High Life: Alice Makes a Change Pt. 08

All of this was going to be for nothing, though, if Stacey sat in front of me and talked herself out of the thing her daughter had arranged for her. There was something awful and lost in the eyes of the woman opposite me, something that came from being given to a man before she was old enough to understand men, being shaped by that relationship and then finally abandoned. I cleared my throat.

"It's okay, Stacey. I don't mind."

I couldn't believe that I'd said it, but the lie felt like a little white one, not the crushing, overwhelming guilt that it had been when we'd first been pressed into service. I knew who the enemy was, and it wasn't the two women in this apartment.

"When I was first introduced to my husband," Stacey said, "I had a chaperone. Someone who I knew would make sure that nothing went too far. It was easy. I felt safe. This is very different."

"I can, if you like."

Stacey hesitated. I could see the uncertainty in her face.

"Your daughter's right. You could make use of this opportunity," I continued, "It's okay, if it's going to make you happy, then it's a good thing."

Stacey grimaced, and when she replied, her voice rasped with sudden emotion, "Yes, Alice, I would like to feel happy. I would like that very much."

We sipped our tea, making light conversation, as if Stacey was trying not to think about what was about to happen. I could tell how nervous she was, and when the bedroom door opened, her eyes went suddenly wide, startled.

James emerged first, with a towel wrapped around his waist, followed by Skye in a flowing silk nightgown. Her hair was in tangled disarray, strands plastered to her forehead, her cheeks still flushed.

"I'll get some water," James said, moving into the kitchen area while Skye came over to join us.

I watched my husband's broad back as he filled a glass, downing it in one. My attention turned to Skye and I felt a pang of envy, seeing the smile on her face, knowing that she had just received a thorough fucking from my husband. Skye's attention was focused, however, on her mother, a question passing silently between them.

A moment later, James joined us on the balcony. I couldn't help but notice the sheen of perspiration on his chest, the smile as he greeted the women again. It curdled something inside of me, way worse than before now that I was continually frustrated by the belt, but also in a dark way it was more delicious, the feeling of being neglected while he satisfied other women. Skye and her mother were both beautiful, worthy of his attention. The little green-eyed monster within me surged into life.

I choked that feeling back, trying to remain composed as I turned to my husband.

"Stacey would like a little company," I told him.

Stacey nodded shyly.

"Strength in numbers," I continued.

"Fair enough," James replied, then, "Shall we?"

James took Stacey by the hand and led her to the bedroom. I opened the door for them both, but Stacey paused on the threshold, looking back at her daughter, giving her a tiny smile. Skye grinned back, and we entered the bedroom. I closed the door behind us, leaving Skye behind, still smiling.

The bedroom wasn't huge. There was a queen-sized bed, a couple of bedside tables, a screen fixed to the opposite wall, a chair in the corner, a door that led through to an ensuite bathroom. It all looked very functional.

"So," Stacey murmured, "What do we do now?"

"Whatever you like," James replied easily, "It's your show."

"Okay."

There was an awkward pause. James stood in the middle of the room in just a towel.

"Why don't I rinse off first?" he suggested.

"Okay."

James took that as his cue, walking over to the ensuite door. He stopped and called over his shoulder.

"Why don't you come along and watch?"

I couldn't believe that James had said that, and Stacey stiffened immediately. James glanced at me, too.

"Both of you."

He slipped into the ensuite and I followed, spurring Stacey into motion as well, following along behind. James appeared to have a plan, and I was just going to have to go along with it.

In the ensuite, James made a show of turning the water on, testing it with his hand until it was hot. When he was satisfied, he turned to us both and undid the towel from his waist, exposing himself. My eyes went directly to his flaccid manhood, hanging between his legs, then I stole a glance at Stacey, noting that she was staring too. When I looked back at James, he was smiling. He knew exactly what he was doing, I realised.

"I could use some help, I can't reach my back."

Stacey didn't move, rooted to the spot.

"Just come in and give me a wash, it's all you need to do."

"I...."

"You can take off your clothes and come in here with me. Nothing's going to happen that you don't want," James continued, "You're in charge."

Those last words spurred a change in her, and she nodded curtly.

"I'm in charge," she echoed.

"Alice, you stay as you are. I only need Stacey in here."

I found myself nodding too, and I knew the meaning behind his words, the way he was laying down the parameters of the game, creating a safe space for the nervous woman standing next to me. But, the word themselves bit into me, the idea that my own husband had relegated me to a bystander as he was preparing to have sex with another woman. The more I went over his words, the more they felt like an order, that I was being ordered to stand quietly and watch him fuck someone else.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks, burning with shame, but there was another heat, deep in my core, a twisted, gorgeous feeling of being dismissed and relegated to a supporting character in my husband's games, forbidden to do anything but watch helplessly as he satisfied himself with Stacey.

