Alizarin Passions Ch. 02

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What was meant to be a one-off develops into more...
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 07/30/2018
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Her twentieth birthday was today, but it was nothing special to her. Leah had gotten a few calls and texts this morning, but she was now working an afternoon shift. Robert was also picking up extra shifts at work to pay down his part of the debt he shared with his brothers and friend, so she'd simply packed him lunch and sent him off to work with a kiss on his cheek. She figured she'd buy a small cake on the way home from work and they could relax with that and a movie, since he had another long shift the next day.

The last two weeks had been uneventful. When he wasn't working, he was mostly relaxing around the apartment, playing video games or fiddling around on his phone. There hadn't been much talk between them since that fateful night, other than to exchange pleasantries or discuss bills and other relevant matters. She'd gone with him the next Sunday to church and supper, but after dealing with the usual behavior from her mother in law, this week, she'd decided to again forgo the Sunday ordeal.

Robert had not attempted to initiate sex for over a week. When he finally did, it was in an almost shy way, as if he expected her to reject him. She consented, but not without attempting to guide him through foreplay so she could gain more pleasure. However, all attempts to get him to finger her in a satisfying way came to naught, and when it came to eating her out -- something he'd only ever attempted twice in their marriage -- he'd quickly proven that third time definitely was not the charm.

She'd tried to point this or that out to him to improve his technique, and giving him encouragement when he did something right. This resulted in very little encouragement, and lots of frustration.

Finally, out of exasperation, she simply let him mount her, and this was no more satisfying than anything he'd ever done in the past.

Then the next morning, after he'd gone to work, she'd pulled out her massage wand and gave herself the only real pleasure she ever felt within the confines of her marriage. This wasn't new, but now, when she came under the buzzing of the wand, she imagined Oskar Blackfeld pushing into her, filling her up, or his fingers pumping her expertly, or the way his lips moved along her face and neck with an intensity she'd never felt from Robert.

Leah quickly checked her phone. It was almost the end of her shift. She was happy for that, but not so happy about what she had to come home to.

Was this what she was really meant for? Working some crappy part-time job, to save up for the future, for her husband and children, to care for them and clean up after them, and go to PTA meetings and sports games and basically repeat the cycle that her family had gone through for the last few generations? There wasn't necessarily anything wrong with that dream in itself, but was it right for her?

"Leah Donaldson?" she heard someone ask, and turned to see a middle-aged man near the edge of the counter with a bouquet in his hands. He wore the uniform of a popular courier service, and she wondered if perhaps her husband had indeed come up with some sort of birthday surprise for her

The bouquet was modest and charming, made of several lilies and with a scattering of baby's breath and goldenrod. She quickly signed for it and once she was punched out and ready to go home on the bus, she opened the envelope that came with the flowers. The outside was nondescript, and inside was a note that had obviously been printed at the florist, but then, Robert's handwriting could be pretty atrocious and perhaps he just wanted to go the extra mile.

She hadn't quite forgiven him, but he seemed to be making an honest effort to be a better man, and she did her part in being a supportive wife. This sort of gesture made her feel optimistic about their marriage. Especially when she saw the black limousine that awaited her when she headed to the section of the building that faced a small park maintained by the buildings around it. Sometimes workers from the various buildings might come out here for lunch or smoke breaks, as she had done herself in the past.

A tall, well-muscled black man stood at the side of the elegant car, looking sharp and professional in his gold-buttoned uniform. He inclined his head and tipped his chauffeur's cap as she approached before opening the door for her.

"Evening, ma'am Enjoy your ride."

Just as he closed the door after her, she turned around, expecting to see her husband sitting there. Maybe with some champagne for them to share, or chocolate-covered strawberries, or some other grand and romantic gesture, and...

She stilled as she took in the presence of Oskar Blackfeld. Swallowing thickly and ever aware of her rapidly-increasing pulse, she slid onto a seat, facing him.

"I hope my husband didn't screw up again," she murmured.

He snorted softly. "If he has erred, it hasn't been in anything that concerns me, at least. Good evening, Leah, by the way."

