THE PASSAGE FROM DECADENCE TEASER – For My Book Voyeurist Group & Forum…

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THE SMOKING GLASS LIT BAR


 

The Passage From Decadence * Collection & Compilation….


JZAVORIS LUCIANO https://www.amazon.com/dp/107417898X/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_ybQkDbA6MWA8D


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Passage From Decadence * Collection & Compilation


One│ DINNER FOR TWO DECADENCES FOR THREE


recollect, rather vividly, Stella’s rendition of a warm spring night in Atlanta, Georgia a few years ago, when the two (she and Bart) met for dinner: and a simple evening of sensual pleasure. This event happened about four to six weeks after their initial encounter. Though, they were dating in full swing, by then (dinner out every night). Looking back, I believe the couple was captured early in the evening’s mystical appeal because it seemed as if it were one of those nights when the full moon hung in the sky pregnant with, shall we say… possibilities. As the pair excitedly met for dinner on the patio of Maggiano’s, the air was perfumed with a strange ambiance and beguiling allure.


Stella wondered if the allure was the heated magnetism between Bart and herself, or the stellar sensual disposition of the man sitting across from her. Bart was like no one she had ever met before. In her mind’s eye the gentleman would be like no man she would ever afford herself the chance to meet again (so she thought), there was this something Bart had that sent Stella into orbit every time he stared deeply into her eyes, but what could it have been she often wondered silently to herself. Girl…skills!


Financially and professionally, Bart was successful, smart, and funny all done with an I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude that she could simply not resist or deny. Plus, Mr. Bart’s wealth and tenacity seduced the “Iron Duchess” (Stella)—in a manner that melted the ice around her cold…cold…heart. He teased her with the promise of things to come, and she could not help but go wherever he led her. It is, perhaps, this attraction that led her down that perilous road. It started with a damn phone call…


Looking at Stella wickedly, Bart casually suggested that he call one of his “associates” to join them for the evening’s festivities. Stella was shocked by the offer but took the challenge on with panache. Never let it be said, that our girl ever backed down from a dare from any man. Bart wanted and needed to ruffle her feathers just a bit. He wanted her vulnerable, weakened, but most of all…he needed her to submit. Yet, on his terms. Boy…you’re about to learn a lesson, and don’t even know it! Stella-Ann is a shit-storm poised to happen, at all times.


“An associate, hm? Male or female?” she inquired coolly.
“Oh, female…she and I go way back,” he replied, watching her.
“Do what you like. I, or rather we, could stand for a little decadence this evening.” Stella took a sip of merlot to hide her nervousness.
Bart responded by pulling out his cell phone and dialing the number that would change everything. It was a call to Julia with an invitation to come out to the dance; it was, of course, the waltz into a world of unspeakable decadence.


I am sure that Stella now wonders with bewilderment, what in the hell was I thinking? Yet her curiosity got the best of that analytical mind of hers. She had to know if Bart, this object of her perfection an obsession, would go through with this, and, if so, in what manner would he conduct himself? She also needed to know to what depths she could go, in the name of desire and adventure. What dangerous games pleasure seekers often play in the name of sensuality, when matters of the heart are at stake.


Well, Miss Julia was all too willing to come out and play with our thrill seekers. As the two titans finished the last of the wine, Bart signaled for the check.


Stella applied her lipstick as he pulled out his wallet to pay for dinner. She noticed his look of displeasure and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Bart, with his usual charm, smiled and told her that he had forgotten his American Express Black card. “Baby, can you get it this time? I’ll take care of you later,” he said, still smiling. Whether he would honor it or not…Stella didn’t appreciate it; however, she never allowed it to show on her face.


Stella pulled out her own Amex, and wondered if this was a sign, but pushed it out of her mind. She was an analytical woman…she had no time for such foolishness but was gracious not to allow her discernment to disrupt the projectury of the evening. Moreover, instinctively she could realize the prognosis, yet she chose to ignore it…at least for that place in time.


With their tab paid the two were well underway, with Julia in route. As the car sped along the highway, Stella began to wonder what this Julia person would look like. She hoped that she would be a person of class and not some common “hood rat”. The term made her smile.


A very curious frown appeared on Bart’s face…


“Okay…okay…tell me what is so funny to you? I will give you a hundred bucks for that thought…betcha I know what it is.”
“Oh, I’m just looking forward to our evening,” she said sweetly.
“Really?” He said, clearly not believing her in the least.
“Of course,” she replied cynically. The look in her eyes said so much, but men are nieve creatures at times.


That boy did not get the memo. He was now a child at Christmas, almost. Typical alpha-male.


Bart smiled, yet said nothing more. He would see how much she was looking forward to this evening when they arrived at the hotel, affording Stella the opportunity to fully scrutinize her competition of the night (careful Bart…be very careful).


The gentleman grew ever impatient, wondering what such an analytical mind like Stella’s would conclude about Ms. Julia. He could not restrain the smirk from emerging upon his face. One would guess, from a male perspective, his balls were growing to the size of watermelons–in retrospect, that has to be a guy thing.


The imperiled couple turned off the highway and drove to an upscale yet discreet hotel off the beaten path (the St. Regis, of course); waiting in the parking lot on this cool and enigmatic night rather impatiently for Julia to arrive were Bart and Stella. It did not take long, at all; she pulled up behind Bart’s BMW a few minutes later. Everyone got out of their respective vehicles, and introductions were made.


Between Julia and Stella, there was an instant and blatant disdain for one another. This disdain had nothing, whatsoever, to do with the gentleman at the center of all the excitement and intrigue.


The disdain was toward each other for not knowing their prospective place. “Bitches” …
Stella looked at Julia with mild disdain…ok unadulterated disdain, for a reason. The girl was a little ghetto, which surprised Stella a bit. Tall, thin (typical of Bart’s girls), she apparently tried to buy class with designer trappings. She was pretty, in an average way, with shoulder-length hair and big brownish-green eyes. Stella realized that Julia had a certain animal appeal that any man would respond to, something about her that begged to be fucked, and she worked it for all it was worth. Stella realized, at that moment, that she was in trouble. At Least, from a primitive and lustful prospective.


As for Julia, her hatred of Stella came from a place deep inside her that made her acknowledge that no matter how many high-end trinkets and things she purchased, she would never measure up to this woman. All she possessed, from a competitive perspective was her sexuality and youth (that was fading fast): which she would play to the fullest. I really do not believe Julia understood the cold alabaster stone of a woman she was dealing with. Stella-Ann’s Ex was half Italian. That family taught her everything she needed to know about revenge and survival! Especially Uncle Antonio and Uncle Pauly. No shit…his name was Pauly!


The trio made their way to the quaint room that Bart had called ahead and reserved. They wasted no time in getting their quest underway. The women made themselves comfortable by disrobing in a most provocative way to entice the man before them. With each piece of clothing, Stella dropped to floor served as a tempest and catalyst—raising her angst and ire to it’s a vertical limit! In hindsight, she needs to feel that sting of the night…not the sweet primal kiss of it. That bitch was pissed as hell, but you could hardly see it.


Teasers…Teasers…Teasers! I Could Not Help, But Provide You Guys With A Special Glimpse into “THE PASSAGE FROM DECADENCE COLLECTION!” We Are So Excited…Just A Few More Days Y’all…


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