Now that Warner will be out for awhile, it's back to the main couple. Iris and Jon have such a fabulous love life who can resist them? XD

Chapter Twenty-Five

Erotic Enlightenment

The first thing she received when she arrived at Arkham the next morning was a chorus of laughs and cheers. Iris pretended not to know what all the fuss was about, but nevertheless she put on a smile and asked, "What's everyone so happy about?"

One of her patients, a woman named Wendy, responded with barely contained giggles. "You haven't seen the video on the internet, Doctor? It's been all over since last night."

"What video?" She hoped her face showed the façade of innocence as she wanted it to.

"That video of your fiancée, the professor. He got…shocked by a stripper he brought home for a romp. Perhaps to have some last nights as a single man before you guys get married."

"By shocked, she means that the masked dancer had her underpants underwired with electrical currents and left him in a coma. I heard he's in the hospital for his treatment. The university gave him leave until he submerged," called out another male patient accompanied by two guards on his way to therapy.

Just that news being music to her ears. Warner was out like a circuit thanks to Jervis' genius device, for a week at most but no more. As the old saying goes, "you'll be out for a week". She giggled as she headed for her office with a smirk on her face as she imagined no having to deal with Warner for a week. But that also meant having to proceed with the wedding plans while he was out. Farnsworth had called her and said that he would stop by and help her begin the preparations even if he didn't like it any more than she did.

When she got there, Joan was waiting for her, again. She had made a habit of doing that a lot whenever she came in, even though her shift wasn't for another half hour. She was beginning to show her belly, the outline of four months bulging through her petal pink blouse. In her free hand that wasn't cradling her baby bump was a pink bag that could only be… "Joan, that cannot be Victoria's Secret lingerie," Iris moaned as she drew her keys and stuck the one to her office in the lock.

The other doctor gave her a mischievous grin. "I'm sorry, Iris, but it is."

Iris felt the reaction come faster than one of her precious toxin chemicals as she pulled out the lingerie piece. The bra was ivory overlaid with black lace while the bottom piece was a lacy mini-skirt that rose higher to the tops of the thighs. "Oh, Joan, what the hell am I going to use this for?"

"For Jonathan," she answered with a wily grin. "The chick selling this told me this was a 'love potion', to draw him under your spell more than he already is."

"Really, I do not need another set -"

There was a knock on her door that made them both jump. "Come in," Iris called, quickly shoving the lingerie back into the bag and hiding it in the middle drawer of her desk. The door opened and in walked Farnsworth. "Oh, Jim, it's you."

He gave her a warm smile. "What, were you expecting that old fool Warner?" he asked with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Last I heard of him was that he was in the hospital for what happened on that video." He gave her a knowing smirk. She returned it.

"You saw that?"

"Got over sixty million hits on YouTube, from what I heard from the gossiping little ladies of the office. Got what he deserved and never saw it coming. And that was very smart of you to hide your face, except I knew who you were," he said, his face showing flushes of red of embarrassment.

"Don't be ashamed, Jim," Iris assured him. "That was all part of the plan, after all. Speaking of plans…" She didn't want to say it, so she let the sentence hang. He nodded in understanding.

"Oh, well, yes. Maria's last will was to have the same plans for you as hers. I know this isn't what you want, but…"

"Another part of Warner's ultimate humiliation," Iris finished with a dark glitter in her eyes.

~o~

Jonathan smirked as he took one last look at the sweet alcoholic beverages he'd made for Iris and himself as soon as they arrived home but saved for after dinner. Since Warner was in the hospital and they were safe for a week at most, he'd done the job of treating her like a queen for the time being. Not that he hadn't done it before; this time they needed to spare as much as possible before the old man awoke out of his coma. Make it last while you can.

She sat on the kitchen counter in a long, elegant slip of teal silk and a black lace bodice, her hair loose down her back as she watched him prepare the ginger peach margaritas - pureed with fresh peaches, ginger syrup, lime juice, and tequila - and bring over their glasses, handing hers to her and then raising his for a silent toast. Since margaritas were strong on tequila and sometimes rum, they went rather slow with sipping, but nevertheless the alcohol began to take its effect on both their minds until there was nothing else to dwell on but each other. Jonathan found himself leaning against her chest, feeling her arms wrap around his shoulders as she pulled him close to her so he could listen to her heartbeat and smell the argan oils on her skin…and caress the silkiness of her breasts with his lips. Unable to help himself, he let his hand ghost up her leg and vanish under her skirt so he could find the destination of her womanhood and slip inside to feel her moisture start to warm like a hot tub.

