Gerald and Alexandra

Gerald and Alexandra

second draft

01 February-24 May 1990

19 years old

** One **

The first moment he saw her, Gerald knew he had to have her. Her long, red-blonde hair, and grey-green eyes glinting with danger held him enthralled. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t noticed her before.

He looked at the girl he was sitting next to. He’d been hitting on her (very gently, so as not to scare her away) since classes began three weeks ago. Until yesterday, Gina’s crassness and foul mouth turned him on. But after noticing—really seeing—the girl across from him, Gina now repulsed him. Who was she trying to impress, anyway? No, seeing the Girl, her beauty and soft, voluptuous, yet shapely, body contrasted sharply by the glint of knowledge and danger in her eyes, who rarely said anything, was much more of a turn-on than the bitch beside him. He looked once again at the Girl sitting across from him. He sat staring at her, entranced, unable to look away.

She sensed him looking at her and raised her downcast eyes to meet his. She simply looked at him, her expression unchanged, and then looked away again. Many men looked at her, but few expended the energy to look twice. The ones who did, however, were struck by a deep, mystical beauty that few saw at first glance. It was a beauty that bespoke knowledge: A carnal, dark knowledge that shouldn’t be sought but by the brave and strong-willed. It was a knowledge that dared not be denied.

She looked away, fully aware of the power she held over men who saw that beauty, that dark, forbidden beauty. Poor lamb, she thought. Just like all the rest. No mind or will of his own. So unlike her dark, sweet Christoph, the only man who could contain her, who held power and influence over her, who knew her inside and out the moment they’d first set eyes on each other. The only one who was unafraid of her because he was just like her. They were identical in their thoughts and ways. A perfect match for each other.

Let him stare, she thought. Let him have his fill and count his blessings, the fool.

Gerald was unable to tear his gaze from her face. When she looked up and stared back levelly, he felt the blood rising to his face, turning his neck and ears a dull, hot red. But still he could not bring himself to tear his eyes from hers. As she looked away, her expression remained unchanged. Gerald felt as if he were a simple specimen viewed over and over through a microscope, and she a disinterested scientist.

“So, what do you think of the new baseball schedule?” asked Gina. She was trying hard to convince Gerald of her interest in his sport. Too hard.

“Gerry,” she prodded when he didn’t answer, then turned her head to look at him. When she saw Gerald staring at the girl across from them, she frowned and nudged his elbow, which was resting on his desk. He awoke from his transfixed state and looked at Gina, a little perturbed. She, in turn, appeared to be in a state of pique, her jealousy getting the better of her.

“What?” he asked.

“Did you hear what the hell I just said?”

“Uh…” he stammered.

“Shit. That’s what I thought.”

“Gina, I’m sorry. What did—”

“Forget it,” she replied curtly. “Just fuckin’ forget it. It wasn’t important, anyway. Asshole.” She was positive she had been getting through to Gerald… Until he saw her. He’d never paid much attention to that one before—so why now? Why, period? She couldn’t see the attraction.

Gerald managed to hold his admiration at bay for most of the class period, but could not keep his eyes off Her for long. His gaze kept stealing to Her face, Her eyes, time and again. Occasionally She rewarded him with a brief, unaffected glance, then looked away again, disinterested. Uninterested. Gerald felt his desire build and he stirred uncomfortably in his chair.

And Gina watched, a spectator now, no longer a player in Gerald’s shallow heart. Contempt and hate brewed in the pit of her stomach.

** Two **

The next day, Gerald walked into his history class, infinitely relieved that this was his only class for the day. As he shuffled to his desk, he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened as they fixed on Her and he thought he uttered a noise, possible croaked out an “Oh my God,” but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that She was here. He put forth a heroic effort and averted his eyes before She saw him, and forced his feet to carry him, if a little unsteadily, to his desk.

