Time Rider Ch. 03

"Well, thank you," she said cheerfully as she found a bottle of wine and opened it. "I think you will like this wine, the vintner made several bottles for me personally."

"Uh, yeah, thanks." Mark said, moving over to a chair she gestured to and sitting in it. She sat in the other one, across the small, ornate table from him. He couldn't identify why, but she felt... sensuously close to him.

"So now," she began, taking a sip of her wine but looking at him over her goblet. "What is so important that dear Chester has called in a favour?"

"Whoah, uh..." Mark faltered, rubbing the back of his head again. "I... I hardly know where to begin."

"To quote another associate of mine from a time beyond this one," she lilted, still looking at him. "Just give it to me fast and dirty."

Mark hadn't been aware of the erection in his pants until she said that, which caused his hard-on to throb so suddenly it almost shocked him. He pursed his lips as he fought to control himself. All the while, Alexandra looked on in amusement.

"Okay," he said finally. "My teacher and I are lovers."

"Bien," she said easily, taking another sip. "The best way for our youth to be trained is if their professeurs are readily involved with them."

Mark ignored that logic for the moment (not that he objected to it) and continued. "Before that, I found a time machine. You... you know what I mean by that?"

She nodded.

"We came back to the Sun King's France to have some fun. Chester was attempting to educate us about how to safely observe history and led us to a small event."

"And this is where everything, as New Worlders from tomorrow will say, 'went south'."

"Yeah," he said heavily. "Becky and I got tired of waiting for the event and figured we were hiding, so we started, y'know..."

"Fucking?" Alexandra posited.

Mark nodded, hopefully concealing the shiver that raced through him when she said that word. "I guess we got a little too loud, because suddenly we were surrounded by men with guns and pikes and they took us to an encampment not far away, one dominated by red tents."

The blonde woman's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Richelieu."

Mark nodded. "He decided that Becky would be-"

"Excuse," she interrupted, apparently wanting to clarify something. "Becky?"

"Yeah, uh, my teacher, Rebecca." Mark confirmed.

"Becky," Alexandra repeated quietly to herself, as if trying to get a taste for the word. "What a delightful diminutive. Women named Rebecca in this day are not so blessed. Please, continue."

"Uh... anyhoo, I-"

"Who?" Alexandra asked, confused.

Mark screwed his face up for a moment. He was getting so comfortable talking to this woman, it was difficult to remember he knew absolutely nothing about her. "It's... a slang term from my time, meaning anyhow."

She tilted her head. "Anyhow?"

Mark paused. "Anyway?"

"Yes, that one I know," she said, smiling. "Anyhoo, please continue, my friend."

Mark nodded, happy to be back on course. "Richelieu took Becky and one of his captains shot me in the stomach with a pistol and they all left me for dead."

"And yet, tabernac, here you are, hale and hardy." Alexandra mused. "I may assume that our mutual associate Chester is the one that healed you?"

"That's what I'm told." Mark agreed. "Wasn't really conscious for it."

"Now I understand that you had been shot and were in the process of dying, but did you happen to hear anything the Cardinal or his men said about their plans for your Becky?"

Mark nodded grimly. "They were gonna make a gift of her to the queen. Like, turn her into a lady-in-waiting?"

"And that is where I fit into this," Alexandra said gravely, her voice deeper than it had been. "He is asking me to help you rescue your teacher, so that you may return to your own age."

Mark nodded again. "He didn't say it, but it sounded like he was calling in a big deal."

Alexandra rolled her eyes and hook her head, smiling lightly. "No, he just doesn't want this to come back on him somehow, since he sent you into harm's way with Richelieu, whom he has several... 'entanglements' with. I'm not quite sure what he was thinking, he despises the Cardinal."

"Good to know he didn't do it on purpose," Mark muttered. "The last guy in your time who tried to dick us around, Becky was not kind to him."

The hostess raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Might one inquire?"

"He recommended an inn to us, in a small town, then sent thugs to rob us. Becky... took that very personally."

