-smelling, moist interior of the humidor, leads you down the row upon row of drawers. Some are marked with individual members' names and have maglocks. Others are marked with brands and makers, and have AR floats that respond with information when you give them attention. Images of palm trees and rich tropical vegetation, men and women carefully and expertly rolling cigars, tobacco leaves drying in the sun. If you had the full setup, you could probably feel the breeze.
The dwarf opens two adjacent drawers and pulls out two cigars. Yours is thick and the wrapper is dark. It smells rich, as expected. Jessi sniffs hers and smiles. "A little peppery. Nice."
Friga says, "Since this is your first time, I hope you'll let me comp you some cognac or bourbon to accompany your smoke. Do you have a preference?" She turns to lead you back out, to a pair of richly-padded leather chairs with a small table between them.
Looking at all the individual folders is really impressive. Names that look Elvish, a few corp names, too. This humidor probably costs more than the whole Marcus Wellby setup. Simple amazing.
"Cognac would be excellent," I answer, impressed by her generosity. The good life. I could see return trips. Maybe the team could come here after the Motown job?
I walk with Jessi to take a seat on the cushy chair, sniff my cigar slow and deep, inhale the moment.
Friga clips both your cigars and lights them with an old-fashioned looking but technologically modern Zippo lighter. "Have a lovely evening. Please ping me if you need anything."
Jessi
Jessi leans back in her chair, splays her legs out in a distinctly "butch" fashion. She deepens her voice and takes on an imitation of her father. "Jubilex, this cigar is distinctly delicious." She takes a big drag and puffs it out, clearly trying to make a smoke ring and failing, then coughs.
I shake my head and laugh a soft laugh at her antics. "I'm so very glad you aren't a guy, Jessi. For several reasons." I take a puff of my stogie, it's very smooth. "Now, be careful on inhaling. It can go to your head quickly. And make you sick as a dog."
Jessi moves back to a more normal stance. "Yeah, yeah." Waving the cigar around, she continues, "This really is tasty though. And for sure smells better than that donkey manure daddy smokes." She takes a sip of her cognac and nods approvingly.
"Pretty sure your dad's cigars are as expensive as these, probably moreso. I bet they taste better than they smell." I don't know why I'm defending her father, I just do. Should I be a loyal boyfriend? I'm not really a boyfriend, though. Not right now. I sip the cognac, smoke on my cigar, ease back in the chair.
Jessi gives you a raised eyebrow, like she's going to push back when you contradict her about the Don's cigars, but then relaxes and takes a big puff. "So, are you spending the night tonight?"
I tap out some ash in the tray in between us. It's made of some polyfiber that sparkles when the ash lands, light webs of color that fade. It's a weird bit of tech in a place that, other than AR, is pretty classic. "If you'll have me, I'd like that, Jess." I look over at her, mostly at that dimple of hers, and her mouth. Such a beautiful mouth. Like the rest of her, but something even more entrancing.
Jessi smiles, content with that answer. You smoke in silence for quite a while, watching the streamers of smoke drift up to the vent fans and listening to quiet jazz through subtly placed speakers. The fire of the cognac and the smoke of the cigar combine in your mouth with a sort of alchemy, and the chance to just lazily be somewhere, with someone you care about, seems to slow down time.
When your cigars are about halfway smoked, Jessi suddenly remembers something. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Got a really big booking for the club today. Harvey LeFair, the simsense star. He's 'going back to his roots' and touring a live show."
What do you know about Harvey LeFair that Jessi probably doesn't, Jubilex?
I look over at her. "That's a great catch. He's really popular." I offer my glass for a small toast.
Harvey LeFair went dark last year because his brain was hacked and wiped. He's reconstructing himself from back-ups, evidently. When he says "back to his roots", he isn't lying.