She knew he was there. She didn’t need to turn her head to see him standing there, bug-eyed, mouth agape like a child seeing his hero in person for the first time. She just knew. She sensed him. Like a dog senses fear, she could sense the fear in him, fear mingled with desire. Lust. She could virtually taste it railing from his mind in pounding waves. It made her mouth water, her body shudder in anticipation of the ecstasy he could bring to her and Christoph.

Gerald eased himself into his desk, taking care She didn’t notice him. He pulled his notebook out and dated it, preparing for the day’s lecture. Then he looked up. From his desk, laced in the back of the room, he had a good vantage point. He could see everyone clearly with a slight turn of his head in any direction. He enjoyed this. It gave him a feeling of power, as if he had an advantage over everyone else in the room. Gerald called it “keeping his back to the wall.” If anything should happen, he’d be the first to notice and react.

He looked bravely, he thought, fearlessly—at the Girl sitting to his right, two desks over. Immediately he felt his lust stirring between his legs as the fear burned a hole in his stomach. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, making his desire all the more intense. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, at the same time accepting the simple fact that he must have Her. It was a simple matter of life or death. But when? How? “No time like the present,” he answered himself, and tore the dated paper from his notebook.

The smiled to herself, reading his thoughts as clearly as if they were her own. Midway through the class, someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around inquiringly, though she knew well what she was to receive. A note was handed to her and she took it, frowning slightly, adorning an air of perplexity. She opened it for appearance’s sake, and read it.

“Who are you?” it read. She turned her head and regarded Gerald appraisingly.

He couldn’t be a day older than nineteen, yet his hairline had receded dramatically, and the hair left was thin and sparse. His dull, unintelligent, brown eyes were close-set—pig’s eyes— barely separated by his long, thin, razor-edge nose. He was short and compactly built, with square hands and short fingers. His feet—well, now there was something worth pondering—his feet were absolutely dainty.

But the life in him…! It nearly made her lips quiver in anticipation.

She looked down again at the note. Who are you?

She picked up her pen and wrote, Alexandra, then passed the paper back to him. Moments later, she felt another tap at her shoulder and she reached around to take the note again.

Such games he plays, she thought. I could fill his head so full of reality at a mere though, that his brain would explode and leak from his ears. But she chose instead, for the betterment of all, to play his mortal games.

She opened the note. Will you have dinner with me tonight?

Alexandra signed with contempt. This man had not gift for subtlety. She wrote her response and returned it to the boy between them.

He glared at her from his own note taking. “What do I look like? Your messenger service?”

Alexandra stared at him levelly and proffered the square of folded paper once again. His gaze faltered and he grabbed it from her extended hand, passing it to Gerald on his left.

Gerald accepted the note, his heart pounding within his chest cavity. He anxiously held his breath, not realizing he was doing so, as he unfolded the paper to read Alexandra’s response. He let his breath out in a gust. She had accepted his invitation, but at the bottom she’d written, Meet me at Rosario’s, tomorrow, 8:00pm. A table will be reserved.

Gerald felt somewhat thrown by her straight-forwardness, but it only added to his fascination for her exotic beauty. He started at her for a moment, noting how out of place she seemed in these surroundings. She had an other-worldliness about her that defied her apparent age—twenty-one? Twenty-two?—and it just didn’t fit in university campus. He didn’t know why, but noticing that sent shivers down his spine as the palms of hands became damp with sweat.

** Three **

Alexandra arrived home early, deciding it was unnecessary to attend her classes, now that things were settled, their problems solved.

“Christoph!” she yelled into the apartment, her voice echoing through the emptiness. “Christoph! I have news! Christoph!” she called out, closing the door behind her. “Damn!” she muttered. “Where the hell is he?”

She sensed a presence behind her. She turned around swiftly, tensing for an attack. But instead of an intruder, she found her husband descending soundlessly from his perch on the balcony.

“I’m right here, my love, with you as always,” he murmured into her hair as he took her into his arms.

“Oh, Christoph! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Don’t worry, my love. No one will discover us. No here. I promise you.”

“I love you,” she said softly, holding him tighter to suppress the shudder that rippled through her.