She blushed at the gentle rebuke. "Good evening, Mr. Blackfeld. How have you been?" she asked politely, staring into his eyes.

"I have been well. I thought I would pay you a visit and wish you a happy birthday."

"Oh? That's very kind of you." After that, she found herself lapsing into an awkward silence. What was there to say to a man such as this? He reached across, and the movement drew her attention to his clothing. As always, he was dressed impeccably, this time in a plain black suit with a white shirt, accompanied by a black and purple striped tie.

Pressing a button, he spoke. "You may proceed, James,"

The chauffeur responded. "Roger that, sir."

He lifted his finger from the button, and she stared at him nervously.

"Where are we going?"

"I thought we might have a nice ride. I sincerely would like to make this a pleasant birthday for you."

o0o

She was tense, and he said nothing more for a moment as he reached down, opening a mini-fridge to reveal several beverages and types of alcohol.

"I have that bourbon you enjoyed before, though there are a few other things if you prefer," he said casually as he sat back up, regarding her through almost half-lidded eyes. She looked nice in the hunter's green sweater and black calf-length skirt under a canvas-winter jacket.

Oskar Blackfeld wanted to fuck her since he first saw her, and had figured that after having had her, he would be able to move on. He had no illusions about how people saw him, and did not allow himself to get too emotionally involved with women. Short-term relationships, if not one-night stands, were the norm for him, and that was how he liked it.

But there was something about Leah Donaldson that intrigued him. It wasn't quite innocence, since she clearly hadn't been some doe-eyed virgin. He found her circumstances intriguing, and he wondered if perhaps the reason why he now seemed unable to shake his fixation was because of what he'd overheard when Leah had exacted the promise from her husband.

"Let us be candid with one another, Leah," he said as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know that you are aware of my reputation. It is not without cause, but I assure you, my intention with you involves absolutely no harm. I still desire you, and unless I am mistaken, your sex life with your husband is unsatisfying."

The quick blush and averted gaze told him all he needed to know, and he smiled to himself. "When is the last time you were intimate with your husband?"

Slowly, she raised a hand, extending all five fingers.

"Five... days?" he asked. She nodded. "And how was it?"

Leah gave out a small snort.

"Have you thought about me?"

Her eyes darted in his direction before she looked away, blushing even more. He leaned in a bit more, his voice continuing to be gentle.

"Have you fantasized about the things I've done to you?"

She closed her eyes, and he grinned to himself as he slid from the seat, moving quickly across the small space, his hands taking hold of her knees. She gasped softly and looked back at him.

"I shall give you more to think about, my dear." With that, he pushed the hem of her skirt up, revealing pale, shapely legs. Thankfully, the tights she wore only extended to her thighs, as he had no care for pantyhose.

"Sir..." she breathed as her panties came into view. The plain lavender fabric was considerably more modest than the red lace she'd garbed herself in the other night, but he was no less eager to have what was behind the material.

"Hush," he said firmly as he reached in, hooking his fingers around the waistband and pulling Leah's panties down her legs and past the light boots she wore. "At least, with the protests. I will not disdain sounds of pleasure or encouragement."

With several firm pulls, he had her positioned more comfortably, thighs spread wide to reveal a tasty sight indeed. Her bikini line was neatly shaved, and dark curls sat around a moist opening that was quickly filled by one of his fingers. Her reaction was almost instantaneous, and she whimpered softly when he slid in another finger, plunging into her depths as he lowered his lips, teasing her clit out from its hood before he started to lick it.

His tongue darted across the sensitive nub, and a quiet sigh met his ears. He looked up to see her looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, her expression one of pleasure battling reluctance and confusion.

"Misterrr Blackfeld..." Leah lifted her hand to run it through her hair as she twisted around.

"I think that in these circumstances, my first name is better," he chided playfully before teasing one of her inner lips with his thumb.

"It's getting hot in here." She wiggled around, struggling to get her arms free of the jacket, keeping his fingers inside of her all the while, wiggling them as he pushed all the way in to his knuckles. She gasped softly and squirmed again, getting flustered at what should have been a simple task if not for her compromised position.

