High Life: Alice Makes a Change Pt. 04

James smiled back at her, letting himself be touched.

"Rate me however you see fit," he responded.

I pulled the bottle out of the ice, handing my husband a glass, inserting myself into the gathering. Marielle stepped back a little, a look of disapproval on her face. I began to pour the champagne, filling each woman's glass, and then my husband's.

"Bottoms up," Jacee called out, downing the glass in one.

James began to sip his drink, but she reached out, elevating the base of his glass with her finger until he had finished it.

"Good boy," she murmured, "This is how we party."

Cybil crossed over to a speaker and dance music filled the air. She gyrated, spinning back towards me, holding out her empty glass for a refill. I obliged, but she was ignoring me, grinning at Fee, grinding her hips in the air. I topped them all up, finishing the bottle off, watching them dancing around James.

"Get another bottle. Keep it coming," Marielle told me, turning away, dismissing me.

I stood there for a moment, watching them. They'd clearly already been drinking, dancing around the room now, kicking off their high heels, laughing to each other. James stood there too, smiling. Our eyes met. Subtly, he nodded towards the kitchenette, and I understood. I went to fetch more champagne, leaving James to work the room.

There was a little bar fridge under the counter, stocked with more bottles. I selected one and set about opening it. I knew what James was thinking: if we kept the bubbles flowing, our job would get easier. We'd both seen enough of these events to know how that would end, with wives passed out on chairs as the party wound down. It was a good strategy, and once again, I felt a little lift. We knew this game.

I turned back to the group and stopped. Jacee was unbuttoning my husband's waistcoat, sliding her hands over his naked chest, even as Marielle reached behind herself to unzip her cocktail dress. I watched open-mouthed as she let it slide down her body and stepped out of it, slinking over to James in nothing more than a lacy bra and g-string. I gaped at her exposed flesh, as James caught my eye again. The look he shot me wasn't reassuring.

Marielle began to twirl around James, gyrating to the music, dancing like a stripper as her friends whooped around her. She came up behind him, sliding her hands over his bare back, around his waist and then up over his well-defined chest. She pressed herself up against his back, going up on tiptoes to perch her chin on his shoulder so she could whisper into his ear. The music was too loud to hear her words, but I saw my husband's reaction.

He covered quickly, but Marielle's hands were in motion again, sliding down his torso until they found the tight leather shorts. Her fingers paused and the other girls began to clap in time with the music. Marielle popped a button and they cheered. Her hand dipped into his pants, and I saw movement under the black leather as she seized my husband's manhood.

I suddenly felt very alone, standing outside the party, beyond the ring of dancing women. Marielle was peeling the leather shorts off and all I could do was stare at the progress of her hands as she revealed more and more of my husband's body. I was aware that the other women were staring too, all eyes fixed on James as his manhood was revealed. I wanted Marielle to stop, to take her hands off him, but I watched like the rest of them as she stripped him at last, leaving James standing in the middle of them in his shiny latex sheath, Marielle's fingers encircling his shaft. She squeezed and James shivered.

"He looks like a fucking dildo," Jacee exclaimed.

"Feel it," Marielle responded, "It's so cool."

Jacee reached out and stroked James, running her fingers over the shiny black surface.

"It's textured," she exclaimed.

"All for our pleasure," Marielle cackled with glee, "I just can't wait."

She cupped James, grabbing his balls, making him shift on the spot. The girls seemed to find this funny, drawing closer to inspect the naked man they'd bought for the evening. Only then did I look up.

James was staring directly at me, grinning, but it didn't reach his eyes. The women continued to paw at him. He blinked slowly, and I could see the hollowness behind his pleasant expression, and something else, something worse. Suddenly, he moved.

"Ladies," he grated, "Hold fire for a moment, I just need to get ready."

"You look ready to me," Cybil replied, "Ready to eat."

"One moment, then I'm all yours."

James extricated himself from the women, lumbering towards me. As soon as he had his back to them, his face sagged.

"Bathroom," he hissed, "Now."

I followed along behind, and he closed the door with a thud. Instantly, it was quieter, ensconced in the little room. James turned to me.

"I can't do it Alice."

He shook his head, leaning back against the wash basin, brows furrowed.

"They want me to... to... fuck them. I can't. I can't even get it up."

