Tag Archives: fleur friday

Fleur Friday No. 28 — Rosy

Jeanne picked up roses for her apartment, on the way to dinner with Karys. She was mildly tipsy because she has been drinking wine for so long with her sister, but she was happy that that had happened. 

Karys stood up to kiss her, and they both sat down.

“So?” she asked, and took a sip of her wine. “How did things go with Eliza?”
“Fine,” Jeanne answered. “We drank a lot of wine, and we talked and everything was fine. We are supposed to have brunch in a few weeks. She is going to Paris with her new husband.”
“I know, I read it in the daily news.”

Jeanne smiled, Karys did not know who her sister was until she had told her but she followed her the same way that she had before they were even knew they were sisters. Eliza and Rafe were not in the news all of the time, but they were there enough that they seemed like celebrities.

“I saw it in the paper too, but Eliza told me the details today while we were together.”

“Like a sister.”

“Like a sister.”

“I guess she will take my place, you will go to all of her events and be with her and get caught up in her life and I won’t see you anymore. Last supper?”

“Not a chance, not even if you wanted it!”

Karys was not her closest thing to a sister anymore, but she was her best friend without a doubt. They had been best friends forever, even including a brief period when they were exploring their sexuality and tried each other on for size. They realized that was not who they were. They were just the best of friends and would always be. Their level of intimacy did not need to include anything more than that.

“Good!”

“You should meet Eliza, we all have to plan something. We have to start mixing worlds, and I told her all about you and Sabrina. So we will all meet. I am supposed to meet her friends too. I already know her husband so…”

“Sure it will be nice to meet her.”

Nodding, Jeanne wondered what it would be like to merge their worlds. What it was going to be like to expand their worlds?

More Fleur Friday here, you can read more about Eliza here.

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roses via wikipedia

Fleur Friday No. 13

Jeanne opened her apartment door to let Terrence in. She was so comfortable around him at this point, that she did not make much of an effort to really get dressed into anything nice. She did not put on any makeup, or do anything with her hair.
She looked a figurative mess, and she told him that he did not have to make her breakfast, but he insisted. She managed to get him a job at one of her freelance gigs, and he had been there as an executive and was happy. He got her lunch a lot when she was there, even though her role there was very different from his.
Their lifestyles were different.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I told you did not have to.”
“I wanted to,” he said, right behind her when she turned around. “You said not to take you out to lunch anymore. I know how to cook.”
Jeanne felt very vulnerable all of a sudden. He was so close to her, and his scent of warmth filled her nose. He moved imperceptibly closer, as he reached behind her to pick up her frying pan. She moved to help him, but he pushed her hands away. So she stood back to watch him in a t-shirt and jeans make scramble eggs with whatever she had in her fridge. He plated it for her like a chef.
It was delicious, and they ate together on her balcony. Jeanne feared she seemed like a pig, but Terrence dabbed at the corner of her mouth with his finger which she licked instinctively.
Their eyes locked.
He dipped his finger into her mouth, and she sucked it in as she closed her eyes. Slowly he slipped his finger out, and kissed her on the mouth. Jeanne swooned a bit, and he pulled her close to him after she knocked over a flower pot on the ground. She opened her eyes, and his fingers were inside her shorts caressing the curve of her ass.
She sucked on his bottom lip, Kir Royale flavored.
The cassis was sweeter there.

More Fleur Friday here, and read about Jeanne’s sister Eliza here.

