Lady Asta de Lacy’s October 2014 Diary


It was chilly this morning and I was reluctant to get out from under my new goose down winter duvet. Lying in bed, listening to the leaves rustling and contemplating the prospect of Mark and Aurelie’s Mexican Day of the Dead themed Halloween party was all too pleasant. The build up to a party, having just finished a phase of work stirs me up – freedom and possibility oiling imagination.

I finished the final sculpture in the new collection last night. Perhaps I’ll leave early for London and call in to the Lobanov-Rostovsky gallery to talk to Ludmila about preparing for the exhibition. After the success of the last one and the interest shown in Russia, there has been talk of holding it at their Moscow gallery. Moscow in the snow and then on to somewhere hot would suit me fine!

Pulling a kimono on over my silk pyjamas, I wandered downstairs to the library to see if Marcel had started work yet. He was up the ladder searching for a book wearing only his boxer shorts, and judging from his wet hair, he had just got out of the shower. Grabbing a book, he descended the ladder and started as he saw me standing in the doorway laughing at him. He laughed too then explaining that a thought had struck him in the shower and he had had to come immediately to see if the book he thought might be there actually was.

After making a space for the book on his crowded desk, he walked over and wrapped me in a delicious smelling, warm embrace, playfully tugging at my hair and then running his hand down my back. I didn’t want to pull away, but we drew apart after a moment. He looked at me, and as our eyes met I could hear his breath draw in and a shadow passed over his features. “Play safe this evening” he said firmly, “and you know where I am if you need me”. I nodded, blushing slightly at the thought that he clearly knows exactly what I get up to.
Six o’clock Saturday found me at Grosvenor Crescent unpacking various shopping bags and pouring rose bath foam under the taps of the copper bateau bath. I sunk in submerging my head and staying like that for as long as I could hold my breath. I love how muffled and far away everything sounds under the water. I then spent far too long relaxing and realized that I was going to be late as usual.

Having hastily dried, put on a nude satin and black lace bra and thong and a long sleeved calf length black dress cinched round the middle with a dark red leather belt, I plaited my wet hair over the top of my head and threaded through red roses in an arc.

As I walked along looking out for a cab to hail, I thought about how long ago it actually is that Mark and I were at college. It feels like only months since we could be found frequenting the canteen at Camberwell, or slipping to the pub between lectures. To go from doing an art degree to being one of the biggest financiers in London in the time he has seems nothing short of a miracle – that is, if you haven’t met Mark. He has the ability to talk himself into or out of pretty much anything.

Mark was working for Aurelie’s father’s investment bank in Paris when they met a couple of years ago. She is a divine creature in looks and personality and I can quite see how he fell for her. Always immaculately turned out with a glossy black bob and perfect lipstick, any impression of formality though evaporates with her unexpectedly animated laugh.

This was the first time I had visited my friends at their Holland Park Italianate villa since it had been extensively refurbished, and the cab pulled up to an entrance brilliantly lit with strings of multicoloured lights and brightly decorated sugar skulls hanging between them.

I was a little more than fashionably late and as Aurelie opened the door and kissed me warmly on both cheeks, an intoxicating wave of mingled scents and bodies met me along with the sound of a live Mariachi band. I could see at a glance that beneath the abundant flowers and macabre decorations, the interior had been designed and executed to perfection with the kind of pared back elegance I would have imagined Aurelie to have in these matters.

A waiter with an exquisitely painted skull-like pattern on his face and wearing a black sombrero and tuxedo approached with a tray of hot spiced rum punch and champagne. I sipped at a glass of the punch, casting my eye over the crowd and identifying a number of familiar faces. I could feel the warm glow of the punch spreading through me as I made a beeline for my old friend Petra. I crept up behind her and put a hand over her eyes. “Asta” she laughed without missing a beat. “You always know” I retorted hugging her.

Petra had returned a couple of days earlier from a trip to Japan. As a respected oriental art consultant she had been overseeing a large collection of paintings and sculptures that was being put up for sale. “You must visit with me one day” she enthused, “it’s so incredibly beautiful”. I assured her that I would love to at the first opportunity. A couple of other old faces joined us along with several new ones and the conversation and laughter flowed with the punch.

