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―I didn't hurt you, did I?‖ she asked anxiously.
   ―In a very nice way, aye. Tell me about my snack.‖
   Ignoring his demand, rubbing her hands to release the scents of clove and mint with an undertone of soothing lavender, she began to knead his neck and shoulder muscles. With the lotion on her hands providing a barrier between their skins, she could touch him without lust firing along her nerve endings. Her relief was shortlived.
   
He has a very nice butt.
Too nice. Each cheek was muscular and round. She could imagine him pumping his cock—Go
ddess, is he really as big as I
think he is?—
into her pussy while she grabbed those rounds and urged him deeper.
   He rolled to his back, sat up and then caught her hands.
Goddess help me! He is even bigger than I
thought.
   ―This isn't going to work, Eden.‖
   ―Wh-what?‖ If he rejected her, her dreams would die. Next to tonight's competition, massage was the most important.
   ―When you touch me, all I can think about is fucking you. Aye, a crude word, but it says everything I want to do to you. With you.‖ Releasing her wrists, he snatched up a towel
, t
hen wrapped it around his waist. ―I'll see you tonight.‖
   He fled. But her torment had yet to end. Kaliq shook his head as he went out the door. Seconds later Kamal appeared. Although his eyes never left her face, she had the distinct feeling he was listening to his brother.
   Frowning at her flight of fancy—M
ind reading is
impossible!—s
he dug into a nearby cabinet. Holding up a pair of white synthetic gloves, she snapped, ―Sit on the table. Lie down…on your belly.‖
   ―Do you intend to shove the gloves up my ass?‖ Kamal asked in a mild tone.
   ―Will you also claim Azura put a cramp in your cock? If so, go back to her for its removal.‖
   Kamal sat. ―My brother is a little confused. You see, he'd set his heart on having Azura and—‖
   ―His heart isn't the problem.‖
   ―He's having to adjust his thinking.‖
   ―If he's thinking at all, his mind lies somewhere below his waist.‖
   Kamal removed his towel. Eden gulped. He was even larger than his brother.
   
It isn't the size of the man's shaft that matters, E
den remembered Tante harping,
but how he uses it.
Tante had also lectured that there was no such thing as too much of a good thing. All Eden could imagine was her pain and wonder how all that—
enormous!—
male flesh would fit. Inside. Her.
   ―The gloves,‖ Eden heard herself saying as if far away, ―are so you can endure my touching you.‖
   ―I think they are so you can endure touching me. Put them away, Eden. I'm made of sterner stuff than Kaliq. Knowing what awaits me, I enjoy the anticipation.‖
   She had to do this—touch him all over his magnificent body. Having lost Kaliq's score, she needed Kamal's. Otherwise she would never achieve her goal. Being named The Consummate Courtesan was slipping through her fingers. Especially if Kaliq rated Azura, but declined to mark Eden at all.
   Looking up, she discovered Kamal lying on his back, a towel modestly covering his cock and balls. I can do this, she told herself as she coated her hands with herb-scented cream.
   But when she placed her hands on his rockhard pecs, she knew she was in for the fight of her life. His flat male nipples puckered. Hers felt like sharp stones poking her thin cotton sweater. Touching his washboard abs made her stomach clench and her pussy ache with longing. She forced her hands lower. Biting her lips, she massaged his thighs and registered his were less hairy than Kaliq's. Still, she could imagine them rubbing against her own thighs as she moved with him. Before she suited thought to action, she moved quickly down his muscled calves to his feet.
   ―Did you know that your feet connect to every erogenous point in your body?‖
Damn my wayward
tongue! I should have bitten it off!
   He groaned. ―I am only now discovering that.
Maybe tonight I can return the favor.‖
―Turn over.‖
   When he stayed where he was, she looked up his body. He'd pulled the towel away. His cock rose like a flagpole. Wanting nothing more than to impale herself on it, she whirled away.
   This time, Eden fled.

Chapter Eight

The Final Competition

That evening, Tante leaned her ample buttocks against the dining room's grand piano and waited for her guests to quiet. When they quit mumbling to each other, she smiled and said, ―Tonight each of my ladies will prepare a traditional Venusian meal for the gentlemen seated at her table.‖ She'd fudged a little, putting two bidders with Joan that she could have put with Eden. Seated one with Colette she might have given to Azura. Since Azura's cooking skills were deplorable, she'd done him a great favor. The men now seated at her table must have ironclad stomachs. Or short memories about the disastrous meal she'd served at the first competition.
   ―The meal will consist of Andromedan antipasto to start. An entrée follows, cooked to order and including Venusian veal, chicken, pork and beef—one or all if you gentlemen like. You also will have your choice of pasta with Alfredo, marinara, vodka or Bolognese sauce. Dessert—the fruits, gelati and sorbets of your choice. For those of you who prefer your meal
a la française
, I urge you to reconsider. Well…except for broccoli hollandaise. Amazing the things you can do with hollandaise.‖ She chuckled. ―In truth, gentlemen, the only things not on the menu tonight are the ladies.
   ―Upon completion of your leisurely dining experience you will fill out the evaluations given you. Your bids will indicate how much you enjoy your lady's conversation and the food she prepares for you herself.
Bon appetite.‖

