Joanie Goes to Europe

"You have no idea how thin the ice is that you're skating on. Tomorrow night I can make you rich, or I can ruin you. It's up to me."

The rest of the taxi ride was silent. No one spoke a word. Odessa was beginning to look at me in awe and admiration. Philip was scared stiff. Steve was just along for the ride.

Finally, Odessa spoke. "Joanie, you looked drop dead gorgeous in the gown you have, and sexy too. Why is it wrong?"

I said, "You'll understand when you see the new one I'm getting."

When we got to Lanvin I spoke to the woman, and I did so in French so the others would not understand. I explained it was an emergency, I was going to a formal affair tonight, but the dress I had brought, which was also by Lanvin, was all wrong. I pointed to it, since they had it on a mannequin.

I explained I love the dress, but I need one that makes me look hyper sexy but completely unavailable. Not just the opposite of cheap, which could send the signal that I might be available at the right price, but simply not at all available. Unassailable. Out of reach, yet sexy. The men have to want me desperately, but know they cannot have me.

Explaining all this taxed my French ability to the limit, but the saleswoman nodded. She complemented me on my French, too. But she answered me in near perfect, British-accented English. She said, "Let me think." Then she went into the back of the store, leaving us there.

She returned with three dresses and led me to a changing room. All of them were perfect for what I wanted. Boy, this woman was good. I chose one that was the most amazing shade of green in the most velvety fabric that ever existed, I'm sure.

The fabric was thin, you could almost see through it, making the dress light, almost floating. It had a bit of stretch to it, and consequently it hugged my body perfectly emphasizing every womanly curve I had. It clung to my breasts, separating them and outlining them exquisitely. It caressed my ass. I could not have worn it had I not had a perfect body. An advantage of being young, I thought.

No skin showed. None. It had a high neck that rose almost to my chin, long sleeves, and went down to the floor. But you could see my bra and my panties through the fabric.

The saleswoman said, "Try it on again with no underwear." I did. Oh My God this dress was perfect. My nipples slightly poked at the fabric, giving a hint of them, and more than a hint when they were hard. There were no lines anywhere. My boobs were outlined perfectly. The dress came in and clung to both my midriff and my waist and then clung gracefully to my hips.

There was a small dark spot where my mound was, due to my artistically trimmed pubic hair. In the three-way mirror I saw that my ass was outlined perfectly, as it clung to both cheeks, and went in just a bit at my crack. It was better than being naked—it was sexier than nudity.

The woman said, "I like the dark spot. It makes you even sexier. But if you want not to have it, I'm afraid you will have to wax away the hair, or to shave down there."

I told her thanks, it's perfect. Does it need alterations? She said no that remarkably it fits me perfectly. She pointed out that the absence of the need for alteration is indeed a rare event. I thanked her. "It's perfect. I'll take it."

We left the dressing area to meet the others. When they saw me in the dress they all gasped. Odessa said, "Now I understand! Joanie you are brilliant."

Philip simply stared, and Steve said, "My God, Joanie, that dress was made for you. You look beautiful, stunning!"

Philip was staring at the dark spot caused by my mound. He licked his lips. He said, "Wow," very quietly.

I never asked the price of the dress, I just told Philip to pay. He told me later the dress cost almost $8,000. The saleswoman wrapped up the dress, and Philip and I grabbed a cab and raced back to the hotel. We left Steve and Odessa in Lanvin and the saleswoman went to work finding the perfect dress for Odessa, with the same conditions as I had gave her for me.

I went to our room, went on line and worked frantically at my computer until it was time for my blow dry. I took a break for it, and then had room service back in the room while I continued to work frantically. I studied up on the biggest fish's golden gooses (he had several), and then used all my skills, all my magic, to hack into his personal computer.

The man had left it turned on, and on line, in his hotel room, on a not very secure network. It was as id he were doing me a favor. It still wasn't easy, but it was doable. It took me a long time, but eventually I got in.

I learned his inner most secrets, his wants and desires, and his fears. I knew his perversions, too. Rich men have dark secrets, that's for sure.

