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elrhiarhodanTitle: Retail Therapy II – Frilly Bits - For Kink Bingo
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Rating: NC-17 (See W/E/T)
Fandom: White Collar, no spoilers
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey / Peter Burke / Elizabeth Burke, P/E/N - OT3
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Public Sex in Secret, Double Penetration, Boy!Kissing, Girl!Come!Play
Word Count: ~3800
Summary: It’s all about the underwear, this time. (You Asked For It - You Got It)
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kink_bingo, Double Penetration Square.
Unbeta’d and thus probably full of errors. Comments and criticisms are loved and adored.
__________________________________
“Wait a second…we were talking about underwear. I want to hear about the underwear.” It was Peter’s turn to whine.
“Tell you what, big boy. When we get to La Perla, we’ll call you back. Their dressing rooms are big enough for two, so Elizabeth will give me a private show.
From Retail Therapy I – The Perfect Pair of Shoes
__________________________________
“Let me take those.” Neal reached for the bags Elizabeth was carrying. “This is why you brought me along.”
“Yes.” Her smile was one of pure joy. “And to drive my husband crazy.”
Neal grinned back at her. “Sometimes, I think that’s what I do best.”
“Oh, honey…” She kept her smile bright, but Elizabeth wondered if Neal really understood his true worth to them. He had become, in such a short time, the bright golden center of their little universe. It still had the power to surprise and wound her when she saw just how little Neal valued himself and his gifts. His devotion and his complete and utter loyalty were as precious to her as the bone-deep love she shared with Peter.
“Do you still want to go lingerie shopping?”
“Of course… Don’t you think that Peter deserves a reward for what we did to him today?”
“I like the way your mind works, Elizabeth. Phone sex with your husband, while he’s stuck in an office fishbowl earns him sexy, frilly bits.”
“And maybe more phone sex.”
“I thought the phone sex was the punishment, not the reward.”
“Hmmm - I don’t know. Sex is sex...it’s not supposed to be about punishment. Unless you’re a sadist and punishment is sex.”
“Elizabeth - you aren’t making any sense.”
She reach up and kissed him. “I don’t care. I want lingerie to match my new shoes.”
“You know, I do have an alternative to La Perla.” Neal licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. El wasn’t sure what that expression was – but it looked like a combination of “admire my brilliance” and “I’m nervous.”
“You have an alternative to the finest, sexiest Italian lingerie store in the City?”
“Well, that’s the thing – it’s not. Not exactly THE sexiest, the finest.”
Elizabeth tapped her foot, radiating skepticism.
“A couple of years ago, I helped out a friend. She was looking for investors and I needed a place to put some money.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do I really want to know about your money laundering schemes?”
“No, no. Nothing illegal. Sonia needed some start up capital and I was in a position to help her.”
“Sonia?” Elizabeth was both curious and a little jealous. She had visions of a six foot tall blonde Swedish supermodel. Neal may have been utterly devoted to Kate, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his flirts.
Neal didn’t say anything more as he flagged a cab. The address he gave was on Mercer Street, in the heart of SoHo. He took a few minutes and sent an email or text, presumably to this Sonia person and then just sat back, put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders and toyed with the nape of her neck. The light stroking drove her a little bit crazy, but she wouldn’t have him stop for the world. He watched her carefully, silently, a cat-like smile on his lips. He was up to something and she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
Peter finally calmed down. Or at least his dick finally calmed down enough that he could get up and leave the office without being thoroughly embarrassed. Neal had spent at least ten more minutes lovingly telling him about the shoes that El was trying on, how they slid onto her feet (he had at least a dozen different ways to describe the way her toes pointed, her instep arched, her calves flexed). Peter really didn’t have a shoe fetish (or he didn’t have one until now), he just went insane over El’s toe cleavage. And now that Neal knew, he was in deep, deep trouble.
It was close to three and neither El nor Neal had called him. Peter was both annoyed and a little relieved they forgot the promise to call him when they got to the bra and panty store – he wasn’t sure he’d survive another session of phone sex, but he still wanted to hear about the underwear.
He flipped through a few files, checked for email, and checked his voice mail. Got updates on the active cases from Diana and Jones and stewed. At this point, there was just no way was he going to get any more work done the rest of the day. He was going to go home, feed and walk the dog, and meet El and Neal at Neal’s apartment. He needed to see the shoes. He needed to see the lingerie. He was a man with simple needs that could easily be met. There would, of course, be fucking along with the seeing of the shoes and the lingerie. That went without saying.
Then Peter had a brainstorm, he would get his revenge.