He stared down at his manhood, hanging limply in its knobbled latex sheath.

"Fuck, Alice, this is so awful. What am I gonna do?"

"I don't know, babe. I can't...."

"All that bullshit," he spat, cutting me off, "About game face and getting it done. All I can think about is...."

His voice trailed off, his jaw working soundlessly.

"What?" I asked.

"You, Alice. I'm so fucking sorry I got us into this mess. Maybe it's just better to walk out, let that fucking bitch Jodie do her worst. Got to the police. It's blackmail. She'd follow through, and then we're screwed, but it's gotta be better than this."

I couldn't find the words to say. Seeing James slumped against the basin like this, like he was beaten, wasn't something I was used to seeing. I felt useless, powerless.

"What do you think, Alice? Pull the pin and bear the consequences?" he grunted, "She set us up to fail. We're outmanoeuvred."

We looked at each other, neither saying a word. At last, he pulled himself upright.

"Nah," he rasped.

"What?"

"Fuck it, Alice, the only way out is through."

He fell silent and I started at him.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked, tentatively.

James took a deep breath, and replied, "I'm going to go out there and do the best I can."

"What about calling it off?"

"Alice, I can't do that. I can't do that to the boys. I won't have them a laughing stock. Let's get this done."

He straightened up, facing the door.

"I just have no idea how. Let's see how play unfolds."

"Wait."

James turned to me, frowning. I reached into my cleavage and pulled out a tiny folded bundle of tissue paper.

"There's this."

James took it from me and unwrapped it. He picked up the tiny square of coloured paper nestled within. We both stared at it for a long time.

"Okay," he said at last, "But Alice, you have to swear me something."

"Anything."

"Watch over me."

He kissed me then, a sudden burst of motion, fuelled by passion. I felt myself responding to him, but then he broke off, popping the little square into his mouth. Without another word, he opened the bathroom door and strode out.

I watched him leave, loitering in the doorway. His shoulders were set, his chin up, like he was striding out onto the grass for the finals. James took Marielle's hand and pulled her away from her friends.

"You came here to party, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I wanna...."

"Good," James interjected, not letting her finish, "Strip. Or do you need me to do that?"

I hovered, forgotten in the background, as my husband removed Marielle's bra and g-string, running his hands over her breasts, pulling her close. He murmured something in her ear and I saw her eyes widen. She stepped back, and James slid his hand down her front, cupping her sex.

I watched my husband manhandle another woman right in front of me, taking charge like he would sometimes do with me, making the plays, on the offensive now. He pulled her in close, kissing her neck, her shoulder, then plunging his tongue into her mouth. All the while his other hand was moving between her legs, a finger buried within her, making her squirm.

James held her tightly though, so Marielle couldn't escape. He broke off the kiss, bending down now to pay attention to her breasts, drawing a nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily. Between his legs, I saw the sleek black shape begin to harden and rise. He pulled back again, and I could see it in his eyes: James was gone now, replaced by the beast, the drugs taking effect.

He directed her to the back of an armchair, bending her over so that her breasts hung down and her backside was high in the air, waiting for him. James didn't hesitate, sliding himself into her, working back and forth until she was slick enough to admit him completely. I had a perfect view, seeing the euphoric smile on Marielle's face as James pounded into her.

But it was James I was watching. He was standing behind the chair, his hands around her soft hips, his abdominals tensing and relaxing in a hypnotic pattern as he gave the bent-over woman the fucking she'd paid him for. Naked, taut, gleaming with the first prickles of perspiration, I stared helplessly at my husband's powerful body, feeling a low heat kindling in my core, reacting at a subliminal level to James in full flight.

James reached forward, sliding his hands under Marielle's body, finding her breasts. They filled his outstretched hands, and he began to play with them as he pounded into her. Marielle reacted instantly, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught against her body, making a high-pitched mewling noise as James brought her mercilessly to the brink of her orgasm.

I had never seen this side of my husband before, the animal nature of the fucking that he was delivering to the woman bent over in front of him, and my body was reacting powerfully to it. I felt myself begin to flush, even as her noises became louder, more ardent. James stepped up the pace, his thighs slapping against her skin in counterpoint to the thudding bass of the dance music playing in the background. The other women were silent, spellbound, glasses raised halfway to lips.