He wasn't sure how they ended up where they were now - clothes torn off to show all skin and anatomy, nude bodies frantically grasping for each other - but he didn't care. He wanted her now, tonight, and for the rest of the week and their time together before…God, he forgot who their enemy was for the moment, but it would return later…and then he was aware that he was sitting in one of the grand chairs of the dining room, surrounded by the luxury of France, and Iris was straddling him in a way he didn't recall being positioned before, but the feel of her posterior side clamped tighter around his shaft was exhilarating - his hardened member was straddled as she leaned back slightly, placing her hands on his knees. Her lovely legs were extended as each of her ankles rested on his shoulders, and pumped herself back and forth with speed that rose and fell and made sure that they both moaned like never before. The thrusting was supercharged in time with the balance between her weight and her ankles…and the work of his free hand on her exposed entrance brought forth magic with the resulting climax that spiced up the post-coital bliss. Both collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily and sustaining only minor bruises, the chair creaking only slightly on the floor, and the heavy weight of the margaritas in their systems beginning to take toll. Iris managed to lift her head up to him and give him a small grin through her damp hair that fell before her eyes.

"I should call in sick tomorrow. I won't be able to get up from this floor tonight."

Jonathan gave her a lazy chuckle and brushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I should, too. I won't be able to walk tomorrow…after I have more rounds with you."

~o~

Barb at the reception had sounded a little suspicious when Iris called in sick for the day but she didn't question her. While Iris didn't have the strongest feelings for the receptionist since day one on her first day at the asylum under Jonathan, she was happy to know that she wouldn't dare question Iris DeLaine if she wanted to consider the consequences. So in other words, it was safe for Iris to spend the day and recover from the minor hangover from the previous night - hangover minus the memory loss. The positive side was that the alcohol brought out the more fun and adventurous side for her to do those new moves she'd done the previous night. The Kama Sutra had said about that particular position, known as the lap dance - not the kind in a strip club where the guy got oral works from the exotic dancer he was tipping - had unmatched intimacy potential. How many people were even seen this close? As quoted, this primo erotic view will give your guy fantasy material for weeks to come. Spice it up with some extra-special lingerie that you can seductively toss to turn him on to add even more steam to this sack session. The latter she'd done with help during the margarita session, and it lured him onto her indefinitely.

Well, as soon as this headache was gone and Jonathan's, she planned to do that again and use another round of tantric sex to tease, tempt, and thoroughly please him for the whole rest of the day. Except the mood when she awoke naked next to an equally nude Jonathan on the dining room floor earlier had been ruined when a certain redheaded vixen walked in on them and startled them to the point of explosion.

"Pamela, what the hell?!" Jonathan had shouted, bolting up to cover himself up. He'd darted his head around the room to find where he'd discarded his clothing until he found them strewn about, crawling over to grab his black-and-white checkered shirt. "Don't you knock?!"

Ivy had shrugged casually as she leaned against the doorway, chewing softly on a red apple she'd pulled out from the fridge. "I'm sorry, but it's nothing I hadn't seen before, you know. I do it with Harley every day and night."

"Oh, please don't spill the details." Iris hadn't been as angry or humiliated as Jonathan was, but she still had to retrieve her nightgown and hide her modesty and glance over to Jonathan, who had buttoned his shirt up and bent over for his jeans and underwear, where she'd had a view of his tight, round backside. She had giggled to herself and left the dining room, walking past the redhead and scowling at her with disapproval before heading to the downstairs bathroom to retrieve some aspirin and then call in. She'd heard Jonathan do the same to the library and put his second new assistant in his place for the day.

There was the indescribable smell of breakfast, one of which she could tell was eggs. When she walked into the kitchen, wearing her favorite robe over her latest lingerie set for later on, there was Harley at the stove, wearing another revealing costume - why wouldn't she even listen when Iris made it clear that this was her house and not Harley's - that was a black-and-white mesh polka dot bustier with underwire cups, red satin ribbon lacing up the front, and a ruffled hem over a garter G-string and sheer black tight stockings. Poor Jonathan had his eyes lowered the whole time the harlequin cooked breakfast for them to a glass of a pale peach-colored smoothie drink, but Pamela was eyeing her the way she always did, with a short-lingering suggestive wink. Iris walked into the site just in time for Harley to yell out. "Well, Blue, whaddya think? I made a fine feast for the morning! Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and chives, peach pie smoothies -" Really, peach pie with breakfast? Almost too good to be true. "- cinnamon buns, and Spanish omelets with Romesco sauce!"