“I love you, too, my darling,” he said reassuringly. “Now! What is it you have to tell me? Hmm?”

Alexandra’s face brightened. “I found one. A man. A bit dull-witted but he possesses a strong soul. He would do well for us, for a day or two. We meet with him tomorrow night.”

“Excellent! And now I have a surprise for you, my dear. A rather delectable morsel that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

Alexandra trembled in anticipation, running her tongue over her teeth.

“When?” she whispered.

“Tonight. 7:15. Rosario’s”

Dusk fell as Christoph and Alexandra prepared themselves for dinner. Alexandra glanced several times at her husband. She looked at him lovingly, watching him dress, his long, well-muscled legs covered flatteringly by his snug denim jeans, his buttocks stretching the fabric enticingly. She ran her hand over his smooth, broad shoulders as she looked into his large hazel eyes framed by long black lashes. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair and stared longingly at his full mouth.

“I want you,” she whispered huskily.

“Not now, my love,” he denied her gently. “I have something else in mind for you.”

She whimpered softly as he untangled her fingers from his hair.

“Later,” he promised.

They arrived at the restaurant shortly after seven. As the maitre d’ led them to a table, Alexandra asked, “So when will I see this tasty morsel you have chosen for me?”

“Soon enough. Have patience, little one.”

They engaged in light conversation and within minutes, the maitre d’ interrupted with a polite cough. Christoph looked up. “Yes?”

“Your third party, sir.”

“Ah, of course. Thank you.”

Alexandra pulled in her breath audibly as Christoph guided the young woman into a chair between them. She was stunning. Long, blonde hair, slender body, and a virginal face. Yet there was a somewhat corrupt air about her.

Alexandra was well pleased.

“My dear, please meet our new friend, Michele.”

Alexandra reached for the young woman’s hand and smiled. “I’m delighted to meet you, Michele. Christoph didn’t tell me what a beauty you are.” She glanced at him and thought, I had no idea.

Christoph smiled first at his wife, then at the girl. I knew you’d like her.

Although their lips hadn’t moved, Michele was aware that some transaction had taken place between Christoph and his companion, and fidgeted nervously. She hoped this wouldn’t be awkward.

And bright too, Alexandra added.

Of course. Nothing but the best for you, my love.

This time it was Alexandra who smiled and Michele felt unnerved. She sensed something, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her heart raced and her impulse was to run as fast and far away as she could. But instead, she stirred uncomfortably in her seat and smiled wanly back at the other woman.

“Let’s order, shall we?” Christoph suggested cheerfully.

When their meals arrived, Michele attacked her ravenously. Christoph and Alexandra merely picked at theirs, but Michele, occupied with sating her own peculiarly ravenous appetite, barely noticed. She quaffed glass after glass of wine, Christoph refilling her glass as soon as it was drained, each time with that hypnotic smile on his face that made her agree to meet him in the first place. Whenever he glanced at her and smiled like that, everything suddenly seemed as it should be.

“My, what an appetite you have, Michele,” Alexandra commented.

Michele looked up from her plate, mouth full, eyes wide as if startled out of a trance. She swallowed the mass of food with some difficulty, then managed to compose herself. “Umm,” she began apologetically. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t know what came over me. All of a sudden I was… I just couldn’t help myself.”

Christoph and Alexandra exchanged glances.

“No need to apologize,” he reassured the girl. “The food here is excellent and often has that effect on those who partake. My wife and I come here frequently, and I’m sad to admit that it seems to have lost its charm for me.”

Michele choked.

“Are you all right?” Alexandra asked, touching the girl’s arm and frowning.

“Umm, yeah. I guess. You, uh… You two are… married?”

“Of course. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that? I thought I’d told you. In fact, I’m sure I did,” Christoph insisted.

Michele shook her head. “No, Christoph. You didn’t.”

“Michele,” interrupted Alexandra. “Tell me. Where do you go to school?”

