I've never watched the subsequent sequels but the original 1980's Dynasty was one of the biggest television shows around. The weekly saga of the super wealthy, super sexy, and super shoulder pads. The saying "over the top" fits it perfectly. From the saintly Krystle to the villainous Alexis and the different shades of everyone in between. For those old enough to remember the original series, and being able to picture the characters in their mind, this is hopefully an enjoyable story. Hopefully those below the age of forty will also enjoy it.
This is a homage, a parody, to one of the most popular shows of the 80's and is not a serious work of literature, just as Dynasty was not a serious piece of theatre. There's humour, depending on your own sense of humour, and a little romance, plus quite a lot of selfishness, particularly from the scheming Alexis.
A word about Alexis. She is beautiful. She is bad. She has no scruples. To her, any consequences to others as a result of her actions are unimportant. You have sex with her on her terms, not yours, so look out for the surprise cream pie!
There's no bdsm or nonconsent or anything similar. If that's what you want then I suggest you stop reading now because this is a sex romp bit of fun not to be taken seriously. Go with the flow and enjoy. By the way, I know cellphones, as we know them, didn't exist in the 1980's but I needed it for the plot.
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Saturday, 5th March, 1983.
They hit the mattress hard and Blake used up every last bit of energy he had pleasing her, letting her moans and groans and the prodding of her fingers against his body guide where she wanted him to go. The darkened room was suddenly illuminated by the lightning flashing in the blackness outside. Clouds crashing together, driving the silver forks into the ground as the drums of thunder played.
He increased the intensity of his effort to the point where the bed was in peril of collapsing under them. Seeming to sense this, Krystle locked her legs around his torso. Right on cue, he lifted her off the bed and pushed her against the wall. In his mind Blake tried to drive them both through the wall and out into the storm, to just let the rain engulf them.
Climaxing simultaneously, she screamed and ripped at his steel grey hair. He cried out as if in pain, although he was feeling the exact opposite.
Totally spent, he carried her back to the bed and collapsed on top of her. Still gasping, she gently stroked the back of his head. Though the room was as cool as outside, they were both drenched in sweat from their efforts.
They could each feel the pounding of a heart, joining together as though skin and bone did not exist. Blake felt as if he had run a marathon, every nerve and muscle twitching. Krystle seeing stars, that weren't there, on the shadowy ceiling.
Blake finally rolled off her and put an arm over his eyes, blocking everything out.
"My God," she whispered breathlessly into his ear. She slipped her leg on top of his stomach and lay curled tight to him. "My God," she said again. "That was intense, Blake."
He nodded his head, trying to silently tell her it was the same for him. They slipped into sleep and when they awoke the darkness was complete, both inside the room and outside. The storm was gone, the flashing thunderbolts resting once more. Until the next time they would come out to play.
"We should go," whispered Krystle. "People will be looking for us."
"They may be looking for us, but I doubt it. They will all be too busy enjoying themselves at the party downstairs. Anyway, we're in one of the guest bedrooms. Even if someone does look for us we have so many rooms in this mansion, where would they begin? You get a shower and I'll use the passageway back to my room."
They clung together for one more kiss and then she went into the bathroom. He grabbed his clothes, pulling on his pants and slipping into his shoes, holding everything else with one arm as he twisted the wall fitting with the other. The guy who had built the mansion, back in the 1880's, had a fascination for mystery and intrigue and there were many nooks and crannies, as well as hidden passageways such as this one. As far as Blake knew he was the only one who knew every secret of the old house, although others might know something.
He had just fastened the tie around the neck of his dress shirt when the bedroom door opened.
"There you are, Blake. I was wondering where you'd got to." She peered around the room. "You're alone? I thought you might be showing someone your etchings." The sarcasm dripped from her voice.
"What do you want, Alexis? This isn't your bedroom anymore. Have you lost your way?"
"Is that any way to speak to your wife, Darling?"
She sauntered across the room towards him, drifting across the thick carpet like the demoness she was, arm up her back pulling down the zipper on her dress. She stopped in front of him, holding up the top of the dress with her hands on her breasts. Thrusting one leg provocatively through the slit, running from the floor to hip, in a dress displaying her to perfection. Her body balanced on silver shoes with shiny stiletto heels.
She removed her hands, the dress fell to the floor. The shoes were now the only thing she was wearing, apart from the diamond necklace and the rings on her fingers.
"What the fuck do you want, Alexis?"
"That's exactly what I want, Blake. A fuck. I want to be fucked and I want my darling husband to fuck me. Right now. On our marital bed."