The store owned by Neal’s friend turned out to be a very discrete second floor venue, classy and rarified, decorated in muted sea-toned velvets and silks. El was certain now that Sonia was a Swedish supermodel, six feet tall with tiny breasts and natural blond hair, and when she jogged, nothing giggled.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Neal called the woman who came bustling out of the back of the store “bubbah” and she pinched his cheek and berated him in … Yiddish?
Sonia Millstein, as Neal introduced her, was barely five feet tall and looked like every Jewish grandmother she had ever met, if every Jewish grandmother spritzed herself in Arpège, wore vintage Chanel suits, Harry Winston diamonds and cat’s-eye glasses. Elizabeth was charmed.
Those eyes, behind the old-fashion glasses missed nothing, including the rings on Elizabeth’s finger. “You’re not Neal’s girlfriend.” Her face was set, serious.
Elizabeth didn’t have a clue how Neal was going to define their relationship. He was so good at compartmentalizing his life, and she tried to steal herself against the potential hurt of denial or lies. But Neal shocked her once again, and he simply said. “Elizabeth and her husband are my lovers.” He held himself still, straight, his gaze unwavering, prepared for a body blow of censure, of revulsion.
Sonia stared first at Neal, then at Elizabeth and she could see how the older woman was weighing and measuring her on some set of moral scales. “You loff him?”
“Yes.” No equivocation.
“You loff your husband?”
“Absolutely.”
“You haff a big heart, shainkeit.”
The little woman turned to Neal. “So - It’s not just the schtupping, eh?”
Neal grinned and hugged her, “No, bubbeh, it’s not just the schtupping.”
With that, Sonia became all business. They showed her the shoes, which elicited quite a bit of oohing and ahhing and compliments on both their tastes. They were ushered into a fitting room about the size of her guest room and Sonia commanded her to strip.
Elizabeth watched Neal watch her as Sonia measured her, top to bottom and all the places in-between. Neal’s gaze was, as always, admiring and she fought to keep her arousal in check. This must be how Peter felt when we were tag-teaming him from Barney’s.
It was a little warm in the room, which Elizabeth appreciated, being nearly naked. Sonia removed her jacket and Elizabeth’s eye caught something on the old woman’s left forearm. A tattoo, in faded blue ink, six numbers and the letter “A”. Her heart broke and she must have made a noise, because Sonia looked up from her notes.
“Yes, yes. I know.” Sonia pinched Elizabeth’s chin and forced her eyes up. “This is why you must luff when and where you can. It can be taken from you without pity, without mercy.”
Elizabeth swallowed and blinked against her tears and bowed her head, pressing a kiss into the marks. Sonia patted her cheek and whispered something that Elizabeth didn’t understand. She handed Elizabeth a silk robe and bustled out of the fitting room.
“Are you okay?” Neal’s quiet voice startled her, and she went to him and he held her on his lap, stroking her back. Someday, not today, she was going to get the full story from him. They sat in companionable silence until Sonia came back, laden with boxes of what looked to be the most lavishly decorated bits of silk and satin and lace she had ever seen.
“Pick what you like and we’ll do the fittings. Haff fun and let me know if you need anything.” Sonia smiled at the lovers and tapped a finger against the side of her nose. “I am nothing if not discreet.” She closed the door behind her.
Peter checked and rechecked Neal’s location. La Perla was on Greene Street, but his tracker was coming back as exactly one block east, on Mercer. He confirmed the accuracy with the EMU and decided to head there first.
The app on his phone verified Neal’s location and Peter considered the empty parking spot a sign of good fortune. There was no storefront, but the name on the door, La Serenissima, in elegant gold script made him laugh. Of course he would take El to Venice, but at least there wasn’t a strong awning for Neal to jump onto.
A door was opened on the second floor and Peter wandered into an undersea paradise, but he was confused. Not a bra or pair of panties, or a single piece of lacy something-under to be seen. These kind of rarified, elegant shops made him nervous - it was like going to a restaurant where the menus didn’t have prices. He was in the right place, but calling out for his wife and lover was out of the question.
“Shit.” He would text Neal and tell him to get his ass out here.
“Can I help you?” The voice was right behind him, and a foot below his shoulder. A small, well-dressed old woman was standing there, with a look of knowing curiosity in her sharp, twinkling eyes.
Peter nearly jumped out of his skin – he didn’t hear anyone enter the room. “Ummm. Yes – ahhh – I’m looking for…”
She gently took hold of his left hand, examined his wedding ring and said “They’re in the back, second door on your left.”
When his heart started beating again, he followed her instructions and found his wife and his lover, just as he hoped to. He listened at the door and peeked through the slats.
“I think I prefer the ivory with the pink trim. It goes better with your coloring. The black is too harsh, too banal.” Neal was sitting on a chair, watching his wife model an extremely fetching set of lingerie.
“You had no problems with the black and red outfit a few months ago.” Elizabeth teased as she pranced around the room in a credible imitation of a runway model.