You both finish your cigars and your cognac, having passed a pleasant and quiet hour or so, and after paying for the cigars and leaving (I assume) a generous tip for Friga, you make your way a few blocks to the Laughing Leprechaun, a funky little music joint with a mixed clientele and a great reputation for actual live music, played by actual live people. The best-kept-secret is what happens on Monday nights (which tonight happens to be). It's a come-one, come-all jam session with musicians from all over the PRD and many who just happen to be travelling through, all (amazingly) acoustic, not even amplified. You're early enough to get a table, and not so early that you have to wait long for folks to start showing up, nodding to each other, pulling chairs onto the stage, and making music.
Jubilex, Jessi's certainly been here before, and I'm pretty certain you have. Who did you come with, the first time?
Yes, generous tip for Friga, she earned it. I will be returning to this place.
First time I was here was with Method, a hacker extraordinaire. We worked together for a while, back when I was a suit. We frakked like bunnies on weekends. It was crazy, hot and heavy for months. Then I washed out and she stayed corp. I became untouchable, I guess. She stopped calling. No hard feelings.
I find myself hovering near Jessi as we sit at the table. We order a few drinks and a hookah. This is going to be a great night.
Jessi scoots her chair close to yours and traces a finger along the back of your hand. As she takes a hit on the hookah, a guitarist opens his case, pulls out a pick, and sits down, just doodling and tuning at first, then launching into a lively Old World jig tune of some sort, which brings smiles and nods from those around you.
Another musician comes up, then another. Finally, about a dozen folks are crowded onto the stage. Not all of them play every tune, but the night becomes a lively back-and-forth, with suggestions called from the audience.
Around 11 o'clock, a lovely, young-looking elf walks in with a ukulele case. The face is familiar, of course, but you've never seen her in person. This is Queen Lili. A refreshing thing about jam night at the Leprechaun is that no one stops playing, despite her fame. Lili just scoots a chair onto the low stage, unpacks her uke, and joins in.
Wow. Queen Lili is so much more than I imagined. Most elves seem unreal, but Lili is amazingly relatable. And hot, did I mention hot? I've got a date, thanks, but that's a girl I wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers, that's for sure.
I slide my hand down to Jessi's and squeeze hers, sharing in her excitement. Order a fresh round of drinks and wait for the magic.
Like everybody who is anybody, there are rumors about Queen Lili. That she uses a glamour to actually look less elf-y than she is. That she's a powerful mage in her own right. What you know as mostly fact is this: she's nearly sixty, one of the first wave of elves to be born after UGE manifested. She's been a star for nearly forty of those years, and is still loved and respected by fans. And, she's been targeted by Humanis Policlub at least once a year for those forty years.
Egalitarian or not, eventually the musicians on stage reach a consensus that it's time for Queen Lili to have a little spotlight. She starts plucking on the strings of her ukulele and sings her rendition of an old, old (like TwenCen old) song. What song is it, Jubilex?
For a moment after Queen Lili finishes, you are surrounded by the rare luxury of a group of people being silent together, then instead of applause there's a collective sigh. A beat or two, and then someone with a flute starts playing a jaunty tune and stamping her foot, and the music's off again, wild. There isn't much room to dance here, but one dwarf climbs on top of her table and provides a quick, virtuoso percussion accompaniment with the heels and toes of her shoes.
Jessi
Jessi, eyes still moist, leans over and gives you a kiss on the cheek.
You stay and listen for another hour. Queen Lili mostly seems content to provide some backup and the occasional riff with her ukulele, but she does sing a lovely duet with the first guitarist that walked onto the stage. Another antique song, simple, and one she's never recorded that you're aware of.
Jessi
Shortly after that, Jessi simply stands and pulls on your hand, leading you to the door.
Wow, her song... no, cover, is just as amazing. I wonder how it must be to have that kind of talent. Is there pressure to make everything you sing amazing? Or does the joy of it carry you through?
There's no fighting Jessi's pull. I'm hoping we can work on the spending the night part soon. I follow, with a grin.
You find a cab quickly, this one with a human driver who chatters on about local politics all the way back to Delray. The night has cooled a bit, and it's rather pleasant out when he drops you in front of Jessi's building. She keeps tugging your hand all the way up to her flat, where she unlocks the door with a retina scan.
