Over The Balcony by Lizbeth Dusseau
Bdsm story from Girl In The Mirror, a newly released novel
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Over The Balcony. by Lizbeth Dusseau
© Copyright 2002, all rights reserved
The following day seemed to go much like the previous one, including a
girlish session of giggling revelations between Aimee and her new friend
over a glass of burgundy wine. When they didn't make love that evening,
Aimee was almost disappointed, but Jonas came home in a bad mood and
Angelica quietly motioned her to go. The third day after work, Aimee stayed
in her room, waiting for Angelica to come fetch her as she had before. When
she didn't, and on hearing some commotion in the hallway, she poked her head
out her door to see what was happening on the other side.
Jonas was noisily coming up the stairs, roaring angrily, "Angelica!"
He roared again when he reached the top. "Angelica! Here! Now!"
The girl came bounding out the door as she jerked it open.
"You little slut!" the man seethed with rage.
"What did I do?" she stepped back, while trying to deal with the shock of
her angry lover's impending attack.
"You know very well . . ." he went for her.
Instead of pushing her into their room where they might deal with the
affair in private, he pulled onto the balcony and shoved her over the
railing face forward. He tore at her skirts, pulling them up and over her
bottom, until he found the flesh he was looking for. Then with a
surprisingly adroit move, he unbuckled his belt at his waist and pulled it
free.
"What are you doing?" the astounded Angelica fought to understand his
quarrel.
In Aimee's mind, however, her normally assertive friend was surprisingly
placid, given the fact that Jonas was about to open up on her naked
behind-well, almost naked behind. One last required move to bare her ass was
easily accomplished when he swiftly yanked her panties down. There she was,
flung forward over the banister rail, her skirt up, her panties down, her
pink ass gleaming in the yellowish glow of the lantern light.
By then, a crowd had formed about the garish show. From nearly every room,
there were faces peering out of doors with interest, as if they'd been
invited to watch. Perhaps they had been, since Jonas chose to proceed with
this show in the open. A few stood on the stairs looking up at the awkward
angle, and Aimee stood as close as anyone, as mesmerized as the others were
by the amazing display. There, unashamedly before at least a dozen
boardinghouse residents, Jonas gave his girlfriend a sound beating. He
flailed her ass with the belt repeatedly, until no one close enough to see
her flesh would fail to notice the bounteous orbs made hot and red. While
the man put all his anger into the effort, Angelica grunted and screamed,
and, for time, she even wriggled about as she were trying to get away. But
as soon as she was about to get free, Jonas stopped long enough to jerk her
back. After twice restraining her attempts to flee, he pinned her with his
free arm. He held her torso firmly against the rail with such a firm hand
that she gave up any further attempt to wrest herself from his grasp. She
leaned over the rail, holding on tight, as much aware of the dangerous fall
awaiting her on the other side of the rail, as she was the thick leather
pelting her ass. It seemed to Aimee that Angelica's efforts at liberation
were only half-hearted, as if she accepted the inevitable, and it wasn't
worth the battle to fight the stronger Jonas. She was going to lose this one
regardless.
In time, the beating took on a very different quality. Jonas anger abated,
and to Aimee's surprise, Angelica looked clearly aroused. As the blows came
down in a methodical beat, with more hot leather over her hot skin, the girl
began to move her hips against the railing. There was no doubt that her
pussy was rubbing the wood with each swaying motion. The angle was perfect.
As close as Aimee was to the scene, she could even see between Angelica's
legs, the wet folds of her girlfriend's pubic lips glistening with the
evidence of female dew. She was getting off!
The moans of pain had turned into moans of pleasure, warm and sumptuous
refrains prior to climax. At one point, Aimee looked down the balcony to her
left and saw the fine looking Terrance massaging the crotch of his pants. He
looked back at her intently-no smile, just the lusty expression of arousal
as his eyes invited Aimee's response. She blushed, then turned back to the
scene, which seemed safer than the hot young fellow and his torrid gaze.
She figured that one wrong, however. Angelica was suddenly showing signs of
coming. She tensed, her body going rigid, while at the same time Jonas
stopped with his belt. He moved to her backside, reaching into her crotch
from behind. Aimee couldn't see what he was doing, but it wasn't hard to
guess that the whipped girl was coming hard and nastily against his invading
hand. "Oh, gawd, jeeeeeeeez!" As the banister shook, Aimee held her breath.
For a moment, she was afraid that the pair would loosen the screws and
topple forward, railing and all to the first floor. Time seemed to slow for
a moment, and everything blurred-the attentive audience, the girl, the man,
and Aimee-all the elements suspended in a moment that seemed to have no end.
The spell was broken when Jonas pulled himself off his girlfriend. Like
two dragon's eyes boring hot holes in her, Jonas's focus suddenly shifted to
Aimee. Had his rage returned? No. This was something different, calmer, but
just as frightening. If anything, instead of hot, it was very cold and
calculating. "Come here, girl," he motioned to Aimee.
Aimee stood stock still, frozen in place with her feet unable to budge from
the spot.
"Come on," he said more urgently, as he lifted Angelica off the railing and
dragged her into their room. He stood at the door, holding out his hand for
Aimee and beckoning her with his fingers-the same fingers that had just been
inside the randy woman's wet snatch, which were still gleaming with her
juices.
Too scared and too curious not to obey what sounded like an order, Aimee
finally moved toward the man. She briefly stared about at the audience, who
in turn snickered, suggesting that they knew something she did not.
"Come on," Jonas urged her again when she took that time to pause.