“It went with the hat. And I think you wanted to be sleazy.” They both laughed, and it seemed the perfect cue for his entrance as the angry husband.
“You said you were going to call me when you got to La Perla.” It was gratifying to see both of them jump.
Neal tipped his head back in challenge. “We didn’t go to La Perla, so technically…”
“Screw the technicalities, Neal. I’m not a toy that you can just wind up and walk away from.”
The three of them stood there, the room charged with tension.
Peter was having a hard time playing at angry, not because he wasn’t – but because he could see the struggle in Neal’s face. He knew how much Neal worried about pushing him too far, taking their games beyond the boundaries that Peter needed to respect, and Peter sometimes took pleasure in using that fear.
“I’m sorry.” Neal tried to infuse as much regret into those words as he could, and Peter laughed at himself. Neal was incorrigible and what he was about to do would only encourage him more.
“I am too.” Elizabeth chimed in, biting her lip. “We sort of got carried away and well…” Her voice drifted off in response to Peter’s rather unnerving stare.
“I thought about waiting until you got home to punish you…” Peter paused, seemingly for effect. “Then I thought – why?” He shrugged off his jacket, but left his holster on and his hands moved to his belt, toying with the buckle.
Of the two of them, Elizabeth seemed more nervous – and more visibly excited. She knotted her hands in front of her and crossed her legs, clenching her thighs.
“El – I think you just ruined those panties, and you haven’t even paid for them yet.” Peter smirked at her.
She blushed, bright red.
“Have you ever told Neal about your favorite kink?” Peter’s voice was harsh, and she shook her head, blushing even more furiously. Peter moved to stand behind his wife, one arm around her waist, the other toying with the tops of her breasts, then pushing her hair out of the way. Keeping his eyes on Neal, he pressed biting kisses against Elizabeth’s neck and shoulder.
“Tell him, sweetheart. Tell Neal what you would like me to do to you.” Peter bit down hard, and Elizabeth moaned. “Tell him.”
“I want to have sex with Peter in public places.” She whined as Peter pinched her nipple through the lace. “I’d like to have secret sex in public places.”
Peter showed his wife a little mercy. “We’ve never actually done it, but El’s kept me entertained with her fantasies of getting fucked on the M4 uptown bus.”
Neal blinked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Elizabeth Burke, you are a dirty, nasty girl.”
She writhed against Peter, who kept worrying at her nipple. “What do you have to say to that, El?”
“Yessss. I am a dirty, dirty girl.”
Peter watched Neal stroke himself through his pants. “It turns you on, Neal doesn’t it? The thought of being discovered. The risk someone walking in on you while your fucking.”
“Peter – I think it turns you on even more. You’re the one who didn’t hang up the phone this afternoon. Sitting in your office, no blinds...did you touch yourself?” Neal, apparently, wasn’t going to give Peter an inch, metaphorically speaking.
Peter growled and turned his attention back to his wife, who was rubbing her ass against him. He rolled the lace and satin panties down over her hips and as they landed around the pair of ridiculously sexy pink satin shoes (he tried hard to ignore the bit of toe cleavage), he couldn’t help but notice that the panties were, in fact, ruined.
“Neal – you’re not getting away scott-free. Come here.” Neal obeyed and Peter grinned. When it came to sex, the man was all about compliance.
“Peter – I don’t think anything we do in this room is going to qualify as punishment. We are all going to enjoy ourselves far too much.”
“Hmmm, you’re right. We’ll save the punishment for later. I’ve got some new toys at home.” Peter chuckled to himself…as if anything involving a toy would actually be considered real punishment.
Neal read his mind, it wasn’t hard. “Basically, Peter – it’s any excuse for you to top me.”
“Yeah, pretty much. And I don’t need an excuse, do I?” Neal leaned over El’s shoulder and planted a kiss on Peter’s smiling lips. “What do you want me to do?”
Elizabeth tried to take the decision out of both their hands and started to fumble with Neal’s fly, but Peter captured her hands. “Un huh, this is my show now. Neal, on your knees.”
The word play gave them all a laugh, which was cut short as Neal held Elizabeth’s hips and began to plant soft, teasing kisses on her belly, just at the edge of the corset, then licking and biting ones across the top of her mons, then tangling his fingers in the neatly trimmed and damp curls. She trembled in Peter’s arms as Neal bit lightly at the sweet spot just above her slit. She hissed as his fingers teased around and around her clit, and then taking small, lightening quick dips into her vagina.
Another set of fingers, harder, blunter joined, with Neal’s, collecting and spreading her thick moisture around her little pink anus, working it around and around until she was a mass of slick, shaking nerves. Peter carefully worked his index finger into her ass. El was no stranger to sodomy, but the first forays were always taken slowly.
