Mardi Gras Girls, Exhibitionism, and a Business Proposition in New Orleans

You don’t need to have read “Three J’s and an S go Skiing” to understand this story. It stands by itself. I do not like writing sequels because they often go down dead ends and wind up being disappointing. I am therefore treating this as fresh story and will make no significant references to the original.

This is a pretty tame story and centers primarily around female exhibitionism, which is pretty rampant during the final weeks of Mardi Gras. If you are looking for more than that, go to one of my other stories.

This story is also very long and starts kind of slow. I know that I should have probably broken it up into at least three chapters, but there is no place where the storyline truly breaks. To those of you who complain that some of my posts are too long, I apologize. To those who complain that all of my posts are too short, you should be very happy with this.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Sara walked out of the kitchen where she was doing her final cleanup for the evening and shouted down the hallway of the condo, “J’s, it’s almost time. I have the computer set up in the TV room. Ron said he was calling at ten o’clock”

The Three J’s walked quickly down the hallway to the TV room. The laptop had been set up on the coffee table, which had been pulled a little farther away from the couch than normal. That way everyone could see the screen, and the webcam in the lid of the laptop would pick up everyone on the couch.

Judy sat in the middle of the couch because it was her computer, and it was her boyfriend, Ron, who had texted her earlier in the day asking if the Three J’s and an S could be available for a conference call tonight. He said that a friend of his had a proposition about spring break that they might be interested to hear.

Because it was her boyfriend who would be calling, Judy was wearing her favorite nightwear. It was a light blue, baby doll nightie that was almost totally transparent. It was also one of Ron’s favorites, and if this were a private call between just her and Ron, she would have left off the bra and panties that were a part of the set, but since this was a conference call and Kevin would most likely also be present, she was a little more covered up.

Julie sat to Judy’s left. Kevin was Julie’s boyfriend and a classmate of Ron’s. Both young men were pre-med students which The Three J’s and an S had met the winter before during a very interesting skiing vacation. Julie was also wearing a nightie, but it was nowhere near as transparent as the one Judy was wearing, and the bra and panties were satin and much closer to the size of a more modest bikini than the wisps of fabric that barely covered Judy’s breasts and pubic area. In fact, the bottoms were practically granny panties.

Joan sat on the other side of Judy and was also wearing some of her favorite nightwear - a long T-shirt style nightgown. It had a rainbow and an image of a winged, white unicorn on it and looked like it came from the little girls department... unless you looked closely at the saddle on the unicorn. It was rather strangely shaped and black, with a pink ridge that ran most of the length of the saddle at the very top. In very ornate rainbow lettering beneath the unicorn it said, “Soar with Sybian,” a reference to the female masturbation machine that was the vibrator of all vibrators.

Joan had purchased a Sybian for Sara following their ski trip last winter. It was “an engagement gift.” During their ski vacation, Joan and Sara had finally discovered and admitted to themselves and the world what almost everyone around them had already recognized for a long time, that Joan and Sara were very much attracted to each other in a loving D/s relationship.

Joan, Judy and Julie had been friends since they were born. Their parents were friends and business partners in many different endeavors. Judy’s family was “old money,” and her father spent his time managing the family fortune, which meant keeping on top of a wide mix of companies and parent companies in which he was majority stockholder. Julie’s family was “not-quite-so-old money,” and her father was the CEO of one of the parent companies. Joan’s family was still considered “new money” even though it had been her great-grandfather who had started the family legal dynasty. Her father was Chief Legal Counsel for the parent company that Julie’s father ran, as well as several other companies. This was in addition to his private practice which was extensive, but mostly handled by other lawyers in his offices.

The trill of the computer brought The Three J’s attention to the screen. Judy reached forward and tapped a key and Ron’s face appeared on the screen. “Everybody there?” he asked.

“We’re all here,” answered Judy. “Sara is still futzing around in the kitchen, but she can hear us.”

As if to prove that, a voice came from the kitchen, “Hi Ron.”

Ron laughed and said, “Hi Sara.” Then he coughed slightly and said, “I know that we had talked about going down Florida for spring break, but Ace here has a proposition that I think you might want to hear.”

“Ace?” responded all three J’s at the same time.

“Alowishus Carlton Eastland,” answered Ron. Then a deep voice from alongside him added, “The fourth.”

After a quick laugh, the voice added, “But my friends call me ‘Ace,’”

“His dad runs a business in... I’ll let him explain.”

Ron stepped out of the image and a very handsome, very large, very black man took his place.

He looked out from the screen at The Three J’s and said, “I can see that I surprised you. I often have that effect on people. When you hear ‘Alowishus Carlton Eastland’ you expect some white, British dude.”

“Let me explain myself. My great-great-grandfather was part of the first Jamacian slave rebellion in 1832. He was just a kid, but after the British troops finally restored order, he would have been executed with the rest of them except that two Baptist missionaries took him away with them to New Orleans.”

He pronounced it “Nawlins,” which indicated that he was probably from there, or near there.

“The two missionaries had been preaching abolition, so they couldn’t go back to the island and they stayed on for a while in New Orleans. While they were there, they registered him as a ‘freeman,’ meaning that he was a freed slave. That sort of thing was totally accepted in New Orleans in those days.”

“He married a free woman, and when my great-grandfather was born, he named him after the two preachers, Brother Alowishus, and Brother Carlton. Slaves didn’t have last names, but he knew that his mother always said that they were from ‘the East Lands,” so he chose that as a last name.”

Ace looked down rather sheepishly and continued in a somewhat softer voice. “There was another reason for the name. It was sort of a joke that the white folk wouldn’t get. He told my grand daddy that ‘The only way a spade can ever make it in this white world is to be the Ace of Spades.’”

He smiled and said, “I’m the fourth Ace in the family.”

“I can tell from your expressions, you don’t get the joke either,” he added. “In a way, that’s good. And if you ask me to explain, I’ll just get up on my high horse and go on about it for way too long. For now, let’s just say that ‘Calling a Spade a Spade’ has nothing to do with a shovel and I’ll explain it all to you some other time. For now we have a business proposition to talk about. OK?”

“Fine,” answered Judy.

“You may have guessed that I’m from New Orleans. You ever been to Bourbon Street?”

Surprisingly it was Julie who said “Yes.” Joan and Judy shook their heads no.

“Ever seen ‘The Three Jacks’ nightclub?

“I don’t remember it.” answered Julie. “We drove through with my parents a long time ago when I was just a little kid.”

Ace laughed. “Most people don’t remember it even if they walk through as an adult. The full name of the club is ‘The Three Jacks and an Ace.’ It’s a corner place near

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THE END