Aimee moved swiftly, now, following the man inside the room. The door
closed behind her, while Jonas moved out from behind his guest and addressed
the punished Angelica with a terse, "Get on the floor, bitch!"
Angelica was instantly on her knees.
"Take off your clothes!"
With an efficiency born of practice, the redhead tore at her clothes, until
she was completely naked. Her demeanor had undergone such a transformation
that Aimee hardly recognized the brash, self-assured woman she knew at work
and in her private bedroom. Angelica now exuded such humility and surrender
that Aimee would speculate that this must be her opposing twin, or that
someone else's spirit had taken over Angelica's body. Knowing both of these
to be untrue, Aimee stood motionless with her back to the door and watched
as the amazing scene began to unfold.
While Angelica waited for her next instruction, Jonas moved to the bed and
sat down. "C'mere, slut," he ordered as he pulled his shirt from his torso.
When his muscled chest was in full view, Aimee's body reacted with a wicked
shudder of desire. It had been some time, since she'd seen so fine an
example of naked male flesh, and her body felt a familiar heat rising in her
groin again. The sensations had hardly left her since she had been with
Angelica two nights before. They'd only become more potent when on the
previous night, their session of mischievous talk ended so abruptly.
Angelica crawled to the man on her hands and knees, swaying her plump,
pink, punished ass in a taunting display. This teased Aimee like any sexy
come-on would. But she was petrified and she wouldn't move. Why had Jonas
insisted on her being there, and why had she agreed? She worried that he'd
drag her into some horrible scene. And strangely, she worried that he wouldn
't!
Once reaching her lover's feet, Angelica humbly bowed her head and raised
her ass high, as if she was showing off. But reaching for her, Jonas pulled
the redhead up by her hair until she was up on her knees and between his
thighs, looking up at the man's imperious expression. "You understand the
message, or do I have spell it out more clearly?" he asked her tersely.
"I understand, my love."
"Good. Now you can thank me for not stringing you up and letting the wolves
out there rape you."
"Yes, love," she quietly returned, as her hands moved to the buttons on his
pants and quickly worked them free.
From Aimee's perspective, she couldn't exactly see the penis that Angelica
extracted from inside Jonas' pants. But by the way her friend's mouth opened
and covered the thing, she suspected that it was erect and quite sizable.
While Jonas's hand intertwined in the mass of curls at the back of Angelica'
s hair and seemed to gently push her forward, the girl worked his cock,
lapping and slurping and sucking with as rapacious an effort as she'd used
for Aimee's pleasure. For a moment or two, she laved her tongue along the
shaft and Aimee got a glimpse of that fine member. The head was small and
cleanly circumcised, sitting atop a thick rod of pulsing, purple muscle. Its
dagger-like quality scared Aimee-as it might any virgin. It appeared so
potent, so animal, so raw and virile. She could never imagine herself doing
such intimate things to any man's proud genitals.
In time, the lovers seemed to mend their rift. Jonas became less harsh and
more aroused, and Angelica's mood became more forceful, like the woman Aimee
knew. In time, they moved to the top of the bed, where the redhead could
have better access to the Jonas' cock. Aimee expected that they'd fuck, but
that wasn't what he wanted. Angelica worked him with her mouth, worked him
into a frenzy, and finally forced the thing to explode all over her face.
She licked at the shooting jism and even caught some in her mouth, while
more of the stringy mess landed on her cheek and chin and dribbled down to
her chest. Afterwards, she sat back on her heels and lovingly smeared the
stuff into her skin like cold cream. There was a coy smile on her face as
she waited for her boyfriend to recuperate. He did so slowly, but not
without those green eyes glued to him as if she adored him. When he finally
roused himself, he looked back at her.
"You gonna do it again . . . "
"Shush, darling, I've paid for my crime, haven't I?"
"Maybe." He sounded as if he wasn't so sure.
Uncomfortable with the scene, Aimee turned to leave.
"Where the hell are you going?" Jonas boomed.
She froze, and then looked over her shoulder. "I thought you might want to
be alone."
"If I wanted to be alone, I'da kicked you out, wouldn't I, now?"
"Yes, I suppose you would."
"Then you behave yourself and get us some wine."
"I can do that," she said, scurrying quickly to the table and pouring two
glasses of wine from the open bottle. She was glad to be useful and glad for
the brief pause in the sexual tension. "But I really must be going," she
added.
"Aw, pour one for yourself," Jonas called to her.
"Please," she half pleaded as she served the pair their glasses. They were
now cuddled and cozy on the bed, all forgiven, looking as if they'd just
revived themselves from a long an languid lovemaking.
"She's still a little shy," Angelica piped up.
"You think so?"
"Oh, darling, you can see it in her sweet face. I imagine our little scene
has so shocked her that she needs some breathing room. Right?"
"Exactly right," Aimee quickly agreed.
It wasn't like Angelica to let her back down from anything, but she was
being very kind. Maybe she wanted Jonas for herself.
"I'll just leave you two," Aimee offered with a smile.
"Suit yourself, girl," the man called out. "But I'm not done with you."
This last remark made her shudder to the bone. The feeling scared her, as
did the unexpected emotion Jonas poured out on her. Unable to handle her
confusing feelings, she hastily left the room. For some reason, it didn't
seem like the right thing to do, but her mind had drawn a blank; there was
nothing to say. She had to put some distance between herself and her
shocking neighbors. She had to think. Yes, she had to think-even if thinking
had proved so difficult in the last few days.
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