There's no trace of comedy club or mafia in Jessi's place. It's almost minimalist, really, to the naked eye, but she's customized the AR overlays to turn the bareness into elegance. The walls swirl slowly with patterns in muted cream and dusty purple, and the furnishings take on an gentle internal glow.
Once you're inside, she turns to you and pulls your head down for a long, deep kiss.
Jessi uses the AR interface to turn on some soft music and dim the lights, then steps back from you to strip out of her top. The pants must have wireless, because they part and fall to the floor without a touch. She kicks out of her shoes and moves back into your arms wearing just her bra and panties.
Jessi stands on her tiptoes to whisper in your ear. "Time for your reward. What do you want?"
"I think we can make that happen, Benicio." She grabs you by the belt and tugs you toward the bedroom. Once you're at the foot of her big bed, she lets go, takes off her bra and panties, and climbs onto the bed without another word, her ass up in the air and her head down on the silky comforter. Jessi wiggles her ass a little bit, just to make sure you're paying attention.
I walk with her to the bedroom, lights low, music still playing softly. I watch her slink onto the bed, and yes, I'm paying attention. Once she's waiting for me, I walk up behind her. I love the little dimple above her hip, and the shape of her ass. This night has already gotten me ready and watching her there has me hard as a rock. I haven't removed a stitch of clothing, but I fish my cock out of my pants, and guide myself towards her. I don't know how ready she is, so if I need to, I'll rub against her entrance a few times before I slip in. I really want my hands on those hips of hers.
Oh, she's ready. No question. She gives a sigh as you slip into the warm moistness of her, and when you grab her hips and slide home, the sigh becomes a moan. "...aaaaaaah, hell, yes."
My fingers grip her flesh as I pick up a steady rhythm. I want to take her, one good rough time, right here and now. I know I won't last very long if I don't vary the movement, she's just that heavenly. But if this is my prize, then I'm taking it.
Jessi is a willing, even eager, prize. She practically screams truly inventive profanity as she matches you, pushing back to deepen the strokes. For a change, she finishes before you do tonight, literally biting the comforter as she spasms around you, seconds before you reach the point of no return. So, how is it for you, Jubilex, when you pop your cork? And what's next?
It's amazing. Her dirty talk, mixing in Elvish with Cantonese, that gets to.me. i am grunting and sweating as I pound into her. Then she hits her orgasm and I follow her.
A few moments of a hazy bit of ecstasy amd i lie down besode her. "That... was a really great one, Jess. I hope you aren't done." I smirk as I start unbuttoning my shirt.
Jessi flops onto her back and gives you that lopsided grin. "I'm not nearly done, lover." Once you're all the way undressed, she takes a moment to appreciate your taut, wiry body, scars and all, then says, "Queen Lili was something, wasn't she? Have you ever fragged an elf?"
"Not yet. You should work on that..." Jessi winks.
Let's just say, the rest of the night is really, really delightful. It takes you a while to recover, but Jessi's as patient as she is enthusiastic tonight. By the time you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and linens, you and Jessi have both acquired a few bruises, a bite mark or two, and Jessi, at least, has a really good print of your hand across one of her fine ass-cheeks.
Something about tonight was different. Maybe it was that Jessi knew you were fresh off a run, maybe it was that you haven't slotted any BTL for two months, but there was something less restrained between you and Jessi, less cautious. I wonder how that feels?
Sixty four days clean. This morning with Sp!t3 was tempting, but I kept it under control. I chalked it up to her being genuinely thankful for Matteo, but yeah, it was different. A bit more wild, unpredictable. Was she opening up to me? Or are we at the point where we are comfortable with each other's desires?
It was a damn good night, start to finish. Doesn't mean I'm getting marries or any drek like that, but I would not turn down a future with this in it.
And she's given me a challenge to work on, so there's that.
Comments
She's on her way to you, actually. You recognize the look, even if she's a rather sleek and chic example of the style. She's human, no obvious mods, but clearly has an internal access point, and her personal-area network (PAN) is throwing out an AR datapoint with her name (Cecilia Johnson) and a corporate ID (Motown Corp, LLC).
