The Mistress and the Mouse

by JJ Giles

  Caroline gasped, her chest heaving to sustain her. It was the first truly visible reaction to anything Dan desired for her. Even as he watched Brian’s knuckles go white with the force exerted there, he could see the muscles in her arms tighten, knowing she was holding to Brian’s genitalia. He was about to come himself.

  Brian released that breast flushed with blood. Slowly, he raised the other. Again the shaft circled as if the prey were awaiting it. Again the dagger drove deep only to illicit a moan of such undeniable longing out of the woman.

  Idly, Dan reached out and pulled at the soft down covering her mound. He’d always preferred them bald, but never had the courage to tell her about it. And since she never offered... But until he met Morgan, he never looked at the world as dominant and submissive. He pulled a few of those lovely strands from their hiding places as he watched his breasts released, now impaled.

  Without offering any approval or disappointment, Dan commanded, “For now I want her completely restrained, and I want all of this gone.” Eagerly, he tugged a few more hairs out.

  “Yes, My Lord,” Brian whispered. He turned to the bed for the satin rope. A little short to get too fancy, Brian thought, yet he returned quickly, divided it and laid it across her neck. Crossed over her chest, it wrapped around her back, again snugged under her breasts. Tenderly, he secured the ends around opposite wrists. Only then did he turn her so his Master could inspect his work.

  “On the bed, my dear,” Dan ordered.

  Hurriedly, she went to it, sat and then wriggled to the middle. Brian stood before him offering his best awaiting another command. Dan refilled the champagne glass and handed Brian a lighter.

  Graciously, Brian took them and bowed. And then he went to the bed, stepped onto it in a single movement, the muscles in his legs straining to lift his weight. He stood over her a moment and then slowly descended to his knees keeping his anxious organ in his Master’s vision by sitting on her breasts. Brian nudged at her legs and she parted them, drew them up just enough that he could hook his elbows behind her knees.

  Dan’s heart began to palpitate to see his wife’s body so open and ready to serve. The moisture that flowed there was intoxicating and he rose out of the chair and went to the bed. On his side, he lay before them, his head propped in his hand. Open, open like he had never seen her before, the satin glowing as if it were on fire from inside, the softness drawing him closer. A single finger slid into that organ so filled with heat and dallied, reveling in the contractions of excitement. It retreated to rub over the swollen clit a moment, a clit he’d never actually seen until now. It was a miniature version of the glans lying on her belly, purpled with blood. That finger went to the penis now to rub indelicate circles roughly.

  The sentiment caught in Brian’s chest and escaped on a moan. Again, Dan’s finger drove into the font and returned quite wetted, a fresh draught of lust to drive Brian to madness. Unconsciously Brian rose to feel the finger retreat and return refreshed to go for his ass.

  “Oh, My Lord.” His voice quivered, he unsure as to whether he spilled champagne.

  Dan drove into him further as Caroline shifted, the better to see what was happening.

  Dan was lost in these two, anything he could want he could have with them now. He pulled out of Brian to bury into her again. That little gift he rubbed into the mustache under Brian’s nose.

  Panting uncontrollably, Brian sat down again. His eyes fluttered open on his Master. His Master nodded, content to lie there and watch apparently.

  Brian drew in a deep breath to cure his abused nervous system. This was the moment his Master wanted. To see his wife on fire for him. He steadied himself, reassumed control of her legs as he spread his elbows. A thin trickle of champagne dripped on her mound. The flick of a lighter and a soft whoosh sent it ablaze.

  Dan reared back. But he smiled to see it was only the hint of a flame. As if a ghost suddenly materialized and then vanished so was this flame that quickly extinguished to leave only an indelicate throbbing in his wife’s loins and the moaning of her pleasure filling the room around him.

  Time and time again, the flame roared up and then died, leaving her writhing under Brian’s weight. Dan needed to be in her; once again slid his finger into her. The champagne trickled down, the flame roared and singed the hair off the back of his hand. It was exactly as if a fire spirit passed over him leaving him only heated but not burnt. His thumb rubbed hard over her clit and was the last cause of her undeniable pleasure. Her writhing was impossible to control, her sobbing impossible to ignore. Even with Brian’s weight, she bucked wildly, her hips gyrating to the pressure and the fire.