Neal added a second finger and then a third, plunging into her cunt as Peter was pulling out of her ass, their movement in perfect synchronization. Elizabeth started to pull and tug at her nipples, squeezing them hard through the lacy cups, her long nails snagging on the material.
El was getting noisy, and Peter really didn’t want that strange little old lady overhearing them, so he covered her mouth with his other hand, not minding that she bit down, stifling her cries. They continued to work her with their hands. Neal was biting and sucking hard at her clit, thrusting into her tight wetness without any rhythm. Peter just held her impaled on a single digit, whispering in her ear.
“You’re a dirty, filthy girl, aren’t you, Elizabeth Burke. You like having two men finger you, fuck you with just their hands.” He nipped her earlobe, and she bit down harder on his hand. “You’re so wet, so hot – it’s like a river between your thighs. When you come, you’re going to drown Neal.”
Neal jammed a thumb hard against her clit and Elizabeth came, sweating and shaking.
Holding her upright through her orgasm, Peter then lowered her gently to the floor and knelt beside her. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He tenderly brushed the damp curls from her forehead.
“Give me a minute, you beasts.” She grinned at him and then at Neal, a tired but salacious smile. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Neal, ever cheeky, replied “In more ways than one.” He took out his handkerchief and started to clean Elizabeth up. Peter watched in approval and when he was done, put a heavy hand on the back of Neal’s neck and drew him close.
“Got to clean you up too.” Peter proceeded to lick El’s silver off of Neal’s face, finished at his lips. They kissed as they always did, with tongues and teeth and a small element of combat, until his wife reached up and pulled their faces down to her so she could join in. Peter lost track of time as the three of them lay on the dressing room floor, just kissing. He finally broke away from their devouring mouths and looked Neal over, whose cock a hugely obscene bulge. He licked his lips, but some sense of propriety prevailed.
“We’ve got to stop.” Neal grabbed his tie and pulled him close, but Peter resisted. “Do you think the old lady’s been listening at the door?”
Neal let go. “Sonia – nah. She wouldn’t do that. She’ll just watch the tapes of us after we leave.”
“Whaaat!” Peter jumped up and started looking around for hidden cameras.
“Calm down, Peter. Neal’s only joking.” Elizabeth looked at Neal. “You are only joking?”
Neal just wagged his brows and smiled. Peter gave him the scary bad-cop look and Neal relented. “No, Sonia doesn’t have any cameras or audio equipment in the dressing rooms. That would be unprofessional.”
Peter gave his wife a hand and pulled her to her feet. Neal just sat on the floor admiring the view as Elizabeth removed the now ruined corset and slid out of the Louboutins. She handed him the lingerie. “Do you think this can be fixed?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. Neal finally stood up, retrieved the panties El had been wearing when Peter arrived and the other items that she wanted to purchase. “I’ll settle this up with Sonia and meet you upfront.”
Peter watched as Neal kissed his wife, hard and quick. He felt that he should make some token protest. “You’re not buying my wife lingerie.”
El gave him The Look. “Peter Burke– if you know what’s good for, you’ll keep your mouth shut.” He did.
By the time El finished dressing, Peter was presentable to the public again. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to suffer from a perpetual case of blue balls whenever Elizabeth and Neal got together.
“So, you want a corset? Your boyfriend wants you to dress up for him?” Sonia was laughing.
“It’s an experiment, Sonia. A surprise. Can you do it?” Neal took the bags she handed him.
“Of course, bubbalah. You’ll haff a waist Sophia Loren would envy. But are you sure you want to do that?” Sonia gestured with her head, towards the fitting room. “That one looks like a big macher, dangerous too - he takes no prisoners. Not like your little friend with the glasses. He was here last week – wanted something ‘special’ for someone. I first thought it might haff been for you, but the size was wrong.”
“Moz? No – we’re not like that.”
“Ahh…gut. He looks like he needs someone a bit less – how do you young people put it – less high maintenance than you are.”
Neal laughed – he hadn’t ever really thought of himself like that, but the description certainly fit. “Mozzie needs someone a bit more grounded in reality. I’ll have to ask him who the scanties were for.”
“Don’t mamelah – He’ll tell you when he wants to. Let the boy haff his secrets.”
Peter and Elizabeth came out just in time to hear Sonia say ‘secrets.’ Peter rolled his eyes, not wanting to get involved. Neal ignored him.
Elizabeth gave Sonia a tight hug. “Thank you.”
“You welcome, shainkeit. Come back next week and we’ll do the fittings. My seamstress will be in on Tuesday.” Sonia looked at Neal, who nodded back, ever so slightly.