Breakfast was literally a feast for them. The scrambled eggs had been made in less than six minutes, followed by Harley folding smoked salmon within the cheery yellow mess and finally brightening them with crisp, fresh chives and a subtle onion flavor. As it turned out, the peach smoothies were heavenly to the point of making you want to end breakfast right there. The comforting aroma of spicy cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled between layers of the homemade cinnamon buns could bring even the deepest sleepers scurrying to the breakfast table. Last of all, Harley had used the flavors of Spain in the omelets - Iberico ham, Manchego cheese and spicy tomato-pepper Romeso sauce - for his twist on the classic omelet. Iris heaved a sigh of relief when she'd finished, the weight of the feast in her delicate little stomach too much to handle, and it made her wonder if she could ever manage another round with Jonathan.

She finally settled on lying with Jonathan in the sitting area, just the two of them, while Ivy and Harley were off elsewhere for more "alone time", him lying in just his plaid shirt from yesterday and a pair of boxer shorts, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to him. He spooned up against her, throwing one leg around her to entrap her in his embrace. Iris moaned as the warm heat of his body filled her insides with the same temperature. She'd known this man for over ten years, and it was so easy for him to make her feel this way about him.

Then she remembered something from the "good book": This is the perfect way to wake him up: Lie on your sides with him behind you so you're both facing the same direction. Push your buttocks toward him and guide him into you. Put your hand on his and show him how you want your clitoris to be touched. Have him alternate between there and your breasts.

That "saucy spoon" could always be alternated. Not that Iris minded anal sex, but she'd already done it last night and felt like a change right now. Using her free hand, she undid the sash at her waist and flipped open her robe to reveal her latest teddy - this illicit mystic black piece with a sheer mesh body and a floral lace bikini bottom, the bust of thicker lace and unlined underwire cups. She took his hand that rested on her thigh and brought it over that place, trailing upwards so that it was rested over her clothed core, slipping between the tiny slit where her clitoris was hidden behind the thicket but exposed to the air and his touch. She moaned at the sensations of the act, but then in disapointment when he withdrew his finger from there and moved up the path of her stomach to her left breast, fondling it gently. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and rolled over on her other side so she faced him, supporting her head with her hand as she used the other to push the slit of her bottom open to give him more access and pull out more of her into the open. His eyes hazed at the sight as he, too, fished out his own sex through the front opening of his boxers and proceeded to slip into the heated interior of her pleasure and began to thrust into her gently as they were on the couch and he didn't want to shove her off by mistake or on purpose. She wrapped her leg around his waist, hooking it around him to keep a good hold as she brought her hand on that side up to wound in his hair as she brought him down for a kiss.

Then there was the sound of a throat being cleared. "Oh, I'm sorry, but uh, Blue?" Iris shrieked as she bolted out of her lover's embrace and toppled onto the floor, accidentally banging her head on the edge of the coffee table and getting a minor migraine. Jonathan, on the other hand, sat up fast and tucked himself back into his shorts with haste.

"Harley, what the hell?! Are you just walking in on other couples now?!" he bellowed, angrier than he was at Pamela earlier. "Why couldn't you have just waited until we were done?!"

She looked at him with an innocent grin. "I have something to show Blue. If you mind."

"Oh, why not?" Iris recovered from her fall faster than expected and stood up to follow her out of the living room. She noticed now that Harley had donned a tight red tee and black shorts that rose high above the knees, thankful that she didn't have anymore of her revealing teddies for awhile. "Care to tell me what's so important that you had to interrupt our -"

She was cut off when Harley flourished something before her eyes. Her jaw dropped at once. The chemise was a luxurious red satin that shimmered brighter than any ruby in the world, the bodice black lace with red cups that showed through and complement the breasts. With it was a matching red robe. "Oh, no, this can't be my style…" she tried to object.

"Oh, tush," Harley brushed. "You really don't get this, do you, Blue? This is perfect to spice up the act. You've never worn red before, not counting your date night with you-know-who, so at least try this. You'll find I was right." She winked. Iris glared at her as she took the garment.

"Does this mean I get to try this now, just when I'm already gussed and ready?" she asked, motioning to her current ensemble. Harley stared at it for a second before throwing her head back and laughing.

"Not at all. I would recommend…later on when you tuck him into bed," she answered with a suggestive wink of the eye.