"No chance, Alexis. You don't interest me anymore. You've had your day and this marriage is over."
She stepped forward, pressing herself against him. The smoothness of her skin against the silk of his shirt.
"I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me. Getting divorced would be a mistake," she murmured, seductively. "We're good for each other, Darling. We always have been and you know you want me." The lies of deceit crawled from her mouth without hesitation.
Her arms went around his neck, her hands on the back of his head, pulling him down towards her. Her lips searched for his and he tasted her lipstick as she crushed their lips together and her tongue thrust into him.
"I can't do it, Alexis. I won't do it."
He tried to pull away but she refused to let go. For a petite woman she was surprisingly strong.
"You will fuck me, Blake. You know you will. No point in trying to resist me. I've not met a man yet who can resist me. You know that."
Dropping to her knees, her expert hands had his hardening cock revealed in seconds, and her mouth engulfed him in an instant. She looked up but he couldn't see her. His eyes were closed, his lips clamped together and his jaw clenched, as he slid into the abyss of pleasure waiting for him. She knew she had him. She always had him. Her tongue swept round the tip of his cock, tantalising him with expectancy. She slid it into her mouth, holding him steady, her hot breath sending sparks into his balls. She held him in both hands, stroking just enough to have him aroused and hard, but keeping him away from the brink, enjoying his frustration. As she had done many times before.
She slid him inside her mouth again, gripping him gently with her teeth, and unbuckled his belt. Releasing him, she quickly stood, and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Before he had chance to react, she leapt on him, sinking him all the way into her steaming hot, wet cunt. She fucked him hard, fucked him fast. The excitement of his capture brought her to orgasm quickly, and she felt him fill her. As he always had done. He reached for her hips, wanting to push inside her with his still erect cock, but she slapped his hands aside and climbed off him.
"Thank you, Darling. Adequate as always."
Leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor, she opened the bedroom door, blew him a kiss, and walked back to her own bedroom. Several guests watched her, most with mouths wide open, but she ignored them, enjoying the moment. Without looking back she opened the door, stepped inside, and looked at the bed. A young guy, less than half her age, lay on the bed waiting for her return.
"There you are. Good boy. I told you I wouldn't be long. Now where were we? I remember now. You had your tongue in my cunt."
She knelt on his chest, her knees over his arms, holding him down. Holding herself above him, his eyes firmly fixed on the object of his next task. The task he yearned to return to. She settled on his waiting mouth and his tongue slid inside her. Instantly he pulled away, the revulsion evident on his face, and about to protest.
"Oh no, baby boy," she exclaimed, as she grasped his head, firmly pushing his face into her sex, dribbling Blake's cum into his mouth.
"You told me you wanted to eat my pussy. Now eat. See how good I'm being to you. I've brought you back a special treat."
She allowed him to pull away, his face covered with the slimy substance. He drew in air with ragged breaths, struggling to speak.
"I didn't realise...Mmmm"
His words were silenced as she pulled him into her again, humping her bare cunt against his face.
"I think you've cleaned me out. Good boy. Now fuck me with that tongue. I want an orgasm." He heard a sinister laugh. "After all, it must be at least fifteen minutes since I last came."
He took her clit, finding it easily because of its size, between his lips and gently sucked, stroking it with the tip of his tongue. Releasing her, he began to lick. Slow, rhythmic, strokes from bottom to top. It would have been so much easier to bring her to orgasm if he had been able to use his fingers as well as his tongue but she had him securely pinned down. But he was good. She knew because it wasn't the first time she has used him, and it wouldn't be the last. Finally she got her wish. The feeling washed through her and the fingers caressing her nipples now crushed her breasts, as her cries rang out around the room.
"That's it! That's it! Thank you, my darling boy. I may allow you to do that again. Possibly."
She slid down his chest until she could feel his erection against her, the tip almost up to her waist.
"Do you want to cum inside me, again?"
She suddenly realised, although she'd fucked him before, she couldn't remember his name. What was it? Rick? Nick? It was something like that. Did it really matter? Of course not. He was just one of many over the years. How many had she fucked? No man had ever fucked her because she was always in control. Mick. That sounded familiar. Yes. It might be Mick.
"I didn't come before you left, Alexis. I can feel my balls are still full."
"Now what have I told you about calling me Alexis? I know I don't look it," she said, flattering herself as usual," but I'm old enough to be your mother. I demand your respect. That's why you call me Mommy," she said calmly. Just before she slapped his cheek.