Marielle twisted, but James kept her in position, his fingers finding her swollen nipples and tweaking. The effect was immediate and spectacular: Marielle cried out, shuddering, eyes screwed shut as her climax ripped through her.

James appeared not to notice, keeping up the same implacable cadence, until Marielle reached back, weakly, pushing him away.

James seemed to register this, and finally stepped back, sliding out of her, his manhood shining with her juices and still absolutely rigid. Marielle flopped back down over the back of the armchair, panting, her body still quivering slightly.

"Fuck me," Jacee murmured.

"Or me," Cybil replied, then she laughed, "You okay Marie? Looks like he nearly broke you in half."

Marielle pulled herself upright, smoothing a hand through her tangled blonde hair. Her face was flushed and her eyes still a little unfocused.

"Who's next?" she rasped.

Those words seemed to break the spell, and the women began to move now, sipping champagne, relaxing postures, all but me. I was paralysed, still replaying the moment that James had brought another woman to a staggering climax in front of me. It felt like a betrayal, but there was another emotion that gripped me, rooted to the spot: envy. I was deeply envious of her, how she enjoyed my husband like that, getting to feel his manhood inside her instead of inside me. There was also something else: pride, watching my man satisfying her completely, savagely, taking control. Marielle would remember this, getting to see a glimpse of what I was able to enjoy all the time. It was almost a good enough revenge on its own against this awful woman.

"Ladies, shall we move this to the hot tub?" Fee announced, "Bring James, of course."

"Oh, yeah, let's do that," Jacee exclaimed, "Awesome."

She headed out to the double doors, pulling them open and flicking a switch to illuminate the water in a large recessed tub set into the wooden deck. The hillside sloped away so that the deck was raised up high, giving privacy without compromising the view down the hill to the lake. She started to unzip herself, peeling off her cocktail dress and then her underwear, sliding down into the frothing water, naked. She looked back through the doors at her friends, beckoning them to follow.

The others began to strip themselves too, and Marielle wobbled over to the double doors, already nude. Before she descended into the water, she turned back to point at me.

"Bubbles," she said.

She pointed at James.

"Cock. Let's go."

Reluctantly, I did as ordered, bringing the champagne out, following the women and James as the entered the bubbling water.

"So, who's next?" Marielle asked.

"Do we let James decide?" Fee asked, smiling at my husband sweetly.

James shifted his attention to her, not speaking. Her smile widened.

"Seems he's chosen," Fee observed, "Sorry ladies."

"That's not fair," Jacee interjected, "We didn't have a chance."

"No, you didn't," Fee replied, swishing through the water to take her place next to James.

"We should vote," Jacee persisted, grinning.

"We already have, Jace, you just didn't win."

"Like this is some fucking popularity contest?"

"Oh, hon, everything's a popularity contest."

"And you win?"

"Yes, and I win. By popular vote."

"You always win," Jacee pouted.

"That's why I was the queen of the party circuit," Fee replied, her fingers curling in my husband's hair, pulling him towards her.

Jacee laughed, replying, "I don't recall you as the queen."

Cybil laughed too, joining in with, "Yeah, Fee, you were something else entirely. You took a wide sample."

Fee's eyes were on my husband's broad chest, caressing him with her fingertips, slowly.

"I needed to make sure I was making the right choice, Cyb. I'm a great believer in marriage being for life. It gets costly, otherwise."

"You're so full of shit," Marielle interjected, "You just didn't get caught yet."

"Like you did?"

"Ah, be nice."

Fee continued to explore each part of James, taking her time as if savouring him.

"I tell my husband everything," she murmured.

"Bullshit. All the stuff you get up to?"

"Mr. Fee doesn't mind. He knows I'll never leave him."

"Bonded by love?" Marielle asked.

"Among other things. It's important that you satisfy your man."

"You got that the wrong way round. It's important that he satisfies you."

Fee didn't respond immediately. Her hand moved through the water, cupping my husband's balls, directing him between her legs. She smiled up at him and it tore straight through me: such a perfect smile, such a beautiful face, elegant and enticing. Her lips parted.