Kir Royale via wikipedia

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Fleur Friday No. 10 — Nurse

Jeanne had not meant to walk into any of this, she was only there to support her sister. She started to go to see Eliza on her own, and she knew Rafe liked this because Jeanne was not afraid to take basic care of Eliza. She had taken care of her ailing mother and grandmother, and she did not have any qualms about death or illness.
Eliza was looking better, although she was in a lot of pain and it would be awhile before she was able to take care of herself. Some of her bruises looked painful, and Jeanne could only imagine how Eliza felt.
The first time she saw the woman in white in what almost seemed like a sexy nurse Halloween outfit, was a few times after she had been there herself. Once it was just the nurse, and she watched Eliza as she slept. She ran her hands through her hair, when Eliza swung wildly and turned when Jeanne walked in with the key that Eliza had had Rafe make for her.
“She has fitful dreams, I like to be close by when she is asleep,” Ingrid stated.
Jeanne looked at Ingrid—the actual, not made up for Halloween nurse’s name was Ingrid—and nodded.
“I know, I feel scared sometimes too when she is flailing, but I know it is just a bad dream.”
“She’s improved so much though, she was so bad off when she came to me. I willed her back to life almost all by myself.”
“When is your hospital shift?”
“Midnight to 6.” Ingrid answered, as she walked over to the stove, she looked askance at Jeanne.
“Would you like some coffee or tea? Rafe likes the tea that I make, I lived in England for a long time, so I make a very strong tea.’
Jeanne shrugged.
Rafe came back, and looked at Jeanne with a resigned look. Jeanne was not sure how to assess him. He was tired clearly, but he also clearly cared a great deal for Eliza to go through all of this.
They all drank tea when Ingrid poured it for them, and had light conversation. It began to rain, but none of them moved. Eliza responded asleep to the white light that would fill up the dim room, and loud thunder.
The rain was so violent, that Jeanne went to the sectional couch she often slept on much later. She had to admit that she was exhausted as well. She woke up, and went to go to the bathroom when she took pause. White light filled the guest room and through the cracked door, and she saw Ingrid was naked in the room bathed in white light, as opposed to her white nurse’s uniform. Rafe was naked behind her and they both looked labored, but were incredibly silent as they obviously fucked.
Jeanne did not turn on the light in the bathroom, but saw her angst-ridden expression in the bathroom mirror when the white lightning flashed in the bathroom. She did what she had to do, and then scurried back to the couch.
When she got up in the morning, Terrence was sitting beside her. She looked around.
“Where is Rafe? Ingrid?”
Terrence shrugged.
Jeanne shrugged.
Eliza was still asleep, and Jeanne went over to her and soothed her hair for the comfort her sister did not know she needed…

This is Fleur Friday! Ingrid was introduced in my last Wicked Wednesday in which the theme was Uniform. Things are pretty intense for Masturbation Monday as well!

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Fleur Friday No. 8 — Traditional

Mal was asleep beside her, and Jeanne was somewhere between sleep and wake. Her drowsy eyelids grazed his warm skin and made her feel drugged with tiredness.

“What’s wrong?” Mal whispered, rubbing her cheeks softly under the eyes. Jeanne did not even realize that tears had formed, she pressed her face to his now damp from her tears skin.

“Someone died.”

“I am sorry, was it someone you were close to?”

Jeanne closed her eyes.

“My father.”

Mal wrapped his arms about her, and she sunk into his embrace with a mixture of emotions.

“Were you close? I am not close with my parents…”

“I never met him.”

His embrace tightened about her.

“I grew up with my mom, and she never told me or my father that the other existed. When she died, I found out in her papers.”

“I am sorry.”

Jeanne rolled onto her back, and Mal rolled with her looking into her eyes.

“I have a sister, but she does not know what we are sisters. I went out with her and this guy, and she told me her father was dead—which meant my father was dead and I almost lost it. I did not expect to have such strong emotions about it. I mean I never knew him…”

“But it was your father nonetheless,” Mal said somberly, looking in her eyes. The sun peeked into his eyes with light, and she was riveted.

She nodded.

“You are the only person I have told besides Karys.” Mal nodded, she saw a soft twist of his lips because he knew Karys was important to her. Now she had told him he was important too, and she was ambivalent about it. But she continued. “I am glad that you are with me, I didn’t realize that I did not want to be alone.”

“And you did not call me, I came because I missed you.”

Jeanne nodded, and ran her hands through his hair. He leaned forward, and it all fell into his face.  She used her hand to clear the hair from his face, and looked into his sun-filled eyes.

Her emotions for him were staggering, and she was anxious. When she had strong feelings like this, things usually did not go well. She had had traditional and non-traditional relationships, and none of them had gone very well. Looking into his eyes, while he searched hers felt so intimate. When she closed her eyes, his still burned into hers.

Her pretty, pretty Mal.

More Fleur Friday here. And don’t forget to read my latest Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday!

crateva religiosa via wikipedia

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(Flash And) Fleur Friday No. 6

Jeanne was in a daze between the wine, and the incredulity of the fact that her father was dead. The father she never met was dead, and it was a startling revelation. She hoped she covered up nicely enough, when Eliza took her hand and asked if she was okay. When she left Eliza and Terrence for a car home, and arrived there she felt numb during her shower.

She went right to sleep.