  Dan allowed the tremors of that singularly memorable pleasure subside before he retreated. Only then did he push Brian off her and Brian fell to his back. Quickly, Dan slipped out of his sweat pants and growled at Brian, “Over.”

  Adrenaline pumped into Dan’s muscles and hardened them. But he had control now, thanks to Morgan, he didn’t have to spill as soon as he felt it. He stared into Brian as Brian stared back, their connection impossible to break.

  “Roll over, I said,” Dan hissed. Only with such a command could Brian break from him. Quickly, he lay on his front, his arms sprawled beyond him. Through the corner of his eye, he noted the Master’s hand slide through his wife’s cunt. He felt that ingratiating moisture rubbed over his orifice. Before he felt the bed shift, another handful was rubbed into the Master’s penis and then his Master’s weight fell on him.

  It felt like case-hardened steel generously bathed in axle grease as it breached the defense. A single forceful stroke buried its length in Brian’s body. Dan’s hands forced Brian’s arms to Brian’s side and then he wrapped his arms around Brian’s torso, his hands crushing on Brian’s pectorals, the nipples enraged in Dan’s palms. Like a stallion in heat, he thrashed Brian until he could no longer breathe, no longer contain himself and he spilled with such force it made Brian cry out.

  Exhausted, Dan fell to Brian’s back, his chest heaving to cure the ache in his lungs. The hardness under him was intoxicating. He had only played with the boys in summer when he was a kid, never went this far. But this was so totally intoxicating, to feel the gentle rise of the body beneath him.

  Ever so slowly, he pulled out and rolled away. He pushed Brian away and pulled Caroline between them. Caroline wriggled lower on the bed and Brian’s penis was placed in her mouth where she could feed from it.

  Brian stared into Dan as he drew closer. Dan approached as if he spied something so rare and exquisite, a twist of a smile on his lips. Dan’s arm slid under Brian’s neck, his fingers through Brian’s hair to clutch at Brian’s head and draw him still closer. Voraciously, he opened his mouth and drove his tongue into Brian.

  Brian sucked hard, feeling the forcefulness of a man rend his reason. Praise the saints, the sweet little thing trying to eat him just now was no Morgan. Morgan would have had him off by now if she’d wanted that. No, this sweet little Caroline was gratefully unskilled, the better to stay connected to this man, as he felt the strands of his hair pulled out in eagerness to command him.

  * * * *

  Hours later, Brian awoke with Caroline in his arms, his flaccid and badly used penis trapped between her buttocks. Only the arms around him stirred him to life as the hand captured his balls to caress them.

  “Honey, you’re not cooking tonight, so go take a shower because the three of us are going to an early dinner.”

  “Japanese Steakhouse?” she mewed.

  “Anything you want, Baby.”

  She slid out of Brian’s embrace and off the bed. Only when she disappeared, Dan turned Brian to stare into him. “You don’t mind being my submissive?”

  “I most certainly do not mind at all, My Lord,” Brian breathed.

  “Good. Unless you have some objection we’ll see you next Sunday.”

  “As you wish.”

  Dan lingered. Already it was more than that. To think that he could be in love with two peopl
e scared him a little.

  * * * *

  Brian smiled. These little ménage a trois he engaged in regularly while he was still an Abernathy were a joyous diversion. He had forgotten how much he missed them. Morgan didn’t go there often, only occasionally let him have Kitty. If Morgan could only lighten up on the jealousy and know he loved her as much as this guy loved his wife...

  But even this he could do without. Ah, but how generous she would be if she left him in a hell of constriction bondage on the floor and allowed him to watch while she worked Caroline over.