"Jubilex? I'm Mr. Johnson. Word was, you used to be pretty wiz. Think you can be again?"
Word was? Damn, that's a slap in the face. She wants skills at a low rate, I'd imagine.
I look over at Jessi, "Hey, mind if I excuse myself for a moment, Jess?"
As she pours another small bit of icy vodka into her glass, Jessi looks at you, then at Mr. Johnson. "Sure, J. Do what you need to. Just don't be gone too long or I'll take the last piece of your lamb."
I give Jessi a look when she threatens my lamb. She's lucky she's got that crooked smile. "Be right back."
I head off with Mr. Johnson, leaning in to keep her close, keep things quiet. "I'm interested. Motown's a solid media company." I give her a polite smile, but that's all the chatter I have in me. "Do you want to come by Marcus Wellby's place and walk my team through your problem? Or is this a datastick drop and go?"
There's a part of me that would like to make her quite smile. This is a lovely woman. But this is business. "Come by the second Chance Bar at Delray. Marcus Wellby will see you at two, Mr. Johnson."
If she's got nothing else, I'm going to go save my lamb.
Jessi has kindly refrained from taking your lamb, and the two of you finish at a leisurely pace. You don't nearly finish the bottle, but the server provides a carry-bag so you can take it with you, if you like. Jessi's chit-chat and gossip eventually slow down, but it's nothing uncomfortable. Just a digestive lull.
This is a decent neighborhood, Jubilex, and it's early yet for the Leprachaun. Anything you'd like to do before going to your next destination?
As we walking out of Genghis, close, but not holding hands, I turn to my date, "It's still early, Jess. Want to catch a flick at the plex? Walk down to the club district and dance a little? We could hit that cigar bar."
"I know you just want to see me with something round and fat between my lips, but the cigar bar would be aces." You walk along the warm evening streets, Jessi occasionally taking your arm or pointing out some hopeless fashion faux-pas.
The place you're looking for, Leaf it to Me, is next door to that strangest of contradictions, an upscale coffin hotel. When you walk in, the ventilation is so sophisticated that you can smell only the barest hint of the cocktail of combustion products that must be in the air. There's a walk-in humidor with AR datapoints for all the hundreds of cigars and other smokables, a selection of two, three and four person groupings of chairs, and a long bar made from wood reclaimed from a centuries-old logging barge wreck at the bottom of Lake Michigan.
Service here is different, more "wait and see." Do you head straight into the humidor, or speak to the staff first?
"If that was all I wanted, I wouldn't have taken you out, right?" I quip back. I dig her sense of humor. She's a real clothes maestro, so I listen when she slams some of the fashion. I take notes. Literally, recording them for my pocket secretary later.
This place has class. Oozes it. Jessi, with her style and sense of humor, fits right in. I head over to a member of the staff, it's always good to ingratiate yourself to them. Plus, they're usually much smarter about the place than you are, you can get tips and even something on the side from time to time.
A female dwarf in a well-tailored black suit is unobtrusively located at a high table near the humidor. Her AR tag says her name is Friga, and that she is a "Smoke Steward." "Can I help you, sir, madam?"
"Hoi Friga. I'm Jube, this is my date Jess. We're fresh off some spicy Mongolian and headed to Leprechaun's in an hour or so. What would you recommend for the lady tonight?" I'm being polite, and yes, I'm spoiling Jessi tonight. She'll end up with something in her mouth, after all. heh heh.
Friga ponders, looking at Jessi and then you. "Date night? Perhaps a Romeo y Julieta for each of you, then. Straight from Cuba, of course. Perhaps a nice Maduro for the gentleman, something rich and full-bodied, and maybe a sweet and spicy Reserva for the lady? Is this your first time here?"
I don't know if Jessi's been here, but I answer, "This is my first time, but I've heard good things. Jess?" I'm good to take the Maduro, it sounds tasty.
Jessi smiles at Friga. "My first time, as well. The Reserva sounds wiz, thanks!"