* * * *

Eden's gaze swept around the palatial room. Tante had spared no expense, furnishing the ten tables scattered in secluded corners with her finest china, crystal and sterling silverware. Decanted red and white wines stood on nearby shelves or chilled in coolers. Champagne magnums produced from vines brought from France when the French settled Venus, awaited in icy wine buckets. To Eden, those bottles so resembled enormous phalluses she bit her cheeks, holding back an unladylike guffaw.
   Colette winked as Eden strolled by. The sweet girl already bore splashes of marinara on her chef's jacket and her toque had slipped to a rakish angle over one red-gold eyebrow. Her laughter sounded like wind chimes and encouraged her
five patrons to join in her joy.
   Nearing her table, Eden noticed her men— Goddess willing hers—sitting with two native Sednans. Purple stripes ran down the center of their bald heads and appealing faces and vested chests. She'd heard that the stripes ended at their cocks. As manly attractions went, those stripes were certainly intriguing. The men stood, but at her nod, resumed their seats. Sketching a low Venusian bow, Eden greeted them in Sednan and then offered each a beverage of his choice.
   ―Your milk,‖ one Sednan muttered.
   Eden ignored him as she poured champagne into crystal flutes.
   ―Perhaps we should introduce ourselves,‖ said the taller of Eden's men. ―I am Kamal.‖
   ―Kaliq.‖
   It seemed her hearing failed. She couldn't hear the names the other two men muttered. Her men's voices drowned out all other sounds. She managed a smile
,
then served her guests the first course. Cold cuts and vegetables and cheeses soon adorned their plates. She had supervised the aging of the cheeses and had prepared the light berry dressing the men spooned over the vegetables.
   ―All the other cooks—er, chefs—are wearing aprons,‖ Kamal drawled, his deep baritone flowing over her body like honey.
   ―You aren't.‖ Kaliq completed Kamal's sentence, adding in his own seductive voice, ―Not that I mind. That…um…frock is fetching.‖
   Eden smiled and avoided looking down at her breasts. She knew her bustier revealed as much as it concealed. Her multicolored gypsy-style skirt fluttered around her legs when she walked, accenting their shape and length. She'd designed and made the outfit herself, intending to wear it on this momentous night. All in all she was pleased with her appearance—especially with her hair.
That
she'd piled atop her head and coaxed tendrils to droop around her ears. Her mirrors reflected an elegant and poised young woman, her almond-shaped eyes glittering with excitement.
   ―I am a very neat chef,
messieurs.‖
Seeing the men had finished the antipasto, she eased away their plates
,
then refilled their flutes. For several minutes, they talked about their work, but none mentioned where they came from. Well…the Sednans' markings gave them away, but the other two… Eden found herself making up stories as to where their home world was. At last she eased delicate veal scallops into her sauté pan
,
then mixed the fettuccini into the pan containing her own version of Alfredo sauce. She served, awaiting their reactions.
   All her guests ate with gusto. She suspected the Sednans would have devoured anything she put on their plates. Kamal and Kaliq chewed slowly, seeming to enjoy every bite. She wondered if they would enjoy chewing on her. Her knees went weak as she imagined the three of them on her wide bed, dining on each other's bodies.
   ―This Alfredo is thicker than others I've tasted,‖ Kaliq observed before licking a dab of sauce from the corners of his lips.
   Kamal nodded. ―Delicious…and thick. Is there a reason for the textural difference?‖
   ―C
ertainement.‖
Tante grinned broadly at Eden's guests. ―Whoever at this table bids the highest may either lick the sauce from Eden's body. Or…he may have her lick it from his.‖
   For several moments Tante's statement left them all speechless. At last one Sednan complained, ―Yet another bid!‖ With that, the two left Eden's table.
   Eden's melodious laugh drew Kaliq's and Kamal's gazes. ―Tante did warn them the process is lengthy,‖ she said.
   ―Not to mention expensive,‖ Kaliq complained good-naturedly.
   ―And fattening,‖ Kamal added, patting his flat belly. He nodded at one vacant chair
, t
hen pulled it out for Eden.
   Noting the other courtesans were seated, Eden joined her men.
   ―Consider yourselves fortunate. When Tante premiered,
her t
ante made the bids cumulative.‖
   The men whistled.
   ―May I ask you a question?‖ She watched her men nod, then lowered her gaze to her own hands. Of their own volition, her fingers fidgeted with her silverware. Linking her fingers, she folded her hands in her lap and looked up. ―Why me? I mean when this started you both seemed to favor Azura. So why did you stay with me?‖
   Kaliq's blush was deeper than Kamal's, but even under their bronzed skin, she saw the blushes clearly. Kamal coughed, meeting her eyes and saying, ―We found you both appealing, but…‖
   ―I initially thought Azura more appealing, but…‖
   ―A man wants to claim his woman not have her—‖
   ―Claim him.‖
   Sensing there was more to the story, Eden waited.
   Kaliq huffed. ―We thought her performance with the ribbon wands lazy.‖
   ―And later we learned she cannot cook.‖
   Eden bit her lower lip. She desperately wanted to laugh, but felt it impolite to do so. Instead she murmured, ―Most courtesans cannot cook, sirs.‖
   ―Then why…why did Tante make such a production out of food? Two competitions devoted to it?‖
   Eden felt her face heat, but held their curious gazes. ―Food—eating—is sensual.‖
   The men's eyes drifted to her breasts defined by her bustier. Her nipples pearled. She could no more hide her attraction to them, the arousal they kindled in her, than she could fly.
   ―Is there really another round of bidding?‖
   Eden looked for Tante. Seeing her brief smile,
Eden said, ―Apparently not for me.‖
   She took their hands. That now-familiar lust jolted through her. Then it felt as though the men banked it somehow. She could still feel it, but was no longer tempted to tear off her clothes and theirs and rut in full view of other diners.

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