By Geonn Cannon
The woman at the makeup counter said my lips should look like two polished apples on a porcelain plate. I hadn't gone that far; my lips were deep cherry red, but I'd left some color in my cheeks. There were limits to what make-up could do, after all. My black suit jacket was open at the top, revealing the vest underneath. I had gone without a shirt beneath the vest; like a peacock showing off her plumage. I wasn't taking any chances.
My normally curled red hair had been gelled back tightly against my skull. One curl hung free and tickled my right eyebrow. I stepped back from the full-length mirror and examined myself. My skirt clung to my hips and I turned to examine the profile. Tight, but manageable. I smoothed down the material, picked up my clutch and headed for the door.
The Bygone was a three-story building a few blocks from my apartment. I walked as usual, ignoring the stares and curious looks my outfit drew. At the door, a man wearing an impeccably tailored suit smiled as I approached. "Ms. Griffiths." I handed him a folded fifty-dollar bill and he held open the front door for me.
While the exterior implied a typical nightclub, the ballroom within was anything but. A crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling, sending sparkles of light in every direction. The people dancing wore old-fashioned suits and gowns, nothing past 1950 in this club. I took a drink from a passing waiter and moved along the sidelines.
An actual band, all dressed in matching tuxedos, had set up at the far end of the room. The men on the dance floor were wearing tuxes as well, their hair slicked back, acting like proper gentlemen. Get <i>that</i> from any nightclub in town, I thought with a smirk.
I sipped my champagne and stood by the wall, waiting for the opportunity to join the swirling dollies on the dance floor. The women moved like rose petals caught in the wind, swirling and dipping and spinning. I was had nearly finished my drink when a voice whispered in my ear.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
I turned to look over my shoulder, eyebrow raised, and smiled with my not-quite apple lips. The woman standing to my left was wearing a veiled cloche hat. Her eyes were hidden behind the lace, but even in the darkness I could tell they were a knee-weakening jade green. "What's that?" I asked as I faced forward again.
"All these women. Half of them are wearing corsets. Unnecessary torture. Corsets were already on their way out in the forties."
"Lazy retro," I suggested. "They assume fifty years ago were the dark ages. Ergo, corsets."
"And what about you? Were you lazy?" Her arm snaked around my waist and drew me towards her. She spread her fingers over the material of my coat and felt only my vest covering my stomach. She let her hand linger for a moment and the heat of her palm seeped into me. I looked over my shoulder at her and saw her lips curl into a smile. "Good girl."
"What do I win?"
"A drink of your choice," she said.
I turned in the loop of her arms, moving her caress to the small of my back, and brought my hand up to her glass. I laced my fingers through hers and brought it up to my lips. I took a sip, keeping my eyes on hers as I swallowed. "Excellent choice," she said. She moved the glass away and bent down. The tip of her tongue brushed over my bottom lip to gather the moisture left there by her cocktail and I shivered.
I put my drink down on the nearest table and she did the same. I finally stepped away from her hand and walked out onto the ballroom floor. My heels clicked on the tile, but I didn't notice. All I heard were her footsteps in determined pursuit. I smiled and turned. She ran into me, fully on purpose, and kissed my lips without preamble.
Around us, tuxedoed men danced together and women struggled not to step on one another's dresses. I curled my hand into the blonde hair that rested on my partner's neck and broke the kiss. "Amelia," I said.
"Beth." She kissed me again. Names had been exchanged. At this point in the evening, what else was there?
The band broke into Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade and we broke apart. She put her head on my shoulder and we danced through the rest of the song. When the music ended to a smattering of applause, she pulled back and took my hand. With a tilt of her head, she walked me off the dance floor and to a door on the far side of the room.
We found ourselves in a small, dark corridor that ran the length of the building. Kitchen staff likely used it to get to work without disturbing the 1940's ambiance of the main room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, she was on me. I felt the sheetrock against my back, her hands on my breasts as her tongue swirled across mine.
She unbuttoned my jacket without delay and snaked her hands around my hips. I hitched up my skirt to give her room and immediately felt her leg insinuate itself between my thighs. I bent down until I was practically sitting on her knee. Rather than do anything halfway, I hooked my leg over her hip and thrust myself forward. She took my weight as I brought the other leg up and pressed against her. She moaned into my mouth and rested my shoulders against the wall.
Her hands cupped my ass and drew me forward. When she broke the kiss, I licked her upper lip and smiled. "Is this how they did it in the forties?"