Friga invites you into the rich-smelling, moist interior of the humidor, leads you down the row upon row of drawers. Some are marked with individual members' names and have maglocks. Others are marked with brands and makers, and have AR floats that respond with information when you give them attention. Images of palm trees and rich tropical vegetation, men and women carefully and expertly rolling cigars, tobacco leaves drying in the sun. If you had the full setup, you could probably feel the breeze.
The dwarf opens two adjacent drawers and pulls out two cigars. Yours is thick and the wrapper is dark. It smells rich, as expected. Jessi sniffs hers and smiles. "A little peppery. Nice."
Friga says, "Since this is your first time, I hope you'll let me comp you some cognac or bourbon to accompany your smoke. Do you have a preference?" She turns to lead you back out, to a pair of richly-padded leather chairs with a small table between them.
Looking at all the individual folders is really impressive. Names that look Elvish, a few corp names, too. This humidor probably costs more than the whole Marcus Wellby setup. Simple amazing.
"Cognac would be excellent," I answer, impressed by her generosity. The good life. I could see return trips. Maybe the team could come here after the Motown job?
I walk with Jessi to take a seat on the cushy chair, sniff my cigar slow and deep, inhale the moment.
Friga clips both your cigars and lights them with an old-fashioned looking but technologically modern Zippo lighter. "Have a lovely evening. Please ping me if you need anything."
Jessi leans back in her chair, splays her legs out in a distinctly "butch" fashion. She deepens her voice and takes on an imitation of her father. "Jubilex, this cigar is distinctly delicious." She takes a big drag and puffs it out, clearly trying to make a smoke ring and failing, then coughs.
I shake my head and laugh a soft laugh at her antics. "I'm so very glad you aren't a guy, Jessi. For several reasons." I take a puff of my stogie, it's very smooth. "Now, be careful on inhaling. It can go to your head quickly. And make you sick as a dog."
Jessi moves back to a more normal stance. "Yeah, yeah." Waving the cigar around, she continues, "This really is tasty though. And for sure smells better than that donkey manure daddy smokes." She takes a sip of her cognac and nods approvingly.
"Pretty sure your dad's cigars are as expensive as these, probably moreso. I bet they taste better than they smell." I don't know why I'm defending her father, I just do. Should I be a loyal boyfriend? I'm not really a boyfriend, though. Not right now. I sip the cognac, smoke on my cigar, ease back in the chair.
Jessi gives you a raised eyebrow, like she's going to push back when you contradict her about the Don's cigars, but then relaxes and takes a big puff. "So, are you spending the night tonight?"
I tap out some ash in the tray in between us. It's made of some polyfiber that sparkles when the ash lands, light webs of color that fade. It's a weird bit of tech in a place that, other than AR, is pretty classic. "If you'll have me, I'd like that, Jess." I look over at her, mostly at that dimple of hers, and her mouth. Such a beautiful mouth. Like the rest of her, but something even more entrancing.
Jessi smiles, content with that answer. You smoke in silence for quite a while, watching the streamers of smoke drift up to the vent fans and listening to quiet jazz through subtly placed speakers. The fire of the cognac and the smoke of the cigar combine in your mouth with a sort of alchemy, and the chance to just lazily be somewhere, with someone you care about, seems to slow down time.
When your cigars are about halfway smoked, Jessi suddenly remembers something. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Got a really big booking for the club today. Harvey LeFair, the simsense star. He's 'going back to his roots' and touring a live show."
What do you know about Harvey LeFair that Jessi probably doesn't, Jubilex?
I look over at her. "That's a great catch. He's really popular." I offer my glass for a small toast.
Harvey LeFair went dark last year because his brain was hacked and wiped. He's reconstructing himself from back-ups, evidently. When he says "back to his roots", he isn't lying.
You both finish your cigars and your cognac, having passed a pleasant and quiet hour or so, and after paying for the cigars and leaving (I assume) a generous tip for Friga, you make your way a few blocks to the Laughing Leprechaun, a funky little music joint with a mixed clientele and a great reputation for actual live music, played by actual live people. The best-kept-secret is what happens on Monday nights (which tonight happens to be). It's a come-one, come-all jam session with musicians from all over the PRD and many who just happen to be travelling through, all (amazingly) acoustic, not even amplified. You're early enough to get a table, and not so early that you have to wait long for folks to start showing up, nodding to each other, pulling chairs onto the stage, and making music.