  Oh well...as he swallowed that tongue again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On the twenty-first floor of the Waterford Hotel, Alex Abernathy stormed the bedroom and slammed the door. He simply refused to listen to another diatribe about his family or ultimatums issued by his lover. The door was locked so that only the sound of his lover’s voice bored through and not the fist he was so accustomed to.

  Alex grabbed the valise out of the closet and threw it on the bed. What the hell did he want out of this place anyway?

  The pounding swelled into the droning of heavy thuds exacted against the thick oaken door. He hurried on, his underwear, a few suits, a few scents. All those lovely gowns and wigs, shoes and stockings would have to wait, or be sacrificed altogether. It didn’t matter now.

  Quickly he called for a car to meet him streetside and closed the valise. With a rush of fear, he heard the splintering of the jamb at the insistence of a foot. Just as he grabbed the valise the door sprang open with such force it swung closed again.

  “You’re not leaving me, you little fag!” Charles stood before him, broiling with rage.

  Defiantly, Alex stared at the man he’d lived with for twenty years. “Get out of my way, Charles,” he snarled.

  Charles laughed. “I wonder what the press would like to know about what you’ve been doing this last little while?”

  “Go to the fucking press. What you don’t seem to remember is that the press had their heyday with me when you moved in here. Everybody in the world knows I’m a gay transvestite, Charles. It’s not even interesting anymore. Nobody gives a shit.”

  Charles’ hand balled into a fist. “But do they know how much you like to get beat up? That would make for some interesting copy.”

  “Whatever!” Alex screamed. He shoved past Charles and dashed out the door.

  “You son of a bitch!” He hurried quickly behind only to watch Alex open the corridor door. “I’ll file a palimony suit!”

  The door slammed closed and Alex ran down the hallway to the elevator. Charles would run after him to create a scene in any public place just for the thrill of exhibition. A scene Alex wanted desperately to avoid. Thankfully, the elevator car was on that floor at the moment, and he rushed into it and pressed the lobby button.

  Just a few minutes and he would be as good as gone. He would have the legal department draft the papers to get that son of a bitch thrown out of his condo, or to hell with the condo, he thought. Get my stuff out of it and that bastard can have it.

  He took a deep breath as the doors slid open. But the man before him captured his attention so effectively Alex could do nothing but stare.

  “Jerry, what are you doing here?”

  Stunned himself, Jerry hesitated. He was here to see Morgan, had hoped Morgan would be home at the moment. He hadn’t planned on seeing Alex. He stammered a little until...

  Another set of elevator doors slid opened and the sound of Alex’s name echoed around the plush expanse of what was once the very pinnacle of hotels renovated to modern codes. Jerry stepped back a bit and glared at the man with undiluted wrath.

  “You!” Charles snarled at Jerry. “I should have known you had something to do with this.”

  Quickly, Alex stepped out of the elevator. “Do you really have to make a scene?”

  “What the fuck is he doing here!” Charles screamed as he glared at Jerry.

  Jerry noted the rage tinged with a bit of fear distorting his brother’s features with the embarrassment this caused. He grabbed the suitcase from his brother’s hand and turned to the towering wisp of wind who had fallen to tears.

  “I suggest you stand aside,” Jerry snarled under his breath.

  “You can’t do this!” The shrillness of the plea echoed from the stone walls.

  Jerry wrapped his huge hand around his brother’s upper arm and shoved him away. He turned to Charles, a man he had met only a few times and most definitely didn’t care for. His eyes squinted into slashes of rage. “And should you go to the press...again...I’ll make certain that you have no other recourse than to jump off the balcony of my brother’s condo. Good day.”

  Without hesitation, he walked brusquely over the magnificent Persian rug only to hear the doorman offer, “Mr. Abernathy,” with deep respect. And then closed the door on Charles.

  * * * *

  Inside the decadent but quiet confines of a private limousine, Alex shook uncontrollably, fumbling with a cigarette. Jerry snatched it from him, placed it between his lips and held the lighter before it. He poured two drinks and handed one to Alex. “This is it with him?” Jerry asked curiously.