Up until this point, I'd been able to deal with it, compartmentalising. They were clients, James was here to entertain. Even though they were using him for sex, there was some part of it all that let me deal with it. James had to do it, we had no choice, I could hate them for buying him. But when Ophelia's moist lips parted, James bent down to kiss them, allowing himself to be guided into her at the same time. His hand spread across the back of her head, holding her there while they kissed, in the same way he would do to me. When she broke off, his tongue slipped out of her mouth and I felt betrayed.

Fee pressed her hands against his chest, leaning back, watching his face with a sly smile on her lips. They remained still, two bodies in the water, but then James groaned, his head dropping. He closed his eyes and moaned again.

"Fee, what are you doing to him?"

Fee chuckled, replying, "Anything I want. That was the deal, right?"

She didn't move, but James attempted to close in for another kiss. Fee pushed him back, maintaining the position with my man between her legs. She ran her left hand through his hair, the diamonds on her finger sparkling in the light.

"You like that?" she murmured to him.

James had closed his eyes, lost in the sensations. I wanted to know what was happening, but the room was silent now, and I sat meekly to the side, bound to silence. Fee smiled and I heard James take in a long shuddering breath. I was powerless to intervene, forced to watch this beautiful woman deepen her hold over my husband's body.

"I can keep you like this," she whispered, "For as long as I like. I sometimes keep my husband like this for hours."

I was staring at James, watching his face. Whatever she was doing to him, he remained buried inside her, not moving, grunting softly. I could see her abdominals tensing and relaxing subtly, stroking his hair as she smiled up at him.

"I could keep him hard for hours, just on the edge, like this."

Jacee squirmed in the water, sending out little ripples.

"Shit, Fee. How do you do that?"

Fee laughed, a light, tinkling sound.

"I had private lessons. Makes life so much easier."

"How come?"

"Oh, you know. Men are like carpets. You lay them right the first time, you can walk on them forever."

Fee took my husband's face in her hands, craning up to kiss him.

"Now, I want you to give me the good, hard fucking that Marie's paying you for."

James began to move immediately, delivering long, deep thrusts into the perfect body beneath him. I wanted to close my eyes; it had all become suddenly unbearable, but I couldn't look away. My husband's powerful bulk was poised over her slender frame, sliding in and out in a steady rhythm. She had his rapt attention.

I tried to tell myself that it was the drugs, that this is what they did, but James wasn't some passive hulk, fucking robotically in a world of his own, like with Delilah on her couch. It wasn't like watching him slam into Jemima in her entertainment room. I could see that James was lost in it, his eyes open now, locked on Fee's body as he fucked her. For the first time, I felt replaced, superfluous.

"Good. Harder. I can take it, James, you won't break me."

James responded, stepping up the pace, thrusting into her with more force, and Fee began to make soft grunting noises in response, clearly enjoying the feeling of my husband's cock inside her. Each thrust raised her up in the water, her breasts jiggling with the impact. She was taking little short breaths now, her eyes wild, still locked on James. Her hands shifted down, plunging to the water line, her manicured fingernails digging into his buttocks as they tensed and stretched powerfully. It was all I could see: my husband's bottom just above the water, the muscles contracting as he drove himself into another woman. I could almost feel the impact of each thrust, some twisted part of my brain recalling how it felt, to have James between my legs in full flow, pounding into me. I crossed my legs, clenching my thighs together, feeling a delicious friction.

All attention was focused on him now as he satisfied the woman beneath him, making her gasp as she reached her edge, and I was seized with the unreasoning urge to dive into the water, to wrap my arms around my husband and pull him back before he climaxed, pull him out of her. I was afraid of what would happen if he came, if he brought her to climax, what it would mean afterwards.

After Fee, I knew how I would compare. This gorgeous, blonde fantasy was stealing my husband, and all I was allowed to do was look on in silence. I realised that my legs were entwined, and I was rubbing my thighs together without thinking about it, my crotch compressed. I was slick and hot and humiliated, watching my husband enjoy fucking another woman.

James descended on top of her, catching her up in his arms, pinning her in place as he flexed his abdominals, driving into her now like an unreasoning beast. I had never seen James lose himself like that with me, and I kept telling myself it was because I'd drugged him, that I'd made my own husband unable to help himself, that I'd purposefully turned him into her fucktoy. I needed so desperately to believe that he wasn't himself, that she hadn't taken control of my man with almost trivial ease.