Jubilex, Jessi's certainly been here before, and I'm pretty certain you have. Who did you come with, the first time?
Yes, generous tip for Friga, she earned it. I will be returning to this place.
First time I was here was with Method, a hacker extraordinaire. We worked together for a while, back when I was a suit. We frakked like bunnies on weekends. It was crazy, hot and heavy for months. Then I washed out and she stayed corp. I became untouchable, I guess. She stopped calling. No hard feelings.
I find myself hovering near Jessi as we sit at the table. We order a few drinks and a hookah. This is going to be a great night.
Jessi scoots her chair close to yours and traces a finger along the back of your hand. As she takes a hit on the hookah, a guitarist opens his case, pulls out a pick, and sits down, just doodling and tuning at first, then launching into a lively Old World jig tune of some sort, which brings smiles and nods from those around you.
Another musician comes up, then another. Finally, about a dozen folks are crowded onto the stage. Not all of them play every tune, but the night becomes a lively back-and-forth, with suggestions called from the audience.
Wow. Queen Lili is so much more than I imagined. Most elves seem unreal, but Lili is amazingly relatable. And hot, did I mention hot? I've got a date, thanks, but that's a girl I wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers, that's for sure.
I slide my hand down to Jessi's and squeeze hers, sharing in her excitement. Order a fresh round of drinks and wait for the magic.
Like everybody who is anybody, there are rumors about Queen Lili. That she uses a glamour to actually look less elf-y than she is. That she's a powerful mage in her own right. What you know as mostly fact is this: she's nearly sixty, one of the first wave of elves to be born after UGE manifested. She's been a star for nearly forty of those years, and is still loved and respected by fans. And, she's been targeted by Humanis Policlub at least once a year for those forty years.
Egalitarian or not, eventually the musicians on stage reach a consensus that it's time for Queen Lili to have a little spotlight. She starts plucking on the strings of her ukulele and sings her rendition of an old, old (like TwenCen old) song. What song is it, Jubilex?
It's a little number that first got her popular, my favorite. Somewhere Over the Rainbow. It's adorable and heartfelt and simply perfect.
For a moment after Queen Lili finishes, you are surrounded by the rare luxury of a group of people being silent together, then instead of applause there's a collective sigh. A beat or two, and then someone with a flute starts playing a jaunty tune and stamping her foot, and the music's off again, wild. There isn't much room to dance here, but one dwarf climbs on top of her table and provides a quick, virtuoso percussion accompaniment with the heels and toes of her shoes.
Jessi, eyes still moist, leans over and gives you a kiss on the cheek.
I squeeze Jessi's hand, "That was fabulous. Thanks for the suggestion, Jess."
You stay and listen for another hour. Queen Lili mostly seems content to provide some backup and the occasional riff with her ukulele, but she does sing a lovely duet with the first guitarist that walked onto the stage. Another antique song, simple, and one she's never recorded that you're aware of.
Shortly after that, Jessi simply stands and pulls on your hand, leading you to the door.
Wow, her song... no, cover, is just as amazing. I wonder how it must be to have that kind of talent. Is there pressure to make everything you sing amazing? Or does the joy of it carry you through?
There's no fighting Jessi's pull. I'm hoping we can work on the spending the night part soon. I follow, with a grin.
You find a cab quickly, this one with a human driver who chatters on about local politics all the way back to Delray. The night has cooled a bit, and it's rather pleasant out when he drops you in front of Jessi's building. She keeps tugging your hand all the way up to her flat, where she unlocks the door with a retina scan.
There's no trace of comedy club or mafia in Jessi's place. It's almost minimalist, really, to the naked eye, but she's customized the AR overlays to turn the bareness into elegance. The walls swirl slowly with patterns in muted cream and dusty purple, and the furnishings take on an gentle internal glow.
