The Alexandra Series

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Toppling into the chair ass first, she instantly jerked feeling the seat touch her sore skin.

  “I suppose that hurts,” Will remarked.

  “Like an open wound.”

  “But it’s time to close the wounds, Alex, and get on with things.”

  “You don’t sound all that angry?” she conjectured.

  “This works very well on anger,” he said, staring down at the belt in his hand. He began putting it back around his waist. “You’re going to have to take a cab home because I have some things to finish up here. But don’t fall asleep, I got plans for you.”

  “That’s all?” she asked wearily. Like a plucked flower she wanted to fade from the glory, lie limp and lose herself in an earthy bed of forgetfulness.

  “No, it’s not all. I originally came down here to tell you that I’m flying to New York to work on the book deal.”

  Her eyes sharpened.

  “You did get it!” The smile was soft and grateful.

  “I guess we’ll have to celebrate another time.” He stared at her for a few more seconds. “I think while I’m gone, I’ll have you move into Reggie’s. Behave yourself or he’ll add to the woe on your ass.”

  “Move in? But why?”

  “Because I don’t trust you,” he said simply and he turned away from her.

  “But Will…”

  He turned back, eyes instantly daggers. “Don’t start, or I’ll start over.”

  She bit her lip to hold back her thoughts and watched her husband leave the room. Alex looked to the blond man with the intense blue eyes and felt an uncomfortable lump growing in her throat. Such an arrangement, going back into Reggie’s house could mean a thousand things, not the least of which was a return to the submissive/dominant relationship that always demanded she touch the darkest places in her soul. Certainly Will couldn’t be asking that.

  ***

  Once Alex and Will were in bed together, they fucked like two elements of nature fusing into one. Her crotch melted into his like butter into bread. Theirs was a liquid bath of erotic pleasure, shifting with the changeable moods of making love. When his was forthright and severe, cock in her cunt, she acquiesced. When he lay passive she nurtured his body with a teasing touch running her hands tenderly along his chest, outlining muscles with her fingers, kissing them with her lips, always moving downward to the center, only to return to Will’s handsome face. Alex adored that face with a shower of smiles and an active tongue to play with his hungry lips.

  “I am sorry, that we haven’t been doing this more,” she whispered. Her lazy tongue bathed his mouth. Her fingers combed through his dark hair. Leaning over him, her blonde hair glided over his shoulders like feathers.

  “You’ll get your chance when I get back,” he whispered back. His hand was on her sore ass fondling.

  “Hummm, you don’t know how that feels,” she purred soft.

  “Tight?”

  “Very.”

  That soreness was one of her favorite pleasures. She’d be looking in the mirror at her skin letting the submissive sensations spark her body and thoughts.

  With a finger going between her cheeks, Will found her anus and began to probe.

  “And did I clip you here,” he asked.

  “Ruthlessly,” she advised him, her voice erotically mellow. She started, stopped, jerked and shivered each time his probing went a little deeper.

  “I want you here,” he informed her.

  “I guessed as much,” she replied. Without having to be asked, she turned over in his arms, so they lay on their sides and she pushed her ass into Will’s groin. Opening her thighs enough so he could have an easy target of the rear entry, he slipped into the tenuous place as she felt her body go rigid for an instant and then begin to relax. “Ah, ah yes,” she hissed softly into the pillow. She held her hands together as though they were bound with ropes. And while her husband moved slowly in and out of her ass, she felt pieces of herself falling away. Thoughts disappeared and her mind went blank. The physical jolt of the penetration engaged her body in places often lost to sensation.

  It was Will’s climax to have, she was his to take. And with every second of the gentle anal assault she gave him more until the climax, when she was wholly consumed by him the way his body wrapped around hers, smothering her softly in the covers.

  Snuggled into her natural state of surrender again, Alex slept peacefully that night, except for the nagging memory in the back of her mind that she’d be entering Reggie’s house the next day. The idea might have chilled her bones, except that Will was lying so close to her side that she was still swimming in their peaceful union.

