In The Library Ch. 09

Her control of me was complete - whenever she felt my crisis quicken she would stop, her gripping cunt tight upon my shaft and she would be poised, motionless. And I would gasp in my breath, holding back my coming, but building it up from deeper inside me, but stopping it bursting. There were no words between us, just a simple,primal, slow, meandering pleasure. And when I felt that I could hold back no longer, she lay her torso to my chest, her nipples tight hardness to my own stiff points, and she straightened her long legs along my own, and she lay her weight upon me, her body covering mine, her tight cunt gripping my cock deep within her. And we lay motionless, our erratic breathing falling into time with each other's. And our mouths met, tongues now the centre of our heat, our lips delicate butterflies on each other's face, flickering eyelashes on cheeks, slow hot breath on our necks.

Time slowed, and we lay together, easing ourselves into each other with fullness and a slow fucking, our limbs entwining. And I cradled her in my arms, my strong arms around her delicate back. And she moved onto her side, my shaft still sheathed in her heat, her hands caressing my chest and face. Alexandra's green eyes gazed on my face, steadily, knowing something about me that I did not know about her, that I did not know about myself. And then she brought both her legs up so that she lay cradled in my arms, her legs pulled up to her chest, so that she lay pinioned by my cock. Our final exquisite, slow urgency was upon us both now, my balls full and throbbing, her cunt hungry and grasping. And our coming together was a slow silence, all words and sounds gone, just our rising together to a white light filled place, sensual liberation, a long sigh from her as she orgasmed hard on me, her body rippling with the waves of it; and a long spill from my centre as I came deep within her, my cock pulsing with the long spurting spilling release of me.

We lay, her body small in my arms, my body wrapped around hers. We lay gently together, and I knew that something important had happened, even if I didn't know precisely what it was. "Thank you, dear boy, you were so good for me as you were always so good for me. But no more for me, we are done now, we are done."

Fuck, there it was again, her knowledge of something I didn't know. "Can you explain, can you say what you mean?" I pleaded, but she put her finger to my lips, sshhh, don't ask. Alexandra gave me one last look, of longing, of loss, of forgiveness, I didn't know what the look was made of, but something deeper than I could wrap my head around, that was for sure. And she unpealed herself from me, my cock softening from her wetness, her silver pelt sliding from my eyes, her long limbs lean and long, her delectable body sliding into my memory. And she gave me one long, last, heartfelt kiss before she turned away.

"Sweet boy, you were always mine, always mine, but I didn't know, not then, not like I know now. My own sweet boy." Ah no, not that endearment, surely not, surely not B' s words? God no. My head spun with the meshing of my different times - was it coincidence that Alexandra used the same words as my dear B - but B was so far into Alexandra's future, surely there couldn't be a link. Could there? And what didn't Alexandra know then, whenever the fuck 'then' was?

This was too complicated for me. Shit, by comparison the conundrum of Grace was simple - I knew that she was powerful, I knew that she was dead and haunting me back and forth in time, I knew that somehow she thought she was my sister. But that made no sense. And Alexandra made even less sense. I knew that the birds had powered me back in time, their presence on the power lines alongside that impossibly straight road, so Grace was still involved in this, somehow. But who was Alexandra?

"Dear boy, let's go down, it's nearly time for me to perform, so let's just go downstairs now, our time here is over." And she swathed her glorious body in her green silk dress and made her way down the narrow steps. I stumbled into my clothes, dazed and confused, and followed her down. When I got to the lower room, she ushered me out the door. "I need to change, dear boy, my stage costume, you see."

So I went on down to the room below, and found myself a table. "Drinks on the house, sir, Madame's orders. Please make yourself comfortable. The show starts in ten minutes, it's special tonight, sir, we've all been looking forward to it." So the chauffeur is moonlighting as the drinks waiter? I gave up - I didn't have a fucking clue what was going on now.

But the stage was being cleared, and the band was prepping for a pair of vocalists, two microphones out the front, only the piano player, drummer and upright bass player remaining on stage. "Ladies and gentleman, please welcome the Diva of the new jazz age, Alexandra...." And with a round of applause, she sashayed onto the stage, those hips that thirty minutes before had ridden me, swinging, as she launched into an old torch song. I smiled as I realised that for me it was an old jazz classic, but for this crowd it was the latest thing. Her voice was smokey, her delivery world weary, just perfect for the material.

Alexandra sang another four or five songs, before stopping to announce, "tonight is a special occasion for me. I've just spent some time with a dear boy, an old friend, and one long missed. And now I would like to introduce my daughter, for her first time on stage...please welcome my dearest girl...."

And I sat there, motionless, my brain fevered and spinning, as I desperately tried to process what I had just heard and who I was seeing. Because there on the stage, her curves covered in black and white, her hourglass figure with breasts spilling from her bodice, was the girl I had first seen in the library the day the haunting started. But this girl was alive, her hair bobbed and black, her lips red, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

Grace, before she died.