He chuckled softly before using his other arm to tug a sleeve off. She sighed in relief as she managed to free herself from the heavy article of clothing before she laid her head back against the cushion. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he leaned down, wrapping his lips around her clit as he explored and stroked her aching flesh, feeling his own arousal strain against his pants. Ignoring it for the time being, he focused on Leah's pleasure, kissing, licking, and sucking the tender flesh as her sweet musk assailed his senses.

"Oskar," she groaned. She reached out with one arm, gathering as much of a handful of upholstery as she could while she arched against him, his fingers and tongue teasing her closer and closer to climax. Her other hand went to her mouth, but she wasn't quite able to stifle all the sounds he evoked from her. Frantic gasping and moaning met his ears as he intensified his attentions, and he felt her boot against the side of his knee as she dug her heels into the carpet.

She was a glorious sight, eyes glassy and intense, her cheeks now flushed a becoming shade of rose, her hair now in attractive disarray from the thrashing her head had done.

Leah inhaled sharply before lifting her hand from her mouth, grabbing hold of the shoulder of his jacket. He looked up at her, winking as he continued his work, finally sending her over the edge.

He felt the tremble of her thigh under his other hand, and he locked her gently as he ran his fingers up her thigh and lower abdomen. With a steady gaze, he lifted his head, and removed his fingers from her, running his tongue along them.

"Oskar." His name was almost inaudible, and he smiled down at her. She stared up at him for a moment before looking away, closing her eyes.

Righting himself on his knees, he undid his belt and was quick to deal with all other barriers to lovemaking. He loosened his tie before positioning himself before her, leaning over her as his hardness nudged at her. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked up at him.

"I have more pleasure to offer you," he whispered. After only a moment of hesitation, she nodded. He pushed forward, and felt her push back at him, her pelvis twisting upward to receive him.

"Yes," he purred as he sheathed himself, feeling her clench at him. This utterance was met with wiggling, and he paused, enjoying this sensation. "Yes," he repeated softly, looking down at her. "You like doing that, don't you?" he asked.

"It feels good," came the candid response. The tight rotation of her hips drew him in even further, and an arm snaked around his middle.

"It is very enjoyable for me, too," he replied before leaning down to kiss along her neck and the side of her face before his hips started to rock back and forth. She used her other arm to prop herself for leverage, bracing herself when he started to go harder and faster, and she openly moaned out encouragement.

"Oh, god, YES," Leah gasped as he gave her a particularly rough thrust.

"This is what you want?" he hissed at her.

"I want you to fill me up," she moaned, wiggling herself at him again. He ground against her, and she used her arms to push back at him.

"As the birthday girl wants," he said lightly as he continued to pound into her fiercely. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he quickly removed his jacket, the fine white linen of his shirt straining across his back as he flexed his arms.

As he buried his face in Leah's hair, he was met with the same pleasing shampoo scent from last night, though there was no perfume this time. As she twisted under his exertions, he climaxed, and felt her arm tighten around him in response.

They lay there together for a while, simply panting slowly as Oskar felt his pulse start to slow down. He felt her trying to ease him off her, and opened his eyes to see a slight strain in her features.

"No offense, Oskar, but you're... um, a big fellow. I'm not a very strong woman."

He smirked lightly at that and lifted himself off her.

"There is no offense in the truth. The last thing I would wish for is your discomfort." He sat back on the seat, pressing a button to feel a current of cold air. Tilting his head back, he glanced in her direction with half-lidded eyes, seeing her tug down her skirt part of the way as she sat up a little more.

o0o

Leah had seen him as he pulled out, and his penis looked as thick as it felt. Her hands slid down to her inner thighs, rubbing them a bit as she felt the slickness of their shared passion and the pleasant tingle left in the wake of their coitus.

She sat up, pulling her skirt down enough to maintain her modesty as he took a tissue and wiped himself clean before tucking himself back in his clothing.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. She blinked. Sex and dinner? Well, that was far from the worst idea anyone could come up with?

"Yes, please."

"Are you a picky eater?"

She chuckled softly at that. "That wasn't allowed when I was growing up."