When she woke up in the morning, she had a need for release. Much like she had had the other time she went to Mal’s apartment. But she was too lazy to go to his place, so she rolled around in her bed. She was startled when she heard her buzzer, and she pulled the eye mask she wore to sleep up over her head. She was naked because she did not believe in anything but her and the sheets in bed, as she walked to the door.

“Hello?” Her voice was groggy—froggy really—and her incidental French accent was thicker than usual.

“Fleur?”

Jeanne buzzed Mal up, she did not get dressed and she did not remove her mask from over her head. She opened the door, and the sight of him in a t-shirt and jeans, and his long hair twisted up left her speechless.

“I need you,” he said, and wrapped his arms about her body.

She needed him too, she needed him and things that she could not name or did not even know. She stood on her bare tiptoes, and kissed him. He pulled her into him running his hands over her body, with the intimate knowledge he had acquired from being with her. He knew that caressing her ribcage made her chuckle, but prolonged it made her groan. His pressed his hand on her hip, and kissed her neck and shoulders.

“I want to leave marks on you,” he said, after a long kiss on the round of her shoulder.

Jeanne nodded, and took his hair out of its twist.

“You can do whatever you want to me…”

Driven by lust, they moved together and Mal placed her eye mask back over her eyes. Jeanne felt a lascivious thrill, with the loss of her sight. Her heart raced, and Mal kissed and licked there. Then the racing of her heart pounded between her legs. He pulled her leg up, and she wrapped them around his body, which meant she had to trust him so she would not fall.

He did not let her fall…

Jeanne is burying her grief is lust with Mal this week, Eliza was thinking of Jeanne as she fulfilled her own lust. And Sabrina well, she experienced lust as usual. Follow all of my ladies for their sometimes interconnected stories.

More Wicked Wednesday here, where the theme was lust. More Friday Flash here. And yes, it is Friday Flash and Fleur Friday!!!

 

 

masked graffiti via fdotleonora

 

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Fleur Friday No. 5 — Discord

Jeanne delicately spooned the fragrant broth at the bottom of her bowl. She was so close to Eliza, she could smell the wine on her breath—the bottle she had purchased for the table, that she and Terrence drank like water. Jeanne had enough, but was afraid if she drank too much she would reveal too much—feel more comfortable than she oddly did already.

If Jeanne was honest there was some—not a lot—but some resentment of Eliza and her mother. They were the chosen ones. Her father did not know about her, but he had not chosen Jeanne and her mother. And while her childhood was fine, she always knew that she lived the alternate life. Eliza had a mother and a father.

Her father.

And now here she was, so close she could smell the wine flowing from Eliza’s tongue. She poured wine for Jeanne, and she thanked her as she took a quick sip.

Terrence looked at Eliza in a way that let Jeanne know if she was not there it would be an intimate night for them. Eliza smiled at him in a soft tipsy way, like a young girl with a young crush. Eliza had a presence that made her elegant and accessible at once. She had a lot of Jeanne’s style to be honest, there was such a similarity Jeanne was surprised she did not run into Eliza all of the time.

But then Jeanne travelled a lot, and lived part of the time in France where her grandmother had a home. Jeanne was very proud of her French roots, and she did have that certain je ne sais quoi. Terrence looked at her approvingly to indicate he thought she was attractive, but his interests did not stray from Eliza.

“It’s been a lovely night Jeanne, I am happy you decided to spend some time with us, cheers!”

They all clinked glasses, and Jeanne felt a trickle of wine on her wrist. When she looked down, she saw it was midnight. She looked up like she was about to turn into a pumpkin.

“It’s midnight,” she said.

“On Friday, a lovely thing, the night is still filled with possibilities…” Eliza smiled. “I live right around the corner. This is my cafe now, I am here all of the time. I just moved, I…” Eliza faltered. “You might have noticed in the news, but I am sure you read the arts and more worthwhile things. I just had a very public breakup, and I am just trying to get my footing.”

“I did not want to mention it,” Jeanne said softly.

Eliza smiled.

“Because you are classy, you know you remind me of my father, not sure what it is about you. He had the same quiet manner like you.”

Jeanne felt her mouth go dry.

“Your father is dead, you said had?”

Eliza sobered as she nodded her head, and Jeanne nodded as if she knew too.

Beethoven’s Symphony Number 9 came up louder around them.

Jeanne might be feeling a little discord right now, follow her story every Fleur Friday. Follow Eliza’s story here. This week the Wicked Wednesday theme was symphony, which you can read more of here.

image via wikipedia

Fleur Friday No. 4 — Sisters

Jeanne’s pace increased as she heard the heavy tread of footsteps behind her. It was the middle of the day, but this was New York and it was clear that she was being followed.