Once you're inside, she turns to you and pulls your head down for a long, deep kiss.
Note to self - night out and live music is definitely a turn-on.
I kiss her back, keeping it slow, letting her guide the pace. My right hand does rub her shimmery top, it's so smooth, like the skin underneath.
Jessi uses the AR interface to turn on some soft music and dim the lights, then steps back from you to strip out of her top. The pants must have wireless, because they part and fall to the floor without a touch. She kicks out of her shoes and moves back into your arms wearing just her bra and panties.
Jessi stands on her tiptoes to whisper in your ear. "Time for your reward. What do you want?"
That. Was an impressive disrobing. I love technology.
I put an arm on her side, "You. Your bed on your hands and knees. If... you don't mind." I give her a devilish smile, then bend and kiss her.
"I think we can make that happen, Benicio." She grabs you by the belt and tugs you toward the bedroom. Once you're at the foot of her big bed, she lets go, takes off her bra and panties, and climbs onto the bed without another word, her ass up in the air and her head down on the silky comforter. Jessi wiggles her ass a little bit, just to make sure you're paying attention.
I walk with her to the bedroom, lights low, music still playing softly. I watch her slink onto the bed, and yes, I'm paying attention. Once she's waiting for me, I walk up behind her. I love the little dimple above her hip, and the shape of her ass. This night has already gotten me ready and watching her there has me hard as a rock. I haven't removed a stitch of clothing, but I fish my cock out of my pants, and guide myself towards her. I don't know how ready she is, so if I need to, I'll rub against her entrance a few times before I slip in. I really want my hands on those hips of hers.
Oh, she's ready. No question. She gives a sigh as you slip into the warm moistness of her, and when you grab her hips and slide home, the sigh becomes a moan. "...aaaaaaah, hell, yes."
My fingers grip her flesh as I pick up a steady rhythm. I want to take her, one good rough time, right here and now. I know I won't last very long if I don't vary the movement, she's just that heavenly. But if this is my prize, then I'm taking it.
Jessi is a willing, even eager, prize. She practically screams truly inventive profanity as she matches you, pushing back to deepen the strokes. For a change, she finishes before you do tonight, literally biting the comforter as she spasms around you, seconds before you reach the point of no return. So, how is it for you, Jubilex, when you pop your cork? And what's next?
It's amazing. Her dirty talk, mixing in Elvish with Cantonese, that gets to.me. i am grunting and sweating as I pound into her. Then she hits her orgasm and I follow her.
A few moments of a hazy bit of ecstasy amd i lie down besode her. "That... was a really great one, Jess. I hope you aren't done." I smirk as I start unbuttoning my shirt.
Jessi flops onto her back and gives you that lopsided grin. "I'm not nearly done, lover." Once you're all the way undressed, she takes a moment to appreciate your taut, wiry body, scars and all, then says, "Queen Lili was something, wasn't she? Have you ever fragged an elf?"
"It was," I say as I climb onto her, kissing the nape of her neck, "A very long time ago. What about you?"
"Not yet. You should work on that..." Jessi winks.
Let's just say, the rest of the night is really, really delightful. It takes you a while to recover, but Jessi's as patient as she is enthusiastic tonight. By the time you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and linens, you and Jessi have both acquired a few bruises, a bite mark or two, and Jessi, at least, has a really good print of your hand across one of her fine ass-cheeks.
Something about tonight was different. Maybe it was that Jessi knew you were fresh off a run, maybe it was that you haven't slotted any BTL for two months, but there was something less restrained between you and Jessi, less cautious. I wonder how that feels?
Sixty four days clean. This morning with Sp!t3 was tempting, but I kept it under control. I chalked it up to her being genuinely thankful for Matteo, but yeah, it was different. A bit more wild, unpredictable. Was she opening up to me? Or are we at the point where we are comfortable with each other's desires?
It was a damn good night, start to finish. Doesn't mean I'm getting marries or any drek like that, but I would not turn down a future with this in it.
And she's given me a challenge to work on, so there's that.