Michele hesitated, debating whether or not to pursue the subject, and decided against it. The sooner this night was over, she thought, the better. “I go to Briton College. I’m a senior there. I’ll be getting my bachelor’s degree in the spring.”

“Interesting. I attend Briton, as well. Would you happen to know a philosophy major named Gerald?”

“Gerald?” Michele repeated, trying to place the name. “No, it doesn’t sound familiar. I don’t think I know any Geralds. But it’s a small school and I’ve probably seen him around. Why haven’t I seen you around? I can’t remember seeing you before, and yours is not a face one could easily forget… If you don’t mind my saying so.”

As she stared at Alexandra’s features, she found herself becoming aroused, much to her amazement. They gazed at each other meaningfully and there was no room for guessing games.

Alexandra glanced at Christoph and smiled. Christoph leaned back in his chair and smiled at Michele. Michele sipped from her wine glass—once again quite full—and smiled at them both.

Christoph, Alexandra, and Michele walked out of the restaurant and into the cold night air, Michele’s arms links through Christoph’s on her right, and Alexandra’s on her left. She laughed easily at Christoph’s witty comments and even at her own half-jokes. Alexandra joined in the melee occasionally, but for the most part, remained silent to smile at her own private thoughts concerning the night’s forthcoming events.

After weaving their way through several dark alleys, the trio reached an old dilapidated apartment building. Christoph held the door open for the two women, bowing gallantly as he they passed through. Michele giggled, drunk from the wine.

Following Michele through the doorway, Alexandra glanced at Christoph and smiled demurely. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For you, my love,” he murmured, and followed his wife into the lobby.

“Is this where you live?” Michele inquired, if a little loudly.

“Close,” smiled Christoph. “We must first walk up a few stairs.”

“Of course.” Michele sat down heavily on one of the stair risers. “But I think I’m going to need a little help. Aren’t there any elevators in this place?”

Christoph laughed and gathered Michele into his arms.

“No elevators,” Alexandra answered.

“I thought you two would be classy enough to have elevators. It must get pretty tiring carrying your guests up all of these stairs all the time. You must be a lot stronger than you look, big boy, an’ you look awfully strong.”

“We don’t live here. At least not permanently,” replied Christoph as they reached the fourth floor. “We are here only temporarily. We entertain frequently and are currently in the process of redecorating our place of residence. So, we subleased this place to do our entertaining. And you have the honours of being our first guest in this place.” He glanced at Alexandra while unlocking the door, and she nodded in approval.

Opening the door, he said, “I admit, it is a bit Spartan. We moved what we could from the house to make it as comfortable as possible, but as you can see, there are no elevators. A minor inconvenience.”

“Wow,” breathed Michele. She found it difficult to believe that such a small space could be made to look so exquisite. The floor was oak hardwood, highly polished. She looked down at her feet and could see a dim reflection of herself in the veneer. In the centre of the room was a large oriental rug. And original, she supposed from the look of it. Around the perimeter of the rug were large, overstuffed pillows.

Upon which to sit, she assumed. Or lie down, she amended.

The walls were painted a dark grey and the expensive, dim lighting and strategically placed candles cast mysterious shadows upon them. In the corners, it almost appeared as if the shadows formed vague, half-seen, moving shapes. The large louvered doors that led out to the balcony were covered with black, wide-slatted Levolores, with a heavy black material draped dramatically around them, a frame of fabric. It reminded Michele of a coffin lining.

“I’ll turn on some music,” Christoph announced. “Would anyone like drinks?”

“Um, yes, please,” answered Michele.

Christoph nodded and headed into the kitchen not more than a dozen paces away. Soon, strains of Beethoven filtered into the room through hidden speakers.

“Please,” requested Alexandra, lighting the rest of the candles. “Sit down.”

Michele lowered herself onto a pillow and began to take off her shoes.

“No, let me do that,” Alexandra said, moving toward her.

Michelle hesitated for a moment, then allowed Alexandra to take her shoes off, sighing involuntarily as she did so.