  Chapter Nine

  Jocelyn sat in the tiny room of the German hotel on orders from Ian not to go anywhere.

  “Don’t you budge an inch, darling. As soon as I’m back from my appointment there’s this beer hall we really should experience.”

  As lazy a day as it was, heat climbing in through the windows along with the smells of the city, Jocelyn hardly wanted to move. The bed cozied in around her limbs, providing the comfort of a nurturing cocoon. At least for the moment she’d follow his orders, forgetting about Ian’s overbearing attitude, that might have made her rest uneasy if she’d considered his paranoia over her safety. At least he said it was a safety matter – ‘a woman alone didn’t belong traipsing the streets of a foreign city,’ he’d said. In her gut she knew it was more than that motivating his demand.

  Ian had been gone an hour and she was dozing when she heard a gentle rapping on the door. Hastily grabbing for her robe, she answered the knock seeing a petite German woman before her wearing nothing but a short silk robe, draping dangerously low in front. Jocelyn’s eyes were immediately drawn to her chest where she could see the soft sides of the woman’s breasts looking like translucent gelatin jiggling daintily against the rustling silk. A whiff of the woman’s ripe perfume greeted her, the sensation moving rapidly downward in her body.

  “May I come in?”

  The visit was a surprise but the woman not unwelcome. Jocelyn recognized her as the hotel manager. She’s already guessed that this was not a normal hotel. Ian refused to let her call it a brothel even with the numbers of scantily clad ladies that could be found at all hours in the hotel corridors.

  “It’s a perfectly respectable inn,” Ian insisted. “I’ve know the dear woman that owns the place for years.”

  The young woman before her was that owner’s daughter.

  “Ian said you’d be alone and might want some company,” she said.

  “How thoughtful,” Jocelyn replied opening the door wide.

  “Dagne,” she introduced herself, “I know you’re Jocelyn.” Briefly as she said her name, she reached out to touch Jocelyn’s red hair, admiringly. Her own was black as coal, cut short and sticking up around her head in a disorderedly array that was quite charming in an artsy way. There was thick black mascara on her eyes. Her lips were painted peach. And though her facial features were small if you bothered to really look at them, she seemed all eyes and mouth, all wide-eyed wonder and smiles.

  When she stepped into the room, Jocelyn noted a wine bottle and two glasses in one hand.

  “Isn’t it a little early?” Jocelyn asked, thinking that her stomach was a little sour yet from all the wine the night before.

  “It’s nearly noon,” she said. “Besides it cures everything from broken hearts and loneliness to a hangover.”

  There was no telling the woman ‘no’, so Jocelyn accepted the glass she poured and then wondered how she could properly entertain her guest. With the room so small, there was no place to sit but her bed. Both ended up on the messy covers, Jocelyn with her legs crossed like an Indian, Dagne leaning in against Jocelyn’s pillows. Feeling the rays of sun beat in through the open window the heat was torrid.

  “You know it’s going to be stifling in here if you don’t close this,” Dagne said, handing her wine glass to Jocelyn and turning around to draw the drapes.

 
; “I was enjoying the morning.”

  “But with less intensity, perhaps,” Dagne concluded. “Have you been to Germany before?”

  “Many times,” she said.

  “And with Ian?”

  “Twice now. This visit, then a long time ago.”

  “You speak the language?”

  “Hardly a word,” she replied. She sensed the woman’s frame of mind, that she was figuring this a relevant way to spend idle hours. Curled up and cozy on Jocelyn’s bed, she showed her thin thighs, their supple flesh and without modesty how her pussy was clothed in a bush of black curls.

  Dagne’s breath was sweet and her hands warm. When she reached out to open Jocelyn’s robe the act seemed so natural that Jocelyn didn’t stop her. Fast forwarding in her mind to the possibilities before her, she could imagine making love to this impish fraulein without much effort. With Ian becoming increasingly more rough with her, the thought of pillow soft skin and silken hair and the scent of a pussy at her face made her burn quietly inside herself.