For me, the hacking and learning the secrets of these men was the fun part. It was tinted however by knowing that I was expected to put out for them. I tried not to think about that, but it kept popping into me head.

I next began on big fish number two. I continued until I finally stopped at 8pm the next day, applied the perfect perfume for the occasion, dressed in my new drop-dead Lanvin creation, and told Philip to take me to the hotel bar for a drink. I wore my golden nail bracelet and my brand new diamond encrusted gold broach, and my new gold dangle earrings that jingled when I walked. I called them my wind chime earrings.

Every man at the hotel bar looked at me and some men stared. I ignored them all and told Philip the broad outlines of why I was doing what I was doing, and my plan for the evening. He was awe struck, and realized my brilliance. At least he is bright enough for that, I thought.

You see, I knew the way to get to these men was to be completely unobtainable, but extremely desirable. It's all about desire and impossibility. These rich men want what they cannot have, and they want to have what everyone else wants. For tonight, I had to be the most desirable woman there, and to be completely unobtainable. I had to combine both: desire and impossibility, and also be the trophy everyone wanted.

It was not enough to be the prettiest, nor the sexiest. Those girls are a dime a dozen. I had to be both of those, and also the smartest, someone he could talk to about what he loved the most in life, besides his money. It could not be about money, I had to entertain his mind. Then he would want me more than life itself. That, in essence, was my plan.

And now I needed a buzz. I could not be a whore if I were sober. I could play the seduction part best sober, but sadly I knew I was going to have to deliver the sex, too. That part scared me, especially after what I had seen on the computer of the Big Fish.

I needed courage, and booze gave it to me. Sadly, the cocktails at this hotel were expensive champagne and some fruit liqueur. Pathetic. So I ordered the oldest Scotch whiskey they had. That might do the trick.

As I was sipping my whiskey, Steve and Odessa walked into the bar. Just as had happened when I walked into the bar earlier, it was as if time stopped. A hush enveloped the bar and it seemed like everyone stopped breathing at the shock of this gorgeous vision that was floating in.

Odessa did not go for subtlety. She had on a bright red silk dress with both very large and fairly small oval cutouts. One of course was for her entire back, with just a strap of fabric at the bottom of her neck constituting the top boundary of the oval. The oval ended where the crack of her ass began.

There was a large oval hole in the front, too. It revealed the entire inside sides of both of her boobs, almost exposing her nipples but stopping just short. You did get to see a fair amount of her areolas, since hers were large, but not her nipples. The cut out went almost to the bottom of her neck at the top and all the way down past her belly button in the front. It stopped just inches short of her vagina.

There were also small cutouts on her sides. If you wanted to stick your hand inside her dress, you would have a large choice of ways to do it. All the rest was covered except for a small slit so that she could walk.

Clearly she was also commando: there was no way to wear either a bra or panties with such a dress, without creating lines, or have parts of the panties actually visible. There were no lines. Like my dress, it clung to Odessa's body. It maximally showed her beautiful creamy white skin. It had to be one of the sexiest dresses on earth. It was the ultimate "fuck me dress."

The fabric of Odessa's dress was similar to mine, having just a tad of stretch to it so that it hugged her body and also revealed every womanly curve she had. She had them all.

Somehow her dress, while showing a large amount of skin and boob, but did not make her look cheap or available, just ultra desirable. I was jealous as all hell, but I knew for my purposes tonight, that was not the dress for me. But it sure was for Odessa!

Steve and Odessa ordered the house cocktails at the hotel bar, champagne with what peach liqeur in it, and then the four of us got into a cab to go the party. Steve sat in the back in between us two girls, and he already had his hands under Odessa's dress. She just smiled and looked straight ahead. When we got out of the cab she whispered to me thanks for arranging the right clothes for us. She understood my plan.

I had previously told Philip how to behave when he spoke with the Big Fish. I knew the Big Fish would get him alone to ask about me, and I told him to tell him I was not like that, and I was unavailable. I knew from my hacking research, the BF (as I called him; his actual name was Mark Harwood) would push hard to get me, and after some resistance Philip should advise him to get me drunk to have his best chance. Then the BF would ask for my biggest vulnerability, and after a while of more stalling, Philip would tell him I liked old cars. After a lot more pushing, Philip could admit I had a weakness for sexual bondage games.