Peter looked from Neal to the old woman to Elizabeth. He had the feeling he was missing something vital here, and he wondered if he should be worried.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodan Rating: NC-17 (See W/E/T)
Fandom: White Collar, no spoilers
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey / Peter Burke / Elizabeth Burke, P/E/N - OT3
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Public Sex in Secret, Double Penetration, Boy!Kissing, Girl!Come!Play
Word Count: ~3800
Summary: It’s all about the underwear, this time. (You Asked For It - You Got It)
For
kink_bingo, Double Penetration Square. Unbeta’d and thus probably full of errors. Comments and criticisms are loved and adored.
__________________________________
“Wait a second…we were talking about underwear. I want to hear about the underwear.” It was Peter’s turn to whine.
“Tell you what, big boy. When we get to La Perla, we’ll call you back. Their dressing rooms are big enough for two, so Elizabeth will give me a private show.
From Retail Therapy I – The Perfect Pair of Shoes
__________________________________
“Let me take those.” Neal reached for the bags Elizabeth was carrying. “This is why you brought me along.”
“Yes.” Her smile was one of pure joy. “And to drive my husband crazy.”
Neal grinned back at her. “Sometimes, I think that’s what I do best.”
“Oh, honey…” She kept her smile bright, but Elizabeth wondered if Neal really understood his true worth to them. He had become, in such a short time, the bright golden center of their little universe. It still had the power to surprise and wound her when she saw just how little Neal valued himself and his gifts. His devotion and his complete and utter loyalty were as precious to her as the bone-deep love she shared with Peter.
“Do you still want to go lingerie shopping?”
“Of course… Don’t you think that Peter deserves a reward for what we did to him today?”
“I like the way your mind works, Elizabeth. Phone sex with your husband, while he’s stuck in an office fishbowl earns him sexy, frilly bits.”
“And maybe more phone sex.”
“I thought the phone sex was the punishment, not the reward.”
“Hmmm - I don’t know. Sex is sex...it’s not supposed to be about punishment. Unless you’re a sadist and punishment is sex.”
“Elizabeth - you aren’t making any sense.”
She reach up and kissed him. “I don’t care. I want lingerie to match my new shoes.”
“You know, I do have an alternative to La Perla.” Neal licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. El wasn’t sure what that expression was – but it looked like a combination of “admire my brilliance” and “I’m nervous.”
“You have an alternative to the finest, sexiest Italian lingerie store in the City?”
“Well, that’s the thing – it’s not. Not exactly THE sexiest, the finest.”
Elizabeth tapped her foot, radiating skepticism.
“A couple of years ago, I helped out a friend. She was looking for investors and I needed a place to put some money.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do I really want to know about your money laundering schemes?”
“No, no. Nothing illegal. Sonia needed some start up capital and I was in a position to help her.”
“Sonia?” Elizabeth was both curious and a little jealous. She had visions of a six foot tall blonde Swedish supermodel. Neal may have been utterly devoted to Kate, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his flirts.
Neal didn’t say anything more as he flagged a cab. The address he gave was on Mercer Street, in the heart of SoHo. He took a few minutes and sent an email or text, presumably to this Sonia person and then just sat back, put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders and toyed with the nape of her neck. The light stroking drove her a little bit crazy, but she wouldn’t have him stop for the world. He watched her carefully, silently, a cat-like smile on his lips. He was up to something and she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
Peter finally calmed down. Or at least his dick finally calmed down enough that he could get up and leave the office without being thoroughly embarrassed. Neal had spent at least ten more minutes lovingly telling him about the shoes that El was trying on, how they slid onto her feet (he had at least a dozen different ways to describe the way her toes pointed, her instep arched, her calves flexed). Peter really didn’t have a shoe fetish (or he didn’t have one until now), he just went insane over El’s toe cleavage. And now that Neal knew, he was in deep, deep trouble.
It was close to three and neither El nor Neal had called him. Peter was both annoyed and a little relieved they forgot the promise to call him when they got to the bra and panty store – he wasn’t sure he’d survive another session of phone sex, but he still wanted to hear about the underwear.
He flipped through a few files, checked for email, and checked his voice mail. Got updates on the active cases from Diana and Jones and stewed. At this point, there was just no way was he going to get any more work done the rest of the day. He was going to go home, feed and walk the dog, and meet El and Neal at Neal’s apartment. He needed to see the shoes. He needed to see the lingerie. He was a man with simple needs that could easily be met. There would, of course, be fucking along with the seeing of the shoes and the lingerie. That went without saying.
Then Peter had a brainstorm, he would get his revenge.
The store owned by Neal’s friend turned out to be a very discrete second floor venue, classy and rarified, decorated in muted sea-toned velvets and silks. El was certain now that Sonia was a Swedish supermodel, six feet tall with tiny breasts and natural blond hair, and when she jogged, nothing giggled.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Neal called the woman who came bustling out of the back of the store “bubbah” and she pinched his cheek and berated him in … Yiddish?