“Excuse me, wait, miss?”

Jeanne turned around, and within minutes of their last encounter, she was again looking Eliza in the eyes. As if the thought, somehow secured that it would happen. There she was looking her sister–who did not know that she was her sister–in the eye.

“I saw you at the cafe, and I felt like I knew you. You look familiar. Do I?” Eliza continued, wide eyed and with a hopeful smile.

Jeanne shrugged, it was a now or never moment. But did she want to blurt out on a SoHo Street that she was her sister? Did she want to bring all of that up, and open Pandora’s box on Crosby Street?

“You are Eliza Morton, right? I am a writer, I’ve covered the art scene. I just had that moment when you think you know someone and you do, but you don’t. We have never spoken before, but I have seen you. My name is Jeanne Bordeaux.” Jeanne extended her hand instinctively.

“Oh! Indeed, I have read your articles, do you want to…” Eliza looked flustered, taking Jeanne’s hand. “I mean I followed you out into the street, I am with my boyfriend having coffee, maybe dinner. Join us? Are you in a rush?”

Jeanne smiled, it could not hurt and maybe it was the most delightful serendipity. She shrugged.

“Sure, why not. I was headed to a gallery for a look at an artist, but there is no rush.”

The two of them walked back to the cafe where Eliza’s boyfriend was sitting. Was that the reason why she and her fiancé had broken up? Maybe her sister was better off than she thought, from seeing her love life in bits and pieces in the newspaper?

“I did know this lady!” Eliza beamed at the man. “She is the writer Jeanne Bordeaux?”

“Oh Ms. Bordeaux, I have heard of you too. Read some of your articles,” He put put his hand for her to shake it.

“Jeanne, call me Jeanne.”

“Jeanne, I am Terrence.”

Jeanne sat on her hands as she eased into the booth beside Eliza to ease their shaking. She was so nervous, she had never been this close to Eliza before, or spoken to her! She was at a loss for what was going to happen between them.

Whatever happened it would be an education, that is for sure on both learning about her sister and learning who she would be in this situation.

Find out more about Jeanne’s education, every Fleur Friday. Follow Eliza’s story here. This week the Wicked Wednesday theme was education which you can read more of here.

Fleur Friday No. 3 — Newspaper

Jeanne hugged Karys, before she got out of her car and walked up to her apartment. In her apartment, she wrapped her arms about herself. Thoughts of Mal filled her head, he had been texting her floral texts since she left.

She really was his Fleur.

She liked spending time with Karys who was like a sister to her, and even more. It was ironic that she was so close to a friend like this, when she actually had a sister who she did not know—and did not want to know.

Her father had left her mother before she was born, and her mother never said she was pregnant. Why would she have? Her father was marrying another woman, and she was not the type of woman who wanted to trap a man. She raised Jeanne on her own, and Jeanne never wanted for anything. Her childhood was a fanciful one, that fueled her creativity and made her a writer. She was working as a writer as a teenager getting paid, and never stopped getting paid for it.

It was not until her mother died, that she found through her mother’s things pictures of a man that she clearly looked like and in her mother’s journal entries she discovered his name and saw pictures of him with his wife…

…and daughter.

The life that Jeanne did not have with a mother and father, was given to his other daughter, Eliza.

Eliza Morton was an art specialist, and socialite who was getting married to a wealthy businessman. She often saw pictures of her in newspapers and magazines. Jeanne sometimes had articles concurrently in the periodicals, and so she and her sister would be in them at the same time.

Jeanne was padding barefoot around her apartment, when she picked up the paper and skimmed through it. Pages in, indeed, she did see a photo Eliza but she clutched the paper tightly when she read the caption.

Eliza Morton heads to work with a gourmet coffee and looks elegant as one of the artworks she sells, days after her rumored split from her fiance.

Jeanne felt something stir inside of her, that she had never felt before. It had always seemed to her that Eliza was the lucky one, it never occurred to her that Eliza had problems or anything unhappy in her life. She had their father’s love, the rich fiancé and Jeanne felt like the bohemian Cinderella step-sister. But now, now she wondered if Eliza was happy and if she needed someone—a sister to be there for her.

She had never wanted to meet Eliza before. But she wondered if now was the time when she felt like this, seeing her in print.

More Fleur Friday here, and read more about Eliza here.