After I told Philip all this he was surprised, and said, "Joanie, I had no idea you like old cars and especially that you are into bondage!"

I said, "I don't like old cars, and I'm not at all into bondage. This is how we land the BF. It's the BF who is into bondage. What do you think I was doing for hours on my computer? On his computer he has pictures of all the bound naked women that he has fucked, including his wife. Just trust me on this."

The party was at an elegant private club on the right bank. From the outside it looked like another French government building, with massive cut-stone walls and two unmarked doors so large that when they both opened you could drive a car through them. One door was open and two guards were standing outside to keep out uninvited guests.

We were ushered in. The place was gorgeous, with a cobble stone patio used to park a few fancy cars, and in the building beyond the courtyard we entered an elegant room dating back to before the French revolution, complete with a painted ceiling and gold leaf everywhere, or so it seemed. As we entered a booming voice announced us: Miss Joan Harley and Mr. Philip Wilson, of New York. We were each given glasses of champagne as we made our grand entrance.

Right from the start I knew I had chosen the right dress, jewelry, and shoes. Every eye in the place was on me. I think my handsome lover Philip was almost completely ignored. In our sexist world it's all about the women, how they look and what they're wearing. In that sense, I was batting a thousand.

I also chose the right perfume I silently thought, but that is for later. Even more impressive, the eyes lingered on me even as the next couple, Steve and Odessa, was announced. And that despite the fact that Odessa looked stunning.

Odessa asked if she could cling to me during the party. I told her yes, please do. Both of us were nervous and scared. These were powerful men surrounding us, among the lost powerful men in the world. They were not the immature sex hungry college drunks I was used to fighting off, and they were not the New York masters of the universe that Odessa had learned to swat away with ease and grace. These men were a different type of animal. We were each not sure we knew how to deal with them.

Philip and Steve stood by our sides, reinforcing that we were theirs. I was not sure they realized that these men did not care. Everyone was for them tonight, in their minds. They ruled the world, and could have what they wanted. You could see it in their eyes, and this is what frightened Odessa, and despite my bravado and cocky self-confidence, it also frightened me.

I realized to play the part I knew I had to play, I needed all my wits and had to stay sober. I also knew I had to be drunk when the sex part came at the end. When to start drinking was something I had yet to figure out.

Philip and Steve were whisking us around and introducing us to men. I already knew the faces of the four fishes Philip wanted to land. This was from their pictures on various web sites. They were older than their pictures, but surprisingly young, most of them in their 40s or early 50s, and more handsome as a rule than Philip's creepy boss, Mr. Hardigan.

The lingua franca of the event was English, since the rich industrialists came from all over Europe, Japan, and Singapore, etc. I kept secret my ability with the French language.

The BF, Mr. Harwood, was only 45, and reasonably good looking. I gave him and each of the other men a big smile, and I only spoke when spoken to. Mr. Harwood asked me banal questions, such as what I planned to do in Paris. I told him it was my first time in Paris, and I was curious about their network of underground pneumatic tubes they once used to aid the fast delivery of the mail. I did not elaborate and left him dumbfounded.

I knew he was expecting a reply such as I wanted to see the Eiffel Tower, or to visit the Louvre, or to go shopping, or to enjoy an elegant French meal. Indeed, those things were exactly what I wanted to do. But I also knew that the answer I gave would intrigue him.

I excused myself from Mr. Harwood, and Odessa and I left him dumbfounded and mingled with any other women we could find who were not surrounded by men. This gave us a limited choice, but we did not care.

We enjoyed talking with the other women, and by doing so, nobody was pressuring us to drink. Every so often Philip or Steve would bring some rich guy over to meet us, and we would dazzle them with our looks. I dazzled the first five big fishes on Philip's lists. I enjoyed seeing them dazzled, not just by my looks, but also my aplomb and my original and provocative replies to their questions. My computer work was really paying off.

Odessa was on display in her dress, and so was I. The difference was that Odessa's sexuality was up front and our there, whereas mine was a little subtler yet as such ultimately more seductive.