Sonia Millstein, as Neal introduced her, was barely five feet tall and looked like every Jewish grandmother she had ever met, if every Jewish grandmother spritzed herself in Arpège, wore vintage Chanel suits, Harry Winston diamonds and cat’s-eye glasses. Elizabeth was charmed.
Those eyes, behind the old-fashion glasses missed nothing, including the rings on Elizabeth’s finger. “You’re not Neal’s girlfriend.” Her face was set, serious.
Elizabeth didn’t have a clue how Neal was going to define their relationship. He was so good at compartmentalizing his life, and she tried to steal herself against the potential hurt of denial or lies. But Neal shocked her once again, and he simply said. “Elizabeth and her husband are my lovers.” He held himself still, straight, his gaze unwavering, prepared for a body blow of censure, of revulsion.
Sonia stared first at Neal, then at Elizabeth and she could see how the older woman was weighing and measuring her on some set of moral scales. “You loff him?”
“Yes.” No equivocation.
“You loff your husband?”
“Absolutely.”
“You haff a big heart, shainkeit.”
The little woman turned to Neal. “So - It’s not just the schtupping, eh?”
Neal grinned and hugged her, “No, bubbeh, it’s not just the schtupping.”
With that, Sonia became all business. They showed her the shoes, which elicited quite a bit of oohing and ahhing and compliments on both their tastes. They were ushered into a fitting room about the size of her guest room and Sonia commanded her to strip.
Elizabeth watched Neal watch her as Sonia measured her, top to bottom and all the places in-between. Neal’s gaze was, as always, admiring and she fought to keep her arousal in check. This must be how Peter felt when we were tag-teaming him from Barney’s.
It was a little warm in the room, which Elizabeth appreciated, being nearly naked. Sonia removed her jacket and Elizabeth’s eye caught something on the old woman’s left forearm. A tattoo, in faded blue ink, six numbers and the letter “A”. Her heart broke and she must have made a noise, because Sonia looked up from her notes.
“Yes, yes. I know.” Sonia pinched Elizabeth’s chin and forced her eyes up. “This is why you must luff when and where you can. It can be taken from you without pity, without mercy.”
Elizabeth swallowed and blinked against her tears and bowed her head, pressing a kiss into the marks. Sonia patted her cheek and whispered something that Elizabeth didn’t understand. She handed Elizabeth a silk robe and bustled out of the fitting room.
“Are you okay?” Neal’s quiet voice startled her, and she went to him and he held her on his lap, stroking her back. Someday, not today, she was going to get the full story from him. They sat in companionable silence until Sonia came back, laden with boxes of what looked to be the most lavishly decorated bits of silk and satin and lace she had ever seen.
“Pick what you like and we’ll do the fittings. Haff fun and let me know if you need anything.” Sonia smiled at the lovers and tapped a finger against the side of her nose. “I am nothing if not discreet.” She closed the door behind her.
Peter checked and rechecked Neal’s location. La Perla was on Greene Street, but his tracker was coming back as exactly one block east, on Mercer. He confirmed the accuracy with the EMU and decided to head there first.
The app on his phone verified Neal’s location and Peter considered the empty parking spot a sign of good fortune. There was no storefront, but the name on the door, La Serenissima, in elegant gold script made him laugh. Of course he would take El to Venice, but at least there wasn’t a strong awning for Neal to jump onto.
A door was opened on the second floor and Peter wandered into an undersea paradise, but he was confused. Not a bra or pair of panties, or a single piece of lacy something-under to be seen. These kind of rarified, elegant shops made him nervous - it was like going to a restaurant where the menus didn’t have prices. He was in the right place, but calling out for his wife and lover was out of the question.
“Shit.” He would text Neal and tell him to get his ass out here.
“Can I help you?” The voice was right behind him, and a foot below his shoulder. A small, well-dressed old woman was standing there, with a look of knowing curiosity in her sharp, twinkling eyes.
Peter nearly jumped out of his skin – he didn’t hear anyone enter the room. “Ummm. Yes – ahhh – I’m looking for…”
She gently took hold of his left hand, examined his wedding ring and said “They’re in the back, second door on your left.”
When his heart started beating again, he followed her instructions and found his wife and his lover, just as he hoped to. He listened at the door and peeked through the slats.
“I think I prefer the ivory with the pink trim. It goes better with your coloring. The black is too harsh, too banal.” Neal was sitting on a chair, watching his wife model an extremely fetching set of lingerie.
“You had no problems with the black and red outfit a few months ago.” Elizabeth teased as she pranced around the room in a credible imitation of a runway model.