  “Have you ever had a man leave marks on your breasts?” Dagne asked her as she ran her fingers over Jocelyn’s white skin. With a little perspiration having gathered under the full round of flesh, she drew her finger back and tasted the salty residue.

  “My husband has,” Jocelyn replied to her.

  “You have a husband and a lover? How naughty.” She giggled. “And your husband dominates you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “And he’s ruthless with a cane?”

  “Sometimes that, too.” Dagne’s questions made her remember what she was missing from Reggie, both in darkness and in tenderness.

  “I’d give anything to have one man solely focused on my sexual satisfaction,” she sighed softly looking a little weary. “But to have two…”

  “Though perhaps I don’t have a husband anymore,” Jocelyn pondered the possibility aloud.

  “That must be why you’re so sad,” Dagne observed. She leaned into Jocelyn’s chest and raising one breast with her hand, kissed it lightly, repeatedly, until Jocelyn’s pink nipple stiffened into a tiny ball.

  “I look sad to you?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Perhaps melancholy.”

  Sitting again, Dagne opened her robe letting Jocelyn take in the sight of the her breasts. Though hers were not as robust as Jocelyn’s they were full and round with large dark aureoles and small brown nipples. What was most stunning were the plainly visible stripes cut into the skin by some thin implement laid on with force. A half dozen criss-crossed the side of one breast, at least four appeared near the top of the other.

  “You can touch them,” she said.

  Jocelyn’s hand quivered doing what her desire beckoned. She ran her nails along the chastened flesh, thinking of how Dagne must have trembled waiting for her lover to strike with that biting implement.

  “Who did this to you?” she asked.

  “A man with a heavy hand for sexual domination,” she replied.

  “Your lover?”

  “No. The man I love never leaves marks. But sometimes I need them.”

  “I’d like to strike blows like that myself.”

  “Or have yours marked, perhaps?” Dagne guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “And your ass?”

  “My husband’s fond of brutalizing my behind,” Jocelyn confessed.

  “And that’s why you left him?”

  “No.” She was feeling sad, thinking of the way Reggie often loved her with such a malevolent fervor she’d have her own marks to bear for days.

  “Ian would do this for you,” Dagne said.

  “I know,” Jocelyn replied, knowing that they’d just not gotten around to everything. So far on this trip they were too busy hopping from place to place to take the time for the sexual depravities of canes on flesh. Though this new hostel might change all that.

  Jocelyn pulled Dagne’s robe away and tugged it off her shoulders so her torso was naked, awaiting the touch of her hands. The two lay back on the bed, breast to breast. Their mouths met, opening wide with tongues tasting traces of femininity along their lips and down their chins. Taking turns skimming the fine surfaces of pampered skin they became acquainted with the breathy pleasured exclamations each time their lust spasmed deep. When they tossed their robes aside, their limbs wound together into a puzzle, and the tufts of hair between their legs, one red, one black, got entangled in the other. Rubbing crotches in their locked embrace made their pussies hot. Throbbing on the inside, Jocelyn felt for Dagne’s wet center and pressed two fingers inside. The dark-haired woman winced. “Bring me off,” she cried softly out of her delighted stupor. Jocelyn felt the squeezing of her active muscles pumping her as a cock might. Dagne’s cunt opened wide to have more fingers driving into her. With it so wet, Jocelyn slipped more of her hand inside the pungent body cavity, surprised to find that the slight young woman could take all of her hand, the entire fist inside that space.

  “Ooo Yes, fuck me,” she screamed an adamant throaty command.

  Jocelyn drove her hand until she reached the very end of the woman’s hot cunt. Arching her back, Dagne grabbed her clit with her fingers and rocked on the invading hand until she achieved her peak. There was an instant of pause when neither woman moved, a tangible shudder when Dagne convulsed, and then the woman’s aftermath. A tiny scream and a gentle rocking with Jocelyn still inside her. At last she set her hips back down on the bed and whimpered to the end as the redhead withdrew from her.

