The Invitation
A devilish invitation awakens Mary's desires
The latest in my series of intensely erotic stories inspired by folklore tales. Traditionally these stories draw a discreet veil across the scene when the erotic action starts - mine plunge right in but, being a little devilish myself, you will hit a paywall just as all begins to be revealed.
If you would rather explore some of my free to read supernatural stories there is a full list here.
The Invitation
Mary watched as Isabella moved around the room. Her slinky dress, a dazzling pattern of turquoise and blues that clung around her slim figure and hung down to the floor made her resemble a peacock. The slash up the side almost to the top of her thigh revealed long, elegant legs as she glided between the groups of guests. At each gathering, the conversation stopped and all eyes turned to Isabella. She would exchange a few words, sometimes laugh at a response and place her hand conspiratorially on a man’s or woman’s upper arm and then move on.
The peacock approached her, dark eyes fixed on hers and Mary half expected a tail to suddenly fan out and hide the rest of the room.
“Mary, my dear.” Isabella took her hand and leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. “And where is that darling husband of yours?”
“Away in London,” Mary looked down at the floor.
“He should not leave such a beautiful wife unattended, who knows what you might get up to whilst he is absent.”
“He does that quite a lot,” Mary said, still looking down and feeling like a dowdy sparrow next to Isabella, despite her lavish evening dress.
“We will talk,” Isabella laid her hand on Mary’s arm. “Stay behind after the party.”
Mary nodded.
Isabella smiled and moved on. Mary watched her. She was an enigma: stunningly beautiful with dark, fashionably bobbed hair. She appeared to be just a little older than Mary, maybe in her early thirties but, despite her age, she had the poise and presence of a dowager duchess. No one knew where her money came from but she threw lavish parties in one of the largest houses in this part of Wiltshire, the grounds of which were so expansive that they even contained a ruined chapel.
Mary had no idea how they had become friends or even if they were actually what you would class as friends. Isabella had simply taken her under her wing at their first meeting and maintained the contact after that.
The last of the guests had left and Isabella sat opposite Mary smoking a slim cigar. A glass of port rested on the side table next to her chair.
“I really don’t see why port and cigars should be the prerogative of men,” she said, lifting her chin as she took another puff. Her eyes locked onto Mary. “Now, my dear, what is ailing you?”
“Nothing,” Mary whispered.
“Rubbish,” Isabella sat forward. “Is it your husband? An affair?”
“Yes,” Mary looked up, tears welling in her eyes.”
“They do that,” Isabella scoffed. “Most men cannot resist another woman.”
“It’s not a woman,” Mary blurted out.
“Ah,” Isabella sat back. “Has he taken you at all?”
Mary jumped at the direct question. “Yes, early on in our marriage but…”
“So, he has given you a taste for it but is now leaving you unfulfilled.”
“I don’t know - some women say it is enjoyable…” Mary’s voice tailed off.
“It is, extremely, when it’s done well.” Isabella took another puff of her cigarillo and stubbed it out. “If you wish I could introduce you to a like minded group who explore the more,” she paused, “erotic side of life.”
“You mean…”
“If I have your assurance of absolute discretion and that you will never speak of this to another living soul, you may come and watch at first.”
Mary sat with her mouth open and her eyes wide. She was still not sure what Isabella had just invited her to view, or to do, but the offer was tempting. She wanted so much to know, maybe to experience what some women whispered about. “What do I have to do?”
“Come,” Isabella stood up and offered her hand. “We are meeting tonight.”
Mary looked at her watch; it was well past midnight. She stood and followed Isabella into the hallway. Two fur coats hung on hooks by the door. Isabella took one down and held it out to Mary. “Take off your dress and put this on, it can be muddy outside and we would not want to get that beautiful dress dirty.”
“Outside,” Mary gasped.
“It is only a short walk,” Isabella said.
Mary unhooked her dress and, feeling naked in just her chemise and French knickers, took the coat. As soon as she tried to put it on she realised that it was not a coat but a cloak. She wrapped it around herself.
“Unhook me please,” Isabella turned her back to her.
Mary undid her dress and Isabella slipped it off. Then, to Mary’s surprise, she also removed her underwear. Her naked figure was as elegant and stunning as her clothed one; round breasts, a flat stomach and beautifully curved hips. Mary turned her head away as she caught sight of neatly trimmed pubic hair with the hint of lips below.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of in the sight of a woman’s naked body,” Isabella draped the cloak over her shoulders leaving the front open. The dark framing of the fur only serving to emphasise her slender figure.
“Kick off your shoes and enjoy the sensation of walking barefoot.” Isabella opened the door and they stepped outside. The gravel of the drive bit at Mary’s bare feet but then they were on the soft grass and Isabella led her towards the ruins of the chapel.
Mary peered ahead, it looked as if there were lights moving between the stones. They walked through the arch at the end of the ruin and Mary froze, her mouth open and her eyes wide.