"I can understand," she said lightly. "Please, do go on."

Mark blushed again. "We were having sex in our bathing tub in our room when the thugs burst in just as she was about to... well..."

"L'orgasme." Alexandra said helpfully.

"Yeah, that. Becky was really pissed about it and she pretty much beat the living shit out of all of them."

"I like the sound of her already," she mused, smiling. "Mais, where were you?"

"Oh, I helped, don't worry," he replied, allaying her apparent fears that he'd been hiding in a corner. "It's just that... well, she was kind of a whirlwind of violence and it didn't last long. After that, she made the ringleader confess who'd sent him when she jammed his pistol up his ass."

"Sang-Dieu, she sounds quite terrifying." Alexandra breathed, fanning herself for effect before pouring another cup of wine. "Then what?"

"Well, we spent a full week at the inn, without charge because the inkeeper let it happen, and we got all our food and wine for free, and he let us fuck his daughters all week too, provided we didn't tell anyone about the incident."

Alexandra tittered behind her hand. "Ma'amselle Becky, elle est bisexuelle, oui? Quelle merveilleuse! Do go on, Mark."

"Well, after a week of debauchery, the trail led back to the man who recommended the inn, knowing we'd be attacked. Becky got her hands on him, roughed him up a bit, then we left him tied naked on his hands and knees in the woods, with olive oil dripping off his ass. I think Becky was hoping a bunch of wolves would have their way with him, y'know?"

"I am sure I do not, but all the same, your Becky sounds like a very strong woman."

"Actually," Mark said, blushing again. "She reminds me of you, or you remind me of her. You actually look quite a bit alike."

She smiled sweetly and reached forward to touch his knee. "High praise for me indeed, then. Am I right in assuming that she speaks French since you do not?"

Mark nodded.

"Then she should be safe inside the Louvre, which is where my mistress the queen is currently staying," Alexandra concluded. "So his Eminence is playing another little game, to make my mistress feel bad by bringing beautiful women into her service? We shall see to this, Mark, I promise you."

"Thanks," he said. "I really, really appreciate this. You have no idea."

"She must be very special to you." Alexandra said slyly.

"Well, we're not in love, or anything," he said hastily, wishing he didn't have to keep explaining this. "But yeah, I guess you could say we're fond of one another, and she's the only person I time travel with."

"Were I you," Alexandra said, sitting back now and taking another sip of one while crossing one leg over the other. "I would try to keep it that way. It has been explained to me, and it seems perfectly logical, that things just get more complicated when you involve other people or try to do too many things?"

"You don't look at all like you're from this time," Mark admitted. "Are you actually from the Sun King's France?"

She nodded. "That I am, to a noble family of ancient lineage, going even back to the reign of Charlemagne. But in service to my queen, I take very good care of myself and am in the peak of health."

"No kidding," Mark breathed, earning a smirk from Alexandra. "Chester said you're good with a sword?"

She shrugged in a non-committal manner. "Suffice to say that I am not afraid to take on Les Troi Inseparables."

Mark assumed that she meant Athos, Porthos and Aramis. "D'Artagnan too?"

She laughed, a beautiful, crystalline sound. "Aye, even the irascible Gascon. Nor do I cringe before the Duke of Buckingham, who is said to be the greatest swordsman in Christendom, barring possibly my brother."

"No recognition for you?"

She shook her head. "I dare not, my service to the queen would be compromised. I am not driven by fame, Mark, but devotion and duty. Secrecy is all that allows me to continue in my task."

"You're like Wonder Woman." Mark laughed.

She looked at him and tilted her head. "Comment?"

"A fictional heroine from my own time," he said, waving it off. "She's powerful, she's brilliant, she can fight, she can fly, she's compassionate. They've been writing and drawing stories about her for about seventy years now."

"It sounds fun," she sighed. "But I do not wish to be ensnared in these time troubles, and I do everything I can to avoid them. The less I know, the better. Protecting my queen is enough."