“Do your feet hurt?”

Michele nodded. “Yes.”

“Then I will massage them for you. Lay back. There’s another pillow direction behind you.”

Michele did as she was told, but instead of a pillow, she found a lap. She looked up and saw Christoph’s face smiling down at her. He suddenly seemed predatory to her, but instead of fear, she felt aroused.

As Alexandra massaged her feet, Christoph unbuttoned Michele’s blouse, running his hands lightly over her nipples. Michele closed her eyes as Alexandra kneaded her way slowly up Michele’s legs, then between her thighs. Michele gasped suddenly as Alexandra slipped her fingers under the elastic of her panties and penetrating the warm, wet flesh there.

“Are you comfortable?” Alexandra murmured in Michele’s ear.

Michele’s eyes popped open, startled, remembering that it was Alexandra between her legs and not Christoph. She nodded, a little stupefied.

“Good. Don’t be afraid. We’re good friends, now. Very good friends.”

Alexandra kissed her neck, playing with Michele’s ear with her tongue. Very gently, she removed Michele’s clothes, stroking her body, slowly caressing her breasts. She bent to capture a hard, erect nipple between her teeth, teasing it with her tongue.

Michele gasped in spite of herself. Alexandra’s hot, moist breath was more tantalizing than any man she had ever experienced. She moaned softly when she felt Alexandra’s fingers steal once again between her thighs to penetrate her fiercely, bringing out her wetness and spreading it over her clitoris. Alexandra was gentle at first, but her knowledgeable fingers increased their pressure and rhythm slowly, steadily bringing her to the brink of orgasm. She stopped suddenly, thrusting her fingers back inside, then brought her fingers out again to push into her own mouth, licking them, tasting her.

Moving over her, Alexandra’s face hovered inches over Michele’s. “I want you to know how you taste,” she said, bringing her mouth down roughly over Michele’s in a passionate lover’s kiss.

When Alexandra and Christoph left the apartment several hours later, Michele was not with them.

** Four **

Gerald paced nervously around his room, checking the mirror periodically to make sure nothing was missing, out place, or peeking from behind his fly. He was early, as he tended to be when he was nervous. Unable to sleep the night before, he’d gotten out of bed earlier that morning than was necessary, but he didn’t have the nerve to go to class, knowing that Alexandra would be there.

“Alexandra,” he whispered to the empty room, savouring the nuances, the way the letters flowed over this tongue. “Alexandra.”

He sighed, and his heart skipped in anticipation. Alexandra. He thought of taking her in his arms, running his fingers through her golden-red hair, kissing her full, voluptuous mouth. And fucking her.

Unable to hold back any longer, Gerald locked himself in the bathroom and jerked himself off.

Thirty minutes later, Gerald stepped out of the cab which had pulled up in front of Rosario’s. His stomach lurching and his heart beating madly within his chest, he took a deep breath and walked into the restaurant. He stood inside the foyer and peered into the main dining room uncertainly. Soon, he craned his neck indecorously, attempting to catch a glimpse of Alexandra, but to no avail. “Maybe the bitch stood me up,” he thought when the maitre d’ accosted him.

“May I help you, sir?” the other man asked with a slight tone of condescension, stressing the “sir” a little more than was necessary.

“Uh, yeah,” Gerald replied. “I’m here with the party… Uh, oh shit.” He suddenly realized that he didn’t know whose name Alexandra had made reservations under.

“Which party was that?” asked the maitre d’ a little smugly.

“I’m not sure. I—”

Just then, Alexandra appeared beside him.

“There you are, Gerald! We’ve been wondering when you’d show.” And then to maitre d’, she said, “Thank you for taking care of Gerald for us, Giorgio.” She flashed that brilliant smile of hers.

“Any time, Madame,” Giorgio fawned.

Taking Gerald by the arm and leading him into the dining room, she said, “Really, Gerald. What took you so long? We’d begun to think you weren’t coming.”

We?