Stacey began to strip, her eyes never leaving my husband's naked form, letting he dress pool around her ankles, exposing plain black underwear. She stalled, but James approached her, taking charge now, his eyes glittering. As his hands unclasped her bra, I wished that it was me. As his fingers slid her panties down her legs, I was filled with the irresistible urge to tear the belt from my crotch and bare myself fully for him. I could feel my moistness, locked securely away behind the implacable rubber panel secured tightly over me.

James took the naked woman by the hand and led her into the shower, letting the water cascade over their skin. His attention was fixed solely on her, looking down at her bare body, cradling her cheek in his hand, tenderly, like he would do with me. I felt forgotten, superfluous, caught watching a moment of intimacy between two people. Stacey went up on her tiptoes, her eyes staring into his, and I braced myself for what was about to happen, strangling the urge to call out, to try and stop it, as her lips rose to meet his.

Stacey kissed James, and the moment of contact, of her soft lips on his, sent a spike of envy straight through me. The indecision was gone now; she was going to make love to my husband, and I felt my knees go weak at the prospect. Slowly, silently, I sagged down onto the toilet seat, trying desperately to erase myself from their awareness. This was so much worse, this was so much more intense, there was so much more fire in my groin, than any of the other times, and it was because of the look in Stacey's eyes as she took her time, exploring my husband's lips, stroking his chest. Stacey didn't want a fuck, she was going to make love to him.

The water tumbled over them both; her hand slid down my husband's front, over the rippled terrain of his abdomen, down between his legs. For all her demure appearance, the woman in front of me knew what she wanted, released at last to explore and enjoy my husband's body. I could see her fingers wrap around his shaft, pumping gently until James was fully erect. Her fingers played over his tip, breaking off the kiss at last to look down at the effect she was having on him.

James took her small breasts in his hands, massaging them, trapping her dark, thick nipples between his fingers and squeezing lightly, making her gasp. He dropped slowly to his knees, looking up at her, the water cascading in rivulets off his chin. Once again, he was asking a question, and Stacey answered by running a hand through his sodden hair.

Side-on, I could see my husband's face, the rapt attention as his eyes fixed on Stacey's crotch, his fingers playing through the triangle of her pubic hair. Like the kiss, I knew what was coming, I knew what it would feel like to have his lips touch her there, to feel his tongue worming its way between her folds and sliding into her. I crossed my legs, feeling the hard rubber digging into me, pressed hard against my sopping crotch, squirming, feeling tiny amounts of friction as I tried to grind the unyielding cup against myself. My husband's face drew closer to Stacey's crotch, and I was helpless to do anything but stare.

He kissed her, his jaw moving in time, and I knew his tongue was inside her now. The delicious ache in my own crotch spiked, becoming unbearable. It had been weeks for me, starved of even the lightest touch, now forced to watch a stranger receiving what I had always taken for granted. Surreptitiously, my hand cupped my breast through the material of my dress. I lifted my breast free of my bra, locating the rigid point of my nipple through the fabric.

Stacey's body began to writhe, right in front of me, her eyes closed and her throat emitting low grunting noises as James worked on her pussy. I wanted to be there instead, I desperately wanted to be the woman in the shower with James between my legs, with his tongue deep inside me, with his lips around my clit. Muscle memory flooded back, replaying how it felt, and I squeezed my distended nipple mercilessly, sending a spike of pain and pleasure directly down into my clit.

My body arched, and I clamped my jaws shut, trying to strangle the cry as I tipped over into sympathetic orgasm, eyes locked on Stacey's body as she began to shudder and quake too, reaching her crest. I squeezed my nipple and came again, feeling the flood of release and then the moisture seeping through the slats of my belt, dampening my legs, spoiling the back of my dress. It was a shallow, vicarious climax, a pale comparison to what I could have experienced with James thrusting inside me, but after weeks of abstinence it felt glorious, like a feast. I shuddered again, then I saw James.

He was staring at me, water running down his face, kneeling in the shower with a towering erection, his head purple and distended. He'd seen what I'd done, what I'd brought myself to, and I felt at once utterly ashamed and completely liberated, all at the same time. I looked into those sea-grey eyes and knew that he knew my secret, the need that I had discovered to watch him, to see him bring pleasure to strangers.

He rose to his feet, shutting off the water, taking Stacey by the hand. He didn't say anything, leading her out of the ensuite into the bedroom. Her hair was wet, dripping onto the carpet, but he pushed her back onto the bed. She sprawled across the sheets, spread wide for him, her attention focused on his massive erection, a little, anxious look on her face.

"Alice."

I got to my feet, stumbling after them, conscious of the way my dress stuck to the back of me.

"Protection."

I looked up at him, but his expression was stern, almost ruthless. It wasn't a question, it was an order. I scrambled to comply, producing a little foil square and ripping it open.

"Put it on."