He nodded. "I promise to try and not add to your troubles in this, and I'm sorry."

"You needn't be," she said easily, draining her glass. "The debt I owe Chester for this is many years old, I am surprised that he has not called it in before now, to be honest. How long has Becky been at the Louvre?"

Mark thought about that. "Uhhhh... a week to get to the palace from where we were... then three weeks... and then it took me a week to get here, so best guess is four weeks."

Alexandra nodded and considered. "The initial intense scrutiny she would have been under will be relaxing after a month. They are no doubt still training her, but she sounds very bright, so they will be eager to move her into the court."

Mark nodded. "Alright, what do we do? Run in with pistols blazing and swords unsheathed?"

She paused in her ruminations and looked at him for a moment before shaking her head slowly, saying nothing. She poured herself another glass of wine and nocked it back before sighing and returning to her thoughts.

"Uh, may I ask a question?" Mark said somewhat meekly.

Alexandra looked at him and waited.

"If... you're one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting," Mark said somewhat awkwardly. "Shouldn't you have at least seen or have heard of Becky by now? I gotta admit, she's like you, she's really hard to miss."

The French woman smiled prettily. "I have been away some two months now on a delicate errand for my queen, one that took me south to Spain."

"Pretending I was from Spain got me shot." Mark grumbled.

Alexandra raised her eyebrows. "Ah, tu hablas español?"

"Nooooooope," Mark said, holding up his hands. "Not goin' through this again. So, what do we do, Miss... uh, Miss..."

"Just call me Alexandra, cher," she said easily. "And if we become friends, you may call me Alexa."

He nodded. "Okay, Alexandra. What is our plan?"

"I shall think on that," she replied. "We will not be doing anything until at least tomorrow, I assure you. I only returned this morning and even the queen does not know I am back yet. That being said, you will be my guest here in my private apartments."

"Uh, okay," he said. "That doesn't sound too bad, I guess."

"It is convenient, for one thing, but another is perhaps a bit more personal and selfish on my part," Alexandra added. "Be honest with me, Mark."

"Okay."

"Would your Becky be hurt or jealous if you and I were to fuck?" she asked plainly.

Mark thought about that for a moment and then shook his head. "She'd probably think there was something wrong with me if I didn't to be honest. Besides, if she thinks I'm dead, what's the harm?"

"Bien," the woman stated, nodding and standing. "Tonight, you and I shall, oh, what is that English saying... ride below the crupper."

"Never heard that, but I'm in," he said, chuckling.

"And do not worry, unlike most people of this day and age, I bathe daily, so you should not find my closeness offensive." Alexandra added.

"I'm pretty sure you could smell like a Republican healthcare bill and I wouldn't notice," he laughed. "Don't you have quarters at the Louvre?"

She nodded. "Oui, but my mistress allows me to stay here when possible, since I am closer to the people of Paris this way. I can look out my window, see them and remind myself of my duty to them."

"You're pretty complicated for a noblewoman." Mark admitted. "History doesn't think much of your class of people."

"A deserved indictment, no doubt," she sighed. "Alors, I did not keep you here to bore you with such ephemera, I intend to pleasure you before making you risk your life again in the days ahead."

He watched from his chair as she slowly turned around and began to remove the rather poofy blouse she was wearing, revealing her shapely back. She was beautiful, but now he could see the lines of athleticism in her shoulders and torso, and still somehow with the affectation of being delicate and womanly. Alexandra then lifted one leg and removed her short boot deftly, followed by the other. Her feet were surprisingly dainty, but they seemed to be planted firmly on the floor.

Undoing the tie of her breeches, she wiggled them down over her lovely hips, exposing her incredible behind. She bent over to push the article of clothing down the rest of her statuesque legs and in spite of the dim light, he could almost see her pussy just below those temping cheeks.