“Well, actually, I thought I was early…”

“Never mind. As long as you’re here.”

She led him toward a secluded table in the corner, occupied by a dark man, quite handsome, and dressed in black. To Gerald’s bewilderment, she stood beside the man as if expecting to be seated. The gentleman, now standing, said to Gerald, “Would you care to do the honours, or shall I?”

“This man is your husband?” Gerald shouted. Couples and dinner parties nearby hushed conversations in subdued tones, and turned to look questioningly at the trio formerly sitting inconspicuously at the darkened table.

“Now, Gerald, there’s no need to overreact,” Alexandra soothed.

“Over—” He looked uncomfortably at the faces peering at him, smiling wanly. “Overreact?” he said quietly. “How in the hell can you overreact when the woman you are having dinner with decides at the last moment to bring her husband along—” His voice trailed off as Christoph smiled warmly, the situation slowly dawning on him.

“What’re you two perverts or something? I’ll tell you right now, I don’t go for any of that shit, you know what I mean? My back door’s a one-way exit. No entry. You know what I mean? And my dork’s for girls only. I’m that on the line right now. Don’t give me no trouble later, understand? I’m no pervert.” His voice had risen again, drawing further attention to the trio.

“We thank you for your… candidness, Gerald,” began Christoph. “I assure you, we are not perverts, as you so tactfully put it. I simply enjoy seeing my wife enjoy herself—or others, if you will. You see, I have this little problem…” Christoph gestured discreetly toward his own groin beneath the table.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” Gerald interjected. “You don’t need to explain. I just wanted to make sure everything was, uh… straight with you.”

“Gerald, as I said before, there is no cause for alarm. Now,” Christoph said, rubbing his hands together and looking to Alexandra. “Let’s order, shall we? I feel this could be the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Wouldn’t you agree, Gerald?”

Gerald looked up from his menu and a wave of coldness washed over him. “Uh, yeah. It could.” He was suddenly afraid, but he ignored his fear in favour of the prize that lay ahead.

Later that night, Gerald found himself standing in the middle of a tiny apartment, listening to Beethoven while Christoph prepared his drink. In the periphery of his vision, he saw vague, half-seen shapes in the dark corners of the room, the candlelight flickering madly. Once again, he was assaulted with a keen feeling of unshakeable dread.

“Can you dance?” Alexandra asked.

“What?” Gerald said, startled out of his trance. He felt hypnotized.

Alexandra laughed huskily and slipped into an unfamiliar accent. “I asked if you can dance.”

“Uh, a little. I can slow dance.”

“Then dance with me.”

She looked at him with smouldering grey eyes. Her seems seemed to change colours, he thought, green one minute, then grey and smoky the next. She must be as horny as I am. He felt himself stiffen as she pressed close against him, her breasts pushing against his chest, her nipples pressing through the thin fabric of his oxford shirt.

“Relax, cowboy. Enjoy yourself, and I’ll do the same: enjoy you.”

Gerald uttered a small, helpless whimper.

“What’s wrong, bug guy? Does that turn you on? Do you like it when I talk like that?”

She looked up at him with those grey, sultry eyes, a small half-smile on her lips. He felt himself stiffen even more.

“You might say that,” he responded weakly.

She reached down and stroked him through his trousers, and he gasped loudly.

“I guess it does. Oh my, you are a big guy, aren’t you?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Gerald grabbed Alexandra by the shoulders and kissed her fiercely, grabbing a handful of her thick, blonde-red hair. It was just as he’d imagined it would be.

When he looked up, he saw Christoph standing in the kitchen doorway, a smile playing on his lips. To Gerald’s utter amazement, he felt himself grow even more excited, knowing that he was being watched by another man. He returned his attention to Alexandra and began undressing her.

“No,” she said. “Let me do it.”

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, she lifted her shirt over her head. Shaking her hair free, she let the fabric fall softly to the floor. She wore no bra, no camisole, beneath.