Big fish number 4 quite discretely felt up my ass. He was clever and did it when we were near a wall, and my back was facing the wall. He did it in an erotic way, with his hand caressing the crack of my ass, giving my ass cheeks little squeezes, and at one point he fondled the back of my cunt from behind.

While he did this I just smiled innocently and drank my drink. I did not react at all. He stopped, smiled at me, and then arranged it so he could do the same to Odessa. I gave a slight head movement to Odessa, warning her so that she could have the presence of mind not to react.

With Odessa he slipped his hand through one of the ovals to caress her ass in the flesh, not through her dress. Odessa looked at me. I let him do this to her for a few minutes, and then I said to him, "Please excuse us both. I see Mrs. Harwood standing alone and we both want to meet her."

Big Fish 3 just smiled at us as we walked away, wiggling our asses for him.

Had I not been there, Odessa in her dress, jewelry, and perfume, and with her natural beauty, would have been the most seductive woman there. The two of us together became irresistible to the rich men.

So they kept coming to us. We would frustrate them by introducing them to the women we were speaking with and then slipping away. It was just another aspect of my desire and impossibility strategy.

Big Fishes numbers 2 and 4 came over together. They were both French. After some small talk they spoke to each other in French. They said something like this:

Number 2: I've mentally undressed both of these bitches. They have bodies that will not quit!

Number 4: I can't decide which one to fuck first.

They said this right in front of us. So I said to them, in near perfect French, "Will you please excuse us gentlemen? I think our partners are looking for us." As Odessa and I left them standing there, horrified with embarrassment, I knew my shit eating smile was in grave danger of becoming laughter.

After a couple of hours of this, Philip and Steve got Odessa and me alone, and they told us every man at the party wanted a chance with each of us, or better, both of us at once. They had narrowed it down to four, plus the Big Fish Harwood, making five in total. Were we game?

I said, "I need to get drunk, and fast." Odessa agreed. They told us the four men and Harwood had gone to a private room and they would take us there when we were ready. Odessa and I quickly each downed a large glass of very old Scotch whiskey and I said, "Lay on, Macduff," and off we went.

The four of us entered the well-lit room that was furnished in Louis-something style. A concession to modernity was two modern queen size beds. That made the purpose of this room pretty obvious.

As planned when I saw the two double beds, I shot Philip a look and turned around and began to leave. Philip caught me by the arm and began to whisper something, as I was straining to get away. Then Mr. Harwood approached, smiling and offering me a drink; in the other hand he was carrying a small whip.

I made a show of noticing the whip, relaxing, and then I smiled my flash of headlights smile at Mr. Harwood. "That looks like an interesting cocktail," I said, as Philip released my arm.

"Thank you,' Harwood said. "I designed it myself. I call it "Liquid Silk."

"I will be delighted to taste it, especially since you designed it yourself. I love original drinks,' I said. I tasted it, and then tasted it again. I was silent for a time.

"Is it alright?" Harwood asked.

"Oh yes," I quickly said, snapping out of my reverie. "It's delicious. I was trying to figure out what is in it. It's subtle, but please don't tell me."

"I certainly will not tell you," he said. "It's a personal secret. But I'm pleased that you like it."

I then took another taste, and beckoned him to come close and whispered in his ear with my sexiest whisper, and told him the recipe for the drink. I had of course found it when I hacked into his personal computer just before the party. He was flabbergasted. He pulled away and for the first time he looked at me as more than just a potential sexual conquest. He now saw me as a woman, and not just a sexually objectified woman.

To Philip's credit, he saw the change that occurred in Harwood when I whispered the recipe in his ear. Philip did not know what I was whispering; he saw only the result. I had deliberately made a mistake, so my recipe was close to perfect, but not exactly perfect. I had said Triple Sec, when I knew it was Cointreau. My proportions however were perfect.

When my cocktail glass was empty, Harwood returned with another. I gave him my best smile, accepted it, and mentioned he missed his calling as a bartender. Then I said as if I were reflecting, "But it's nice you have had so much success with pharmaceuticals." I added, "It looks as if your new experimental drug, Navaserum, could alter the landscape for Alzheimer's disease."