She stood up straight and stepped elegantly out of the pool of her breeches, putting her hands over her bust as she turned her head to smile at him coyly. As he watched, she slowly came around so she was facing him now. If Mark's jaw could have literally fallen off, it would have. In the flickering candlelight, she was bewitching to behold. Her skin was creamy and flawless, fair and yearning to be kissed. Her womanly hips carried strength, melting into her glorious legs. Her womanhood was hairless, something he didn't associate at all with the period.

"So, do you like what you see?" she purred, enjoying his reaction. He nodded dumbly and she allowed her hands to fall away from her breasts, revealing them. Large and perfectly shaped, sitting high no doubt because of her strong back and shoulders, and crowned with small, pink nipples that made his mouth water.

"Now perhaps it is time for you to show me," Alexandra said softly, smiling. "Stand up and let me see you, Mark."

He couldn't do a thing about his hard-on, so he didn't even bother trying to conceal it. Still sitting, he removed his boots and socks before standing. Without any of the grace displayed by his new lover, Mark fumbled off his shirt, revealing his chest. He wasn't overly muscular, of course, but he had more than enough tone and definition because of the sports he'd played. She smiled and just watched quietly.

He undid the tie of his breeches and bent over to pull them off. When he stood back up, his cock sprang to full attention, wobbling in front of him slightly. Alexandra nodded, apparently in approval.

"Men of days to come seem to be gifted." Alexandra stated in a sultry voice as she stepped forward, moving toward him. Mark could feel his heart thundering in his chest as the blonde goddess got closer and closer to him. She was then standing directly in front of him, her glorious body almost touching the tip of his pulsing erection. He thought he might cum right on the spot.

Her perfect hand slowly reached out to take hold of him, the fingers wrapping around gently and giving him the lightest of squeezes.

"And now," she said in a whisper. "We shall-"

The lock on the door clunked before it flew open and in stepped a young woman with wavy dark hair and eyes, apparently not noticing the activity within.

"I am back, mistress," the girl chirped as she shut the door and locked it again. She seemed cheerful and energetic, her green dress twirling about her prettily. "I bought some wine and also the soap packets that you- oh! My apologies, mistress, I did not know you were busy!"

"Do not worry, Lisette," Alexandra said easily, clearly not at all surprised to see the girl while Mark just gaped. Her hand was still on his cock and stroking gently as she acknowledged the newcomer. "You're just in time to share dessert with me..."

***

Author's Notes: Yup, surprisingly little sex this time around, and lots of temporal stuff. If you have complaints or tantrums, they'll be handled by the fire-breathing dragon in the next booth over. Buh-bye.

I have a weakness for intimate detail. And where I give it to such things, I try to keep the mood and reading relatively light, so that it isn't drudgery. I wanted to establish some temporal things early on, rather than later. Don't worry your thirsty selves, there's plenty of depraved sex to come.

Alexandra is not a spin-off story I'm publishing here, but rather an erotic novel I'm legit publishing. I know I'm not allowed to promote my stuff, so I ain't gonna, I simply wanted to straighten that out and I just felt like using her as an incidental character. It'll be fun.

Mark getting shot by Richelieu's men is hopefully unexpected and took at least a few people by surprise. He's still something of a doughhead when it comes to temporal mechanics (okay, a LOT of a doughhead), who spends half his time thinking the universe is trying to cock-block him and the other half, trying to learn before he gets his ass killed. And he ain't happy about it.

Becky, as you may have noticed, has an irascible side to her. Her rant at Richelieu about not dancing a Sarabande for him refers to an incident in Dumas' Three Musketeers novel where the Cardinal embarrassed himself by dancing a Sarabande for a woman he wanted to impress and she laughed at him. Since Becky couldn't physically reach him, that was probably the best she could do.

It amused me to add the little Airborne dig in there. Ironically, these modern voodoos won't save you from Medieval illnesses, but the Bubonic Plague apparently kills the HIV virus, as does malaria. Go figure, eh?

Looking at my handy-dandy publishing schedule, it sez that Twin Cities Tryst is up next. Janie and I continue to light up the town, drink-by-drink, and stripper-by-stripper. Hope to see you there.

Keep your stick on the ice!

Management.