I stared at him, stunned by the commanding tone in his voice. This was still a game, but the rules had changed, and I was scrambling to keep up. I went down on my knees in front of him and took his manhood in one hand, feeling how firm he was in my fingers. Whatever we were doing, it had turned my husband on immensely. The way his eyes locked on mine, I was sure of only one thing: it had nothing to do with Stacey.

I rolled the sheath down his cock, all the way to his root, then felt him pull away from my grasp to position himself in front of the woman sprawled on the bed. He gave me one last look. I was still kneeling on the floor, my eyes level with his solid erection, but now superfluous to requirements as James prepared to fuck Stacey.

"Sit in the corner," he growled, and I found myself scurrying to comply, taking the chair in the corner of the room, crossing my legs, closing my mouth, vowing myself to silence.

James turned to Stacey, climbing onto the bed, positioning himself over her. He bent down to give her a long, lingering kiss, then guided himself into her. For all her initial hesitancy, Stacey was now powerfully aroused, allowing James to slide all the way into her in a single stroke. She whimpered at the sensation of being completely filled by my husband's rock-hard cock. James paused, scrutinising her.

"It's okay," she mumbled, "I'm okay."

James withdrew gradually, making Stacey shiver. He slid back into her carefully, taking his time, letting her adjust to the sensation.

"Been a while?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Say if it hurts."

"It doesn't."

I was silent in my little corner, invisible once more to the two people on the bed. James took his time with her, adjusting positions, keeping up a steady pace. Stacey responded willingly, letting James gather her legs up over his shoulders, lifting her groin so that he could drive himself more forcefully into her. She allowed him to break off, rolling her onto her front and pulling her up onto hands and knees so he could enter her from behind.

All the while, Stacey's expression was earnest, focused on my husband's face as he slid relentlessly into her, letting him dictate the pace. James seemed to be enjoying it also, bringing her close to orgasm and then shifting position again, until she began to let out little whimpers of dismay, until I could see the way she began to steel herself for the refusal even as she built up to orgasm.

All I could do was watch him toy with her, like he'd toyed with me in the past, bringing me mercilessly up to the brink and then refusing me my climax. James had already come once, with Skye, and his reserves of stamina were impressive, teasing and denying the woman on the bed until her eyes rolled back and she was forced into an exclamation.

"Please," she hissed, "I need it."

"Do you?"

"Yes, please James, please do it."

The tone of her voice, the way she was pleading, engendered the same feeling in me, the need. I'd managed to climax in the bathroom, but it wasn't enough, not after watching James playing with Stacey's body on the bed. The deep, insistent urge was back, and I found that I was crossing my legs again, grinding the belt into me. My attention was fixed on James, waiting for the inevitable culmination.

He seemed to sense me watching, because he turned to look at me. Without saying anything to Stacey, he withdrew from her, moving her again, positioning her face-down on the bed, her rear high in the air, her face turned away from me. Verry carefully, James adjusted her position until he was kneeling between her legs, his tip nuzzling her slit. His eyes fixed on mine and at that same movement, he drove powerfully into the willing entrance of the woman arranged in front of him.

I felt the shock of his intrusion deep in my core, as if I was linked to her somehow. James began to pound into her, his large hands spread wide across her buttocks, fingers pressed into the brown skin, holding her firmly in place. He didn't break eye contact with me, even as Stacey began to groan, her face pressed into the sheets, oblivious.

Mesmerised, I watched his long, powerful strokes, burying himself into the helpless woman on the bed. James was slaking his own need now, done playing the gracious host at this little party. This was the thing that Jodie had denied him too by belting me: the satisfaction of penetration. My hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, the heel of one hand pressing hard into the space between my legs, my free hand massaging my rigid nipple, tweaking hard, building my body up again.

My husband's lips curled up into a snarl, his face like thunder now, reddened, perspiring, as he pounded into the woman on the bed. But all his attention was on me; I was caught in the headlights, unable to look away, taking in the view of my husband's powerful, bare body, his rippling muscles, his cock disappearing into Stacey's entrance over and over. He mouthed words to me, silently: I love you.

It triggered a surge deep within me, and I felt myself building as he glared at me, Stacey now long-forgotten between us. He bared his teeth, taking tiny breaths, the cords of his neck standing out. I was aware of a high noise, but it didn't matter: Stacey was orgasming powerfully beneath his onslaught, irrelevant.

I squeezed myself hard, feeling the blood pulse in my nipple, my thighs lock with the tension of grinding the merciless belt into my groin, and somewhere in amongst all of that, I felt the delicious, familiar tightness in my core. My eyes rolled back in my head and I allowed the orgasm to sweep over me. Stacey screeched, and James cried out, but that was all somewhere in the distance, lost in the waves of my own climax as it rolled on and on.

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[Next: In the final chapter, Alice struggles in chastity as she finds out who her friends and who are her enemies.

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