“It went with the hat. And I think you wanted to be sleazy.” They both laughed, and it seemed the perfect cue for his entrance as the angry husband.
“You said you were going to call me when you got to La Perla.” It was gratifying to see both of them jump.
Neal tipped his head back in challenge. “We didn’t go to La Perla, so technically…”
“Screw the technicalities, Neal. I’m not a toy that you can just wind up and walk away from.”
The three of them stood there, the room charged with tension.
Peter was having a hard time playing at angry, not because he wasn’t – but because he could see the struggle in Neal’s face. He knew how much Neal worried about pushing him too far, taking their games beyond the boundaries that Peter needed to respect, and Peter sometimes took pleasure in using that fear.
“I’m sorry.” Neal tried to infuse as much regret into those words as he could, and Peter laughed at himself. Neal was incorrigible and what he was about to do would only encourage him more.
“I am too.” Elizabeth chimed in, biting her lip. “We sort of got carried away and well…” Her voice drifted off in response to Peter’s rather unnerving stare.
“I thought about waiting until you got home to punish you…” Peter paused, seemingly for effect. “Then I thought – why?” He shrugged off his jacket, but left his holster on and his hands moved to his belt, toying with the buckle.
Of the two of them, Elizabeth seemed more nervous – and more visibly excited. She knotted her hands in front of her and crossed her legs, clenching her thighs.
“El – I think you just ruined those panties, and you haven’t even paid for them yet.” Peter smirked at her.
She blushed, bright red.
“Have you ever told Neal about your favorite kink?” Peter’s voice was harsh, and she shook her head, blushing even more furiously. Peter moved to stand behind his wife, one arm around her waist, the other toying with the tops of her breasts, then pushing her hair out of the way. Keeping his eyes on Neal, he pressed biting kisses against Elizabeth’s neck and shoulder.
“Tell him, sweetheart. Tell Neal what you would like me to do to you.” Peter bit down hard, and Elizabeth moaned. “Tell him.”
“I want to have sex with Peter in public places.” She whined as Peter pinched her nipple through the lace. “I’d like to have secret sex in public places.”
Peter showed his wife a little mercy. “We’ve never actually done it, but El’s kept me entertained with her fantasies of getting fucked on the M4 uptown bus.”
Neal blinked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Elizabeth Burke, you are a dirty, nasty girl.”
She writhed against Peter, who kept worrying at her nipple. “What do you have to say to that, El?”
“Yessss. I am a dirty, dirty girl.”
Peter watched Neal stroke himself through his pants. “It turns you on, Neal doesn’t it? The thought of being discovered. The risk someone walking in on you while your fucking.”
“Peter – I think it turns you on even more. You’re the one who didn’t hang up the phone this afternoon. Sitting in your office, no blinds...did you touch yourself?” Neal, apparently, wasn’t going to give Peter an inch, metaphorically speaking.
Peter growled and turned his attention back to his wife, who was rubbing her ass against him. He rolled the lace and satin panties down over her hips and as they landed around the pair of ridiculously sexy pink satin shoes (he tried hard to ignore the bit of toe cleavage), he couldn’t help but notice that the panties were, in fact, ruined.
“Neal – you’re not getting away scott-free. Come here.” Neal obeyed and Peter grinned. When it came to sex, the man was all about compliance.
“Peter – I don’t think anything we do in this room is going to qualify as punishment. We are all going to enjoy ourselves far too much.”
“Hmmm, you’re right. We’ll save the punishment for later. I’ve got some new toys at home.” Peter chuckled to himself…as if anything involving a toy would actually be considered real punishment.
Neal read his mind, it wasn’t hard. “Basically, Peter – it’s any excuse for you to top me.”
“Yeah, pretty much. And I don’t need an excuse, do I?” Neal leaned over El’s shoulder and planted a kiss on Peter’s smiling lips. “What do you want me to do?”
Elizabeth tried to take the decision out of both their hands and started to fumble with Neal’s fly, but Peter captured her hands. “Un huh, this is my show now. Neal, on your knees.”
The word play gave them all a laugh, which was cut short as Neal held Elizabeth’s hips and began to plant soft, teasing kisses on her belly, just at the edge of the corset, then licking and biting ones across the top of her mons, then tangling his fingers in the neatly trimmed and damp curls. She trembled in Peter’s arms as Neal bit lightly at the sweet spot just above her slit. She hissed as his fingers teased around and around her clit, and then taking small, lightening quick dips into her vagina.
Another set of fingers, harder, blunter joined, with Neal’s, collecting and spreading her thick moisture around her little pink anus, working it around and around until she was a mass of slick, shaking nerves. Peter carefully worked his index finger into her ass. El was no stranger to sodomy, but the first forays were always taken slowly.
