<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/HarlequinMask.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>Harlequin, Security</em></span></span><br/><strong>Where: </strong>The patio --> Locker room --> The patio<br/><strong>When: </strong>Thursday, shortly after dinner, week 1<br/><strong>Who: </strong>Duchesse<br/><strong>Status: </strong>Closed<br/><hr/><div style="text-align: justify;">Peter told himself that the reason he followed Duchesse and the gentleman with her out onto the patio was for professional reasons. Duchesse had that air about her, Peter could tell - that air that said she wasn't really interested in companionship at the moment - at least not with the gentleman who seemed insistent on enticing her. Being part of the security team, Peter felt it his duty to follow, to make sure that the man did not overstep his manners, which men especially sometimes did in such a place. Despite the hedonism and debauchery that took place here almost every minute of almost every day, one rule always remained in place: it would always be consensual, and trying to 'push' someone into action wasn't often tolerated or forgiven.<br/><br/>Especially if the target of one's affections was the owner of the place, Duchesse.<br/><br/>Following behind them far enough not to hear very clearly, but close enough to keep them in sight, Duchesse and her would-be suitor reached the patio where she spoke to him her French, her accent sending tingles down Peter's spine. Whatever she said finally seemed to get through to the man as he paused for a moment - that moment Peter knew the man was pondering his very near future - and then he politely nodded and turned away. Smart move, Peter thought. It was so much better to take rejection and so seek out other prey than to be tossed out on your ass, he silently observed. Especially when there were so many other sweet options available throughout the building. Peter had confidence the man would be balls-deep within some willing partner soon enough - it just wouldn't be Duchesse who would be offering it to him.<br/><br/>The man walked past Peter, barely acknowledging him as he moved on by. Seeing Duchesse alone, that should have been the end of it, Peter realized. He had mentally justified following the owner out onto the patio by thinking he was 'protecting' her... but now, as he stood in the few shadows of the doorway before the patio, he knew it was more than that.<br/><br/>She was a glorious specimen, whom he had desired himself since his first day on he job. She was also aloof, and very choosy in whom she let touch her body. Working security had been a sort of -torture-, for Peter, watching all of the events going on for hours each day, unable to initiate contact while he was 'on duty'. He glanced down at his watch, realizing that his 'duty' for that day, in fact, would be over in less than a quarter hour.<br/><br/>His eyes settled on Duchesse as he watched her, and his attention was fully on her when the black robe slipped from her body. For a woman in her forties, she looked like a never-aging goddess, more enticing than any other woman he had seen to date. What was she like in her twenties, he imagined? And his mind decided that she looked just as she did now. Lightly tanned with perfect skin, and the ache in his loins that suddenly bloomed told him that her curves were perfect. Peter watched from the shadows as she moved to one of the reclining lounge chairs and sat down, leaning back, one of her legs still resting over the edge, foot on the ground, the other extended along the foot of the lounge chair itself.<br/><br/>And angle was perfect, almost as if she had intended to give him a peek at what lie at the apex of her thighs. She was nearly bare there, save for the slender wisp of hair that ran vertically from the edge of her folds upward a few inches. The ache between his legs intensified - he absolutely loved how she 'groomed' herself there, yet another reason he was so drawn to her. She raised an arm up over her head to relax, while her other moved downward... Peter licked his lips as her hand glided over her perfectly sculpted body, his own hands envious as her hand slid past her bellybutton and onward further. <br/><br/>Watching her fingers descend upon her sex made his breath catch in his throat. Her fingers moved in that feminine way that a man could never truly imitate, and after a few gracefully light passes of her fingers, her middle finger penetrated her silken lips, stroking upward toward where her clit waited for obvious attention.<br/><br/>Her eyes were closed (or so he thought), as he took a small step forward without realizing it, eager to be closer, eager to watch, desiring a front-row seat to witness this woman touch herself. As such, if she opened her eyes and looked his way, she'd clearly see him now, and there would be no doubt that he watched on as gently, her index and ring fingers gently spread her sex lips apart, giving her middle finger easier access to the treasures that lie beneath. He could see it clearly now, watching her tease her pearl slowly, then moments later sliding down as if to ensure her opening was ready for penetration... then slowly sliding back up again. She moaned softly - and in answer, his cock throbbed in his pants, solid and eager. Her back arched slightly, and Peter finally took in a breath, hoping she hadn't heard the near-gasp from his lips in the doing.<br/><br/>Watching her do this was even worse torture than usual... there were so many ways he might please her, but she had already dismissed one potential suitor... perhaps she simply wanted to enjoy self-pleasure for now? But as she worked herself more and more toward pleasure... that desire could -very- well change, her needs and hunger evolving into desires of a different kind quite easily.<br/><br/>And if that happened, he wanted to be ready.<br/><br/>Peter glanced at his watch... three minutes until the end of his shift. ~Fuck this!~ he mentally growled to himself, as he gave Duchesse one last look as her fingers slowly worked, and then forced himself to turn and nearly -run- back toward the main room and directly toward the locker room. Gratefully, he saw the next security shift already in place, so his presence would not be missed. Inside the locker room he moved quickly, as if his very clothing was on fire, pulling off the white dress shirt, black pants - everything - and stuffed them into his locker. Nude, his manhood standing at attention like the mast of a ship, he donned the black robe - and most importantly, the mask meant only for him. Then securing his locker, he turned and retraced his steps back out to the patio...<br/><br/>And silently cursed himself when he arrived.<br/><br/>Duchesse was still alone, thankfully, but she now lay on the lounge seat face down, both ends of the chair level with the ground now as she relaxed, her hands folded beneath her cheek like small pillows. He had missed it, missed her glorious ending... and the chance to be the one to help her reach it.<br/><br/>His ardour somewhat doused for the moment, he knew that not all hope was lost. If given the chance, he was confident he could bring her to that point again. He found that his feet weren't moving so confidently, though, and he knew why - she was an older woman, and she was also the owner, a woman of position and status here, and though that lured him in like a moth to a flame, it also meant she had power over him... something he most certainly was not used to.<br/><br/>Still... he approached, hoping he would not meet the same fate as the previous man.<br/><br/>"Good evening, my lady," he said softly, politely, as he approached her, hoping he hadn't woken her from a light nap or intruded upon her day-dreams. "Would you care for some company? Perhaps a massage, since you seem almost prepared for one?" he added playfully, a smile on his lips.</div>