Suddenly the music stopped and voices hushed while the clock chimed 12 o’clock. At the twelfth stroke everyone cheered and the playing started up again more wildly than before. I was failing to extricate myself from a rather tedious conversation with a drunken barrister when I felt a hand slide round my waist. It was Mark and he took my hand, pulling me towards the music and beaming “let’s dance”. I conceded joyfully and we soon found Aurelie who danced up to us laughing.

The three of us danced for some time and my eyes kept meeting with Mark and Aurelie’s and theirs with each other. Aurelie moved behind me and ran her hands down my sides as we moved rhythmically together. Mark moved closer to us and took one of each of our hands, leading us out of the ballroom and towards the sweeping staircase in the entrance hall.

A dozen or so paces along the top corridor Mark pushed open a door and we entered a softly lit room. A fire was burning in the grate casting shadows round the deep red walls and several abstract expressionist paintings. The only furniture was an enormous bed with a corresponding sized mirror on the ceiling above it.

I kicked my shoes off sinking my feet into the deep, soft pile of the carpet and looking round to where Mark and Aurelie were standing gauging my reaction. “So what do you think?” Mark asked, his eyes twinkling. “I thoroughly approve of your home improvements,” I answered mock seriously, “but I think I’ll feel more at home once I’ve got out of this dress”.

Aurelie moved over to me, her features looking even more feline than usual in the low light. “You’re our guest for tonight” she lilted in her Parisian accent, unzipping my dress and easing it over my shoulders. Mark came up behind me and as he unhooked my bra and ran his hands round to cup my breasts my nipples hardened and I could feel his erection pressing against my buttocks and his warm breath getting heavier against my neck. Aurelie knelt and slowly pulled down my pants running her tongue over my stomach as she went, making me shiver with pleasure. I sighed slightly as I felt myself being pushed onto the bed, not wanting them to stop.

Mark was naked now and his well-built athletic body was deeply tanned from their recent holiday to Mustique. His cock was large and stiff, but as I reached out to touch it he gently took hold of my wrists, moving my arms over my head. As he lent over to fasten my hands to the bed head with a silk tie his cock brushed against my mouth and I ran my tongue gently round the head making him gasp and then moan as I took it into my mouth.

At the same time I felt my legs being parted and hands running lightly up the inside of my thighs and between my legs. Two fingers slid up inside me and a tongue ran tantalizingly lightly over my clitoris. As Aurelie’s fingers moved inside me, the pleasure building up was immense and I cried out as her tongue moved more forcefully round and round and over the top of my clitoris.

Mark pulled slowly out of my mouth and moved round behind Aurelie. I could see him watching her giving me head as he pushed two fingers inside her. She moved against them for a few moments then moaned “I want to feel you inside me”. In the mirror I watched him take his erection in his hand, moving it up and down and as he guided it into her. Holding her slender hips in his hands his firm buttocks moved slowly backwards and then slowly, but firmly forwards thrusting deep inside her.

Mark leant forwards putting his arms round Aurelie’s waist and pulling her up towards him, one hand sliding up to her full, round breasts, his fingers pulling her erect nipples and the other hand reaching down, one finger moving gently over her clitoris. She cried out louder as he thrust himself into her faster and faster until she lost control and came. She froze for a few moments before limply sinking down onto the bed smiling.

I looked at Mark who was breathing deeply, trying to control himself, his cock rock hard and throbbing. He looked over at me, a smile barely masking his raw desire. Electricity surged through my body as he ran his hands urgently up and between my legs, over my stomach and up to my breasts. His weight pressed down on top of me as he took a hard nipple into his mouth, sucking and pulling with his teeth and then moving to the other side, and I cried out in ecstasy as his erection slid into me.

I longed for my hands to be free to roam over his body as he pushed himself into me, but I contented myself with working my lips, tongue and teeth over his neck. Mark was crying out my name now and I felt him come hard inside me as I floated into space, multiple orgasms rippling through my body.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I became aware of was the smell of fresh coffee. I opened my eyes to see Aurelie similarly waking next to me, and a smartly dressed Mark placing a tray of coffee and croissants next to the bed. “I’ve got to fly into the office for a bit, but you girls take your time” he laughed, blowing us a kiss as he left.

It was a beautiful, fresh sunny day, and after chatting leisurely over our breakfast and showering, I borrowed some clothes and we decided to take a walk over the river, grab some lunch and catch the matinee performance of Electa at the Old Vic.

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Categories: Lady Asta de Lacy
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