  “This is most definitely it,” Alex said surely. “The truth is I’ve got the paperwork started to purchase a home in that new Glen Mawr division up north, but the construction hasn’t even started.”

  “Then you’ve been planning this.”

  Nervously, Alex hit the cigarette hard. “The first ten years were fine. The next five were a bore. The last five have been traumatic, demeaning, and miserable.” He threw his head back to slug down the bourbon.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Alex heard the words but they didn’t compute. Jerry...sorry about Alex’s circumstances? That hadn’t happened in the last thirty seven years. Alex studied those deep dark eyes of his brother a moment. Whoever it was in the body before him wasn’t the man their father constructed.

  He decided not to make an issue of it. “How curious we should both be getting divorced at the same time.” Alex thought he saw the twist of a bitter smile on his brother’s lips.

  “A twin thing, apparently.”

  Alex nodded and stubbed out the cigarette. “And apparently, we’re just aimlessly driving around.” He picked up the phone to tell the driver to take him to the Carmichael Hotel.

  “Uhhh...Cheryl’s out of town right now. Why don’t you stay at the Mansion?” Jerry offered.

  “The Mansion!” Alex gasped. “God, how long has it been since I’ve seen anything more than the foyer!” Instantly, he was filled with horror at the very thought of the home he and his brother were raised in. But it surprised him, that Jerry would offer that generosity so easily. “I don’t think...”

  “It’s not like I own it, Alex. The company owns it.”

  No, this couldn’t be his brother. But was this profound change in him something to do with the divorce, the hope that he might live and breathe again without that insufferable bitch constantly up his nose or did it have more to do with Morgan? “Jerry, I don’t ever want to see that place again. I don’t know how you can stand to live there.”

  “I don’t live there, Alex. I just eat and sleep there. I’m the CEO,” Jerry offered dismally. “I moved out several months ago and I haven’t been back. So why don’t you just come to the penthouse until we can get a condo ready for you?”

  Stunned, Alex nodded his assent. “That’s very generous.”

  It was settled. Jerry picked up the telephone to tell the driver to take them home.

  * * * *

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” Alex commented. “It’s lovely.”

  “It ought to be,” Jerry said. “You did it.” Quite casually he switched the recessed lights over the main living area on. “And you know where everything is.” Jerry took the leather chair near the fireplace.

  Curiously, Alex followed and took the edge of the sofa closest the chair. “Jerry, what’s going on with you?
”

  Jerry drew in a heavy breath. “You ever been in love?”

  “Yes,” Alex said quickly. He remembered well the man he would have died for to protect...if it would have saved that man.

  Jerry smiled a little, but it was bitter, remembering the man Alex spoke of. Yet he hesitated, not wishing to remember that man fully. “There’s a woman.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Jerry shook his head. “Unobtainable ideal.” His voice was soft.

  It burst out of Alex uncontrolled. “Unobtainable for Jerry Abernathy?”

  “Some people can’t be purchased, Alex. They can only be paid for.”

  “Oh, God, not another hooker,” he snarled.

  “No. Not a hooker.”

  “This cute little sex therapist I’ve heard about?”

  Jerry snarled. “So there is some office gossip,” he noted. “Yeah, she’s pretty special.”

  “That’s who you were going to see tonight?”

  “I didn’t have an appointment, but yes. I’m not even sure she’s there now.”

  “Must be pretty serious,” Alex commented.

  Jerry looked away. “Curious, at the very least,” Jerry said. “I’ve been with her several times now and I haven’t had her yet. She’s wearing at least part of the Hope diamond on her finger. Nearly a million dollars worth, I’m sure of it. Has to be an engagement ring.”

  Nervously, Alex laughed a little knowing it was Brian’s Morgan. “You haven’t slept with her?” He was relieved.

  A sheepish grin broadened Jerry’s lips. “Nope. I’ve spent the night with the woman, slept in her bed, but actual sex is apparently out of the question.”

  “Then what the hell is it that holds your interest? Makes you speak of love?”

  “Hell if I know.” His inner-vision filled with the color of her hair.