Neal added a second finger and then a third, plunging into her cunt as Peter was pulling out of her ass, their movement in perfect synchronization. Elizabeth started to pull and tug at her nipples, squeezing them hard through the lacy cups, her long nails snagging on the material.
El was getting noisy, and Peter really didn’t want that strange little old lady overhearing them, so he covered her mouth with his other hand, not minding that she bit down, stifling her cries. They continued to work her with their hands. Neal was biting and sucking hard at her clit, thrusting into her tight wetness without any rhythm. Peter just held her impaled on a single digit, whispering in her ear.
“You’re a dirty, filthy girl, aren’t you, Elizabeth Burke. You like having two men finger you, fuck you with just their hands.” He nipped her earlobe, and she bit down harder on his hand. “You’re so wet, so hot – it’s like a river between your thighs. When you come, you’re going to drown Neal.”
Neal jammed a thumb hard against her clit and Elizabeth came, sweating and shaking.
Holding her upright through her orgasm, Peter then lowered her gently to the floor and knelt beside her. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He tenderly brushed the damp curls from her forehead.
“Give me a minute, you beasts.” She grinned at him and then at Neal, a tired but salacious smile. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Neal, ever cheeky, replied “In more ways than one.” He took out his handkerchief and started to clean Elizabeth up. Peter watched in approval and when he was done, put a heavy hand on the back of Neal’s neck and drew him close.
“Got to clean you up too.” Peter proceeded to lick El’s silver off of Neal’s face, finished at his lips. They kissed as they always did, with tongues and teeth and a small element of combat, until his wife reached up and pulled their faces down to her so she could join in. Peter lost track of time as the three of them lay on the dressing room floor, just kissing. He finally broke away from their devouring mouths and looked Neal over, whose cock a hugely obscene bulge. He licked his lips, but some sense of propriety prevailed.
“We’ve got to stop.” Neal grabbed his tie and pulled him close, but Peter resisted. “Do you think the old lady’s been listening at the door?”
Neal let go. “Sonia – nah. She wouldn’t do that. She’ll just watch the tapes of us after we leave.”
“Whaaat!” Peter jumped up and started looking around for hidden cameras.
“Calm down, Peter. Neal’s only joking.” Elizabeth looked at Neal. “You are only joking?”
Neal just wagged his brows and smiled. Peter gave him the scary bad-cop look and Neal relented. “No, Sonia doesn’t have any cameras or audio equipment in the dressing rooms. That would be unprofessional.”
Peter gave his wife a hand and pulled her to her feet. Neal just sat on the floor admiring the view as Elizabeth removed the now ruined corset and slid out of the Louboutins. She handed him the lingerie. “Do you think this can be fixed?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. Neal finally stood up, retrieved the panties El had been wearing when Peter arrived and the other items that she wanted to purchase. “I’ll settle this up with Sonia and meet you upfront.”
Peter watched as Neal kissed his wife, hard and quick. He felt that he should make some token protest. “You’re not buying my wife lingerie.”
El gave him The Look. “Peter Burke– if you know what’s good for, you’ll keep your mouth shut.” He did.
By the time El finished dressing, Peter was presentable to the public again. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to suffer from a perpetual case of blue balls whenever Elizabeth and Neal got together.
“So, you want a corset? Your boyfriend wants you to dress up for him?” Sonia was laughing.
“It’s an experiment, Sonia. A surprise. Can you do it?” Neal took the bags she handed him.
“Of course, bubbalah. You’ll haff a waist Sophia Loren would envy. But are you sure you want to do that?” Sonia gestured with her head, towards the fitting room. “That one looks like a big macher, dangerous too - he takes no prisoners. Not like your little friend with the glasses. He was here last week – wanted something ‘special’ for someone. I first thought it might haff been for you, but the size was wrong.”
“Moz? No – we’re not like that.”
“Ahh…gut. He looks like he needs someone a bit less – how do you young people put it – less high maintenance than you are.”
Neal laughed – he hadn’t ever really thought of himself like that, but the description certainly fit. “Mozzie needs someone a bit more grounded in reality. I’ll have to ask him who the scanties were for.”
“Don’t mamelah – He’ll tell you when he wants to. Let the boy haff his secrets.”
Peter and Elizabeth came out just in time to hear Sonia say ‘secrets.’ Peter rolled his eyes, not wanting to get involved. Neal ignored him.
Elizabeth gave Sonia a tight hug. “Thank you.”
“You welcome, shainkeit. Come back next week and we’ll do the fittings. My seamstress will be in on Tuesday.” Sonia looked at Neal, who nodded back, ever so slightly.
Peter looked from Neal to the old woman to Elizabeth. He had the feeling he was missing something vital here, and he wondered if he should be worried.