She grinned and pulled one hand back. She brushed my stomach with her knuckles before dipping down between my legs. She flattened her fingers between her stomach and my crotch. We looked into each other's eyes as she pressed my panties into my pussy. I groaned and pressed my head into the wall. She took the opportunity to assault my neck, sending tiny shockwaves through my body. "Oh, God, I love that," I gasped.
She nipped at my neck and removed her hand. She leaned back and I was supported entirely by the wall. She looked into my eyes as she pushed my skirt higher. I gasped, bit my lip and thrust towards her. I didn't care how wanton it seemed, I didn't care how it looked. I wanted her fingers inside of me, I wanted them so bad it hurt. I bit my bottom lip, pretended I could taste her cocktail there and moaned low in my throat.
Her hand slid across my panties, pushed them out of the way and then found their way inside. She looked down and watched her fingertips disappear inside of me. I cupped the back of her head and began to move myself on her fingers, rising and falling, guiding her strokes to where I needed it the most. My fingers tightened, grabbing handfuls of her hair as I fucked myself, harder and faster until my legs tightened around her hips.
I came in that dark hallway, my mind half in the past, and cried out her name. She covered my mouth with her free hand, whispered, "Sh, sh, sh, sh," and withdrew her hand from my underwear. She switched hands and then her wet fingers were in my mouth. I groaned and sucked them hard, rolling my tongue from one finger to the next.
When I'd taken it all, she removed her hand and we kissed. She lowered me to the floor and made sure I could stand on my own before stepped back. I watched, sure she was going to disappear back through the doors. Instead, she turned her back to me, pressed herself to the opposite wall and put her hands in the small of her back. She looked at me over her shoulder, legs spread as if she expected to be frisked and whispered, "Come on. Come on."
I stepped away from the wall and knelt behind her. I gathered her gown in my hands and revealed the backs of her legs. Her hose had a seam running up the middle and I bent my head to run my tongue along the dark path. She trembled as I reached her thighs and the lacy tops of her nylons. I put the dress over my head and was entombed in darkness.
All I could smell was her, my entire world consisted of the smooth white panties in front of my face. I licked my lips and then kissed the top of her legs. She moaned and I eased them down to bare her ass. Her legs moved further apart and I saw a hint of pink between her thighs. I kissed the creamy white flesh of her ass and brought my hand up to stroke her with the knuckles of two fingers.
She was so wet, dripping, that my fingers moved into her without resistance. She gasped and her legs trembled. I kissed the curve of her ass and twisted my hand a little. I wished I could see her face, wished I could touch her breasts as I fingered her. I reached around with my free hand and found her clit. She cried out, a short, anguished sound as I brushed the sensitive nub with two fingers. She came then, squeezing my fingers with her pussy until her climax released her.
I ducked out from beneath her gown and stood before her. We kissed, my brown eyes open to her jade, hands roaming each other's bodies lazily. I bit her bottom lip, pulled it and she growled at me until I released it. She smiled, stroked my face and slipped from my arms.
"I have to let you buy me a drink again," I said.
She ran her thumb along my bottom lip and sucked it into her own mouth. "We'll just have to see about that."
I didn't want to leave anything to chance. I pulled a small card from my pocket and held it out between two trembling fingers. I never gave this out, but I always assumed it would be handy if I ever did find someone who wanted my number. "Here. Just... in case."
She took the card with my phone number on it and tucked it into her glove. She kissed me one last time, lingering as if she knew it might be our final kiss and slipped away. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Amelia."
I watched her disappear through the door. I sagged against the wall and smiled as I pulled my dress down.
"I don't care what he said. Don't let him go. Do you... no! Do not let him go. That's final. Whatever it costs." I disconnected the call and sighed as I surveyed my troops. I tucked my right arm close to my side to keep from twisting it on the cord that connected my cell phone to the earpiece. I turned away from the work space and walked back into my office.
Before I made it to my desk, my phone rang again. I answered it by pressing a button. "Amelia Griffiths."
The voice sent a shock through my body and I had to sit down before my knees gave out. "Beth."
She laughed. "I wasn't sure you remembered."
"It's only been, what, sixty years?"
"Your memory is truly something."
"You're very memorable."
"Are you at work?"
"No, home. Called in sick today."
I nodded. "We could do lunch," I suggested, trying to think of a place where we could get together and not eat lunch.
"I'm not hungry. What are you wearing?"
I blushed and glanced towards my office door. "I'm at work."
"I know. It's turning me on."
"I barely even know you."
"Even better," she said softly.
I cleared my throat and sank down in my chair. As I spread my legs, I said, "Black skirt, white blouse and high heels."
As she described what she was wearing, what she wanted to do to me, I smiled. We'd done the past. I guess it was only fitting that we give the present a whirl...
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