Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Meeting Frosty

Chapter One

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Jeff stood by the balustrade on the terrace. The dying sun had given Venus life. It burned white hot above the dark sea. At this remove, the jewel bright stars gave no hint of the galactic war.

A colonel now, Jeff Carson was on leave from star command. He wore a midnight black tuxedo. Tall and muscular, the 38-year-old had a bister crew cut. His handsome face was clean-shaved.

He stood in the warm night with a cold bottle of beer. Condensate had made the bottle’s amber exterior moist. Watching the sea caress the beach at the bluff’s base, he was lightly assailed by the soiree’s sounds. They came mainly from the ballroom adjoining the terrace.

Sliding glass doors separated that room and its porch. The size of the doors was that of picture windows. Mauve curtains hid the party from Jeff’s view. Within, male guests like himself were attired as he was. Jeff heard gay amused cries from the female guests. Returning from rooms in the chalet where they had secluded themselves, the ladies were in dishabille.

Each would now be collared by her lover or husband. To the pink leather collar topaz jewels could be attached. Each crystalline jewel was hand carved. Though their hues varied, the design for each was the same. It was that of the male reproductive organs. The topaz penis was erect.

The night’s affair was a prostitution party. Jeff had purchased a handful of jewel dicks from the soiree’s hostess. To couple with a female guest, he was to pay her. This was accomplished by attaching a topaz penis to her collar. The ladies would compete to collect the most dicks, in the widest varieties of radiant colors.

The war’s demands had left Jeff unattached. He was without a wife or lover to donate to the sex fest. Buying the dicks for the party’s charitable purpose, he’d departed for the porch. Its luxurious furnishings, lit by flambeaus, were paired with oval nightstands. Atop the stands were coital supplies. These included colored condoms, flavored lubricants, vibrators, and dildos. Vases of flowers lent grace to the frank displays. The vases, some of which were antiques, stood upon carved waist-high pillars of marble. The terrace’s floor was surfaced with the same stone.

Jeff’s groin bulged with expectation. He hadn’t had a female for some time. Duchess Elayor, hostess of tonight’s event, had assured him he wouldn’t be out of place. It was she who’d explained to Jeff the planned proceedings.

“That makes me some sort of stud,” the colonel had objected. “Fucking mens’ wives in their face.” He was not yet in agreement with his loins’ intent. Frustrated, Jeff set his beer aside on a pillar.

The ballroom’s curtains were displaced by a man. A tuxedo clad servant, his uniform white, he was joined by a second servant. That man opened the glass door and its screen for a woman.

It was the duchess. Aged 60, the woman remained as elegant as her ancient seaside chateau. Her grey-streaked hair was in a bouffant. Conventional jewelry glittered upon her. She wore a black decollete gown of kid leather. It sheathed her once mouth-watering curves. Her gown, slit to her waist on both sides, gave ample view of her dominant’s boots. These were black kid leather with spiked heels.

A girl accompanied the duchess. Venus bare, but stockinged and gloved, bow-adorned and in pumps, the teen clutched a bunny. It was a comfort toy. White as her outfit, and wriggly revealed charms, the rabbit had long erect ears. Their faux interiors were pink satin.

The girl’s sapphire eyes met Jeff’s.