~o~

Hot water mingled with the silky soft suds of his Chinese shampoo and rolled down his body, which responded with a higher temperature than the water - at least in his mind and down below his waist - prompting him to reach for the Divine Nectar, flavored luscious, creamy vanilla with a hint of orange citrus, and popped the top so he could slick a fingerload onto the tip of himself. His body again responded the same way as before, but with more pleasurable jolts of electricity. He moaned as he masturbated in the open air that was his shower, surrounded by a surreal nature at its finest. He felt like the bird of his namesake in its very own Japanese serenity. Calm and free and at peace, with nothing and no one to interfere.

The whole time he touched himself, standing under the "rainfall", he thought of Iris and how they've been through so much lately. The rings and Sylvia's letter and everything else prior to that made him reconsider how he was living his lifestyle with her. He loved everything about her, enough said, but there was more that he wanted. He didn't want her to be just his lover and soulmate…he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted her as his wife.

But Warner came first, and they both knew it.

Once he finished himself off - self-pleasuring and shower wise - he turned it off and stepped out, padding across the floor on bare feet for his towel on the screen, drying off eagerly and ready for bed.

However, he had not expected to see the surprise on his bed.

"Iris," he said, surprised at her surprise show, remembering their first night together at her grandmother's place. She was now displaying this same need for temptation…and she was tempting him while he was naked in front of her eyes, and while she was in this sexy chemise and robe set he'd never seen before. The luxurious red satin flushed against her ivory skin while the black lace over her breasts - which were outlined by the red cups shown through the sheer fabric - shimmered with her free-tumbling locks.

And then he saw it: that short, round jar of creamy brown…Lover's Body Paint. The product used for those who were tempted by their more…creative side. He smirked as it dawned on him where his woman was heading with this. And that dress…it had to have been Harley's idea, given she'd been pulled away from him earlier.

She raised an eyebrow at him, then puckered her lips - which he then noticed were painted a darker but soft pink - in a sexy pout at him. "Well, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to come to bed?" Those words were all it took for him to saunter over and climb on top of her in his bed, but her hands on his chest stopped him.

Jonathan furrowed his brows as he regarded her with confusion. "Iris?"

"On your back." He obeyed without question, still staring up at her. "Jonathan, I realize that this right here…" She held up the brown jar. "…is something we haven't tried yet, and I'm talking about…creativity," she told him with a wink. "Which means that I get to be in control again here, and enjoy painting your body with artwork from my fingers…" She wiggled her black-tipped nails in his face, making him laugh. "…and then…" She leaned forward to capture his lips with hers, and he tasted sweet strawberries. "…kiss and taste every inch of you." He groaned at the images conjured up, the blood rushing through him like lava in the mountain's core and going straight to his groin. His hardness picked up and pointed at her, pressing against her bared core under her skirt.

It wasn't long until Iris began to get to work on him as she said she would. The paint smelled like sweet and creamy milk chocolate to his nostrils, from his front to his back and even when she opened the jar. He was turned over onto his back, his member pressing into the bed; he longed to touch himself, but it was difficult because Iris was creating a masterpiece on his back that he couldn't tell from how he was lying facedown. He uttered a moan when she continued down over his buttocks, fingers and the rich creamy paint doing things to his skin that still surprised him after all those countless nights. Her lips and tongue followed, leaving sensual gestures of liquid warmth like the various warm teas Jervis was fond of obsessively brewing. He was then turned over his front, where she continued to give him the same treatment, and this time he had a view of her artworks. On his chest she created the outlines of his body features on those very parts of him, everything from his chest to his stomach and pelvic region…and finally his manhood, where the feel of her soft lips wrapped around him caused him to really gasp and shudder and nearly arch off the bed. He was melting, melting away at the feeling…her lip fetishes indulging him greatly in a torrent of oral pleasures…

"No…" he moaned when he unwillingly but gently pushed her off of him just as he was on the verge of coming. "I don't…I can't come, not yet…"

She smirked and moved upwards, raising her arms up a little for him to removed both her chemise and robe in one piece and toss them to the foot of the bed. She still knelt between his legs, lowering herself onto him so that they were touching. Keeping her knees on the bed, she curled her feet around the inside of his legs, mainly around his knees. Jonathan smiled up at her as he gazed into her hazy sapphire eyes while she leaned forward and grabbed the bed sheets on either side of his head. While holding the sheets - and her feet wrapped around Jonathan's calves - she tilted her pelvis and moved around him in small, tight motions, and Jonathan knew for sure that he was going to get a good night's sleep tonight.

No one has said anything to me about this, but I thought I should clear this: I'm not forcing love scenes in any way; they're what helps guide as well as to "tease and tempt". ;) That's another main point of the story which is also a message of the Kama Sutra: unlock the secrets to passion and desire.