He smiled at that, and Leah was struck with the realization that when he smiled, he actually looked... well, handsome wasn't the word she would use. But he definitely seemed more like a normal, approachable guy at that moment.

He just gave you an amazing fuck too, her inner voice reminded her.

He pressed the button again. "James, take us down to 82nd and Riodel," Mr. Blackfeld commanded.

"Yes, sir."

Leah peered out the window. The buildings seemed vaguely familiar, or perhaps this was just one of these places that looked like other places. It was a typical view in the cityscape, with buildings varying between several to seven stories, of businesses and apartments. There were a couple of instantly-recognizable establishments, such as McDonald's or Starbucks, and the vehicle rolled to a stop near a food truck.

The pictures at the side of the truck advertised Mexican food, and within a minute, a middle-aged woman emerged from the vehicle. She approached the limo, and Mr. Blackfeld rolled down the window.

The woman greeted Mr. Blackfeld with a thick Spanish accent, and it was clear from her tone that she held him in high regard.

"Would you prefer tacos or burritos?" he asked Leah.

"Burritos, please/"

The exchange between Mr. Blackfeld and the woman went along quickly, and he pulled out his wallet. "And please add in some churros, Inez," he added as he slipped her money through the window.

"You're an owner of one of the nicest restaurants in town, and you go around in a limo. And here you are, at a food truck. Not that I mean it as a bad thing, but a guy like you-"

"Regardless of one's station in life, one should never disregard the simpler pleasures of life -- or the people that work to provide them. These are just simple folk trying to make a living after escaping difficult circumstances, and I do not believe in untoward cruelty towards such people."

Many in Leah and Robert's hometown complained about immigrants and the woes they brought to the United States of America, and in the few times Leah had engaged in arguments over it, she pointed out that many immigrants didn't come to cause trouble -- they were only trying to escape it. She had mixed opinions on immigrant reform and restrictions, another thing that set her apart from the typical lower-middle class WASP mindset.

"Besides, you'd be surprised at some of the tasty things you can find if you're willing to spend the time looking," Mr. Blackfeld added. "Inez makes the absolute best churros I've ever tasted."

Leah laughed quietly at that, and he smiled again.

o0o

Immigrants, and the children of, made for an excellent pool of talent to draw from. Though many of his employees came from Caucasian backgrounds, he was pragmatic enough to diversify his work force, and many of his employees provided valuable lines of communication and support for him within the various ethnic communities that made up this fair city.

"We get food trucks once in a while outside the building where I work. But so much of it is so greasy," she said with a shudder as she recalled a Philly Cheesesteak concoction another co-worker had brought in one day from a food truck whose owner, from the looks of it, got high off his own supply on a regular basis.

"That is true. Simply frying something doesn't automatically make it good, regardless of what some people might think," he commented. "Ah, here comes our dinner."

He lowered the window again to receive a large paper bag which he set next to him.

"And your change, senor," she heard Inez's cheerful voice say.

"If this meal is as good as it usually is, I trust that I will not regret deciding to let you keep the change."

"Would I ever give you anything less? And the churros are absolutely fresh! Buenas noches!"

The window went back up, and he instructed James to take them on an easy ride. As the vehicle pulled from the curb, he started unpacking the contents from the bag. There were two packages of burritos, along with yellow rice and sauce, and the scents of pepper, cilantro, and savory beef filled the car.

o0o

She took the opportunity to straighten herself further, pulling her panties back on. When she looked to see him watching her, he gave her an openly lecherous grin. She blushed, but he simply made dinner ready for both of them, handing her the container and a fork. She poured some of the thick mole sauce onto a burrito and started eating.

"This really is good," she commented after several bites of a burrito. The meat was flavorful and tender, and the rice was flavorful, though mild enough to not overwhelm the main dish. The two of them ate in companionable silence, and James was a good enough driver to not jar the food from their hands or laps.

It was not until she smelled the food that she realized just how hungry she was. She'd just had a piece of fruit and a protein bar for lunch, and this meal definitely hit the spot. As she was finishing the food he'd apportioned out to her, he pulled out two thick, sugar-crusted churros.

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