Gerald reached out to touch her, held her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples almost reverently. He had just enough time to register how cold he skin was before she pushed his hands away.

“No,” she said. “Just watch.”

Maintainer her slow movements, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of her short, tight skirt, easing the material enticingly over her shapely hips. She stopped momentarily at the pubic line, as if easing him—or herself. Then the fabric slipped over her hips, and it too fell to the floor soundlessly.

Gerald stepped forward to hold her, take her, and this time she let him. He marvelled at the luxuriant softness of her skin. He stood mesmerized before her for a moment, caressing her, then gently lowered her to the floor, kneeling before her. She reached up and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them over his hips. His erection stood between them, and she gently caught it in her mouth, teasing him with her teeth and her tongue.

When Gerald’s breathing quickened and he was certain he would shoot himself into her mouth, she let go of him and lay back again. Her hands went to her own breasts, caressing them, tweaking her nipples. Slowly, she worked her way down her abdomen. Her hand stole shamelessly between her thighs, and she moaned softly, taking delight in her own heat and wetness. She spread her feet and opened her knees to dip her fingers inside herself. Her breath caught, and she brought her fingers to her mouth, tasting herself, enjoying the musky cloying taste and scent of her own sex.

Yanking his pants past his knees and ankles and off his legs, Gerald thrust himself on top of her, forcing himself between her legs. But before he could thrust himself inside of her, Alexandra grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him savagely. Her grip was strong and vicelike. Feared stirred within him once again, but passion soon overrode it.

He kissed her back, feverishly. The he felt her mouth break away from his own and work its hot, moist way to his neck. She nibbled, and she bit. He flinched a little, surprised by the sudden pain.

“Relax,” she said. But he didn’t hear it in his ear. He heard it in his head. The fear seized him full force now, and he shivered, her cold, cold body pressed against his. It’s like fucking a dead person, he thought, and he felt his erection fading.

Pushing aside his fear, his revulsion turning again to excitement and remembering the determination he’d had to have her, he thrust himself inside of her, suddenly, savagely, and she screamed in anger. Her screams fuelled his determination still further, causing as much pain to her as possible. But before he could think further, Christoph’s hands fell heavily on his shoulders, yanking him off Alexandra, throwing him to the floor.

“It’s all right, my love. It’s time.”

Then, looking toward Gerald, she said, “Come, Gerald. The time is come. Come to me, on your knees.”

Not knowing what he was in for, ignoring his last seizures of fear, his compulsion to run cast aside, Gerald crawled to Alexandra’s feet and kneeled. Looking down, he saw his erection saluting her preternatural beauty, their beauty, their coldness, their unexplainable, irresistible allure, as Christoph stood next to Alexandra. They gazed down upon him and smiled, their faced not lit up with warmth and affection, but darkened with hunger, their grins predatory.

“Yes, Gerald. Your time has come.”

She knelt before him, her breasts heaving voluptuously, her breath hot on his neck. He felt her teeth sink into his flesh and he came exultantly as his life force drained out of him.

** Five **

When she finished draining him, or sucking him dry as she liked to call it, Alexandra rose to face her husband. She looked up at him triumphantly, her skin glowing with a rosy hue. She wanted him. Now. Alexandra licked her lips and stepped toward Christoph, her eyes that smoky grey that bespoke many hidden, dangerous, sensual secrets.

Christoph swept her in his arms and kissed her with sudden fury. He lowered her to the floor and stripped his clothes off, carelessly dropping them to the floor. He lowered himself on top of her and thrust his throbbing member into her hot, wet depths, sharing the life and heat he helped her to steal, their nightly feeding ritual. She cried out in ecstasy as he ploughed into her, drove his sharp teeth into her skin, and drank from her. It was how they had managed to survive the centuries.

Unnoticed beside them, Gerald’s remains, now turned to dust, was swept up in a breeze from the open window and shuttled to a nearby corner. The candles flickered fervently, casting dark shadows on the walls and corners of vague, half-seen, spirit-like shapes.