  Dagne came out of her erotic daze refreshed, so much so, she surprised Jocelyn making the redhead turn over so she could maul her ass.

  “A fresh fuck always inspires me,” she mewed softly in Jocelyn’s ear. She raised the redhead’s hips from the bed, and parted her cleft to have a peek at the puckering back door. “I hear you like it here,” she said, with one finger slipped inside the tight space. Leaning in to the moist warmth of Jocelyn’s cleft, she toyed with the cunt and the ass hole so expertly that Jocelyn opened her thighs wider to accommodate the eager woman. While several fingers probed her pussy, Dagne’s tongue began to rim the nether hole, then press its way inside.

  The shock was instantaneous to her system. Her desire immediately soared and she threw off any inhibitions, knowing that she wanted to have the sexy Dagne servicing her asshole like the slut she was. Her thoughts were crude and nasty, her body all about getting off. “Fuck me there,” she demanded, and the obliging Dagne moved on her with both fingers and tongue. Soon, what had been gentle became more brisk and daring, two fingers led to four with the woman beating her asshole with her hand. But the black-haired siren wasn’t content to see Jocelyn enjoy a hasty finish. With a decent degree of sadist in her, she withdrew her fucking digits and spanked Jocelyn’s ass hole and the buttery mounds beside it.

  The redhead moaned, agonized by the savageness of the assault, and weeping for more. Dagne gave her more with her fingers jabbing inside her, bringing fresh tears to Jocelyn’s eyes and a climax to her quivering crotch. For a long moment afterwards the sated Jocelyn rested oblivious to the change going on around her.

  “So, did you have her like I asked you to?”

  Ian.

  He was in the room chattering away while Jocelyn was still trying to recall where she was, and who’d just given her such amazing pleasure. Both she had Dagne were still languishing in the sensuous ending, and found the man a unwanted invasion of their privacy. Jocelyn smiled up at him.

  “Did she see the marks I left on you, Dagne?” he asked.

  “She likes them,” Dagne responded.

  “That’s good.” He smiled.

  “So, is that what this is about?” Jocelyn chimed in. “You didn’t have the balls to ask me about these things yourself. Frankly, I thought you knew.”

  “These are delicate matters. But then it gave me a good reason to give my German mistress a few punishing shots.”

  “You marked her so I’d notice?”

  “And you enjoyed them,” he sai
d triumphantly.

  “You’re a bloody demon!” she charged.

  “And you’re a scandalous brat,” he came right back. “Get on with you, will you, Dagne. My lover here and I have things to discuss.”

  “So you just use me!” Dagne spat, irritated. She pulled away from Jocelyn. “If I find her here again alone I’ll use my whole hand in her ass. You know she had hers in my pussy?”

  “Did you now?” Ian looked at his green-eyed lover with a noticeable degree of admiration. “Are you as dominant as you are submissive?”

  “My female lover at home says so.”

  “Huh?” He was confounded.

  “You’ve got a full plate with this one, Ian,” Dagne interjected as she moved toward the door to leave. “Wouldn’t want to lose her.” As Dagne sauntered away, Jocelyn could see more clearly the marks that Ian had laid on her back and bottom. A moment later, she’d disappeared from view.

  Turning her attention back to Ian, Jocelyn took in the odd manic spirit that appeared in his eyes, feeling simultaneously thrilled and frightened by the jolt it gave her.

  “I bet your ass hurts,” he said pulling her over in his lap and inspecting the mild damages to her anal cleft.

  “It does,” she confirmed. Falling from his knees, she grabbed for her robe, not ready for more sex.

  “That’s good. Make it even better when I use you tonight.”

  “You think you’ll use me?” She was turning icy on the inside, not icy as in frigid, but icy as in aloof and distant. Cold as in disdainful. She wondered why, knowing immediately that she hated being manipulated, except of course when it was Reggie. She’d always accepted his underhanded exploits with her as breathless wonders. Despite the fact that she’d enjoyed sex with Dagne, this incident was nothing like those amazing times.