Alpha Male

This story was prompted by a kind reader who was extremely complimentary about my work, for which I am of course, always extremely grateful, but closed by asking if I had ever thought of writing something dealing with more forceful, less consensual, encounters. Or, as they put it - 'Rape, Pillage and Burn'. It is not an area of sexual activity that I have dealt with before, but here is my offering in that genre. As you see, I have used that reader's words as the story's sub-title.

ALPHA MALE

(Rape, Pillage and Burn)

The woman stood at the cashier's desk, one hand poised motionless while in the act of reaching to unclasp her handbag, but with her eyes fixed on the action on the other side of the beauty salon's front window.

Working out there was yet another of the seemingly interminable road-crews, either digging or refilling yet another of their apparently pointless excavations. And, like every other road-crew, their numbers made up of a group of either beefily over-fat, or scrawnily under-nourished, unpleasantly unshaven and quite probably unwashed men. Save for the one of them that she found she just couldn't stop herself from staring at!

The lingering heat of the late afternoon had forced him, like the others, to wear no more than shorts and a gaudily fluorescent safety-vest - but unlike them, the physique it flapped around, was truly impressive! Lean, yet powerfully muscled, tanned, and save for the patch at the centre of his chest, virtually hairless.

From where she was standing she could see no more than that, yet in her mind's eye she could; knew he would have long, powerfully well-shaped legs, tautly rounded buttocks - and, beneath his shorts, well, exactly what?

'Will the same time next week be convenient Mrs. Palmer?' the cashier enquired.

'Pardon?' the woman replied.

'I asked if the same time next week would be convenient, for your appointment.'

'Yes, yes of course.' she replied irritably; finding that even as she fumbled in her bag for a credit card she was, for some inexplicable reason, still quite unable to take her eyes off the man.

Marianne Palmer was a thirty-something woman to whom appearance was everything; a woman who had to feel certain she always carried an aura of magnetic attractiveness about her. A woman who spent a good deal of time, effort and, most of all, money, in guaranteeing that both her body and outward presentation of it were always equally eye-catching.

A woman who had carefully improved on the beauty an overly kind nature had allotted her, by submitting herself to a series of expensively subtle nips, tucks and even very slight augmentations. A woman who ensured that her body was regularly, and expensively, pampered and cosseted by the most renowned of experts. A woman who travelled at least twice a year; to London, Milan and Paris, just to re-stock her already unnecessarily vast wardrobe.

What did not show, and what Marianne Palmer herself did not fully understand, was that beneath that thick veneer of beauty and wealthy success, cowered an all too often lonely, and frequently restlessly dissatisfied woman.

Her husband, Halden III

rd

, had built on the wealth both his father and grandfather had left him, but at the cost of any long-lasting emotional relationship with either his wife - who filled her days with rounds of social or charitable engagements - or their two, now young teen-age children, who had, over the years, spent more of their lives with nannies and minders than they had with either parent.

Having settled her account she stepped through the door, and stood in the sun-glaring shade of the wide, over-hanging portico - her eyes still fixed on the man.

In that deep mid-city canyon the sound of the jack-hammer was deafening everyone within fifty yards, everyone that is but Marianne Palmer; to her it was barely registerable, all she was really conscious of was the man, the man whose sheer brute strength had command of it.

She watched the tight concentration on his craggily rugged face as he drilled through the only grudgingly yielding concrete. Watched the way his powerfully large hands gripped and controlled the machine. Watched the tensely flexing muscles, rippling from the force of its vibrations. Watched the pooling rivulets of sweat gathering in their knotting crevices. Watched them spilling and then quickly trickling their way down over the rest of his body.

And for some equally unfathomable reason she suddenly recalled the tales her closest friends had often told her; of their various exploits with discretely compliant, yet also conveniently over-sexed men - Susie's masseur, Katy's less socially acceptable, grocery delivery-boy.

Then, in what was no more than a surreally fantastical moment she found she was imagining herself in some weird, almost Hieronymus Bosch-like setting - imagined the man was in fact the machine, and she, her body, the mere subject of his drilling. And, in spite of the utter ridiculousness of that image she nonetheless felt her core reacting, responding; felt the increased beat of her blood flow, felt the all too rarely experienced quickening and moistening.

And, as though the pressure itself would reverse that process she pressed her hands against the sides of her thighs and pushed them more firmly together - but found that instead of lessening it, the pressure merely served to magnify the unwanted effect.

But then she suddenly realised, the sound of the jack-hammer had stopped - and, looking up, saw that she was being observed by a pair of ice-blue eyes. But, she somehow knew, they were not merely casually observing her, they were both stripping and evaluating. Her costly Italian silk dress had gone quickly, and even the filmy underthings from Paris hadn't deterred him too much longer, then he was judging what more fleshly enticements and rewards she had on offer.

She felt her face flushing in much the same way that her pussy already had; but, jerking both her head and her thoughts away from that hypnotic stare she stepped down on to the sidewalk and, with totally unfelt confidence, walked off towards the nearby car-park building.

'Log me out on a break Charlie!' the man said to the foreman, his head turning to watch the trimly taut jiggling pair of buttocks, then adding. 'Put it down as a call of nature! I doubt I'll be too long.'

Discarding the work-vest and slipping on his T-shirt took but a few seconds, but it delayed him for just long enough to see that by then she had entered the car-park and, not wanting to lose her in that rabbit warren, he jogged quickly after her. Although there must have been a lift waiting when she had got there, he saw the indicator light was still in motion, watched it drop two floors, then stop - a few well balanced bounds took him down the fire-stairs, then the sound of her click-clacking heels directed him.

His rubber soled boots made no such noise so by the time she had her keys out and was about to open the vehicle's door, he was there. 'Yours?' he asked, his eyes dropping to give the dark silver-grey car an admiring once-over.

Although his approach had been soundless and his voice momentarily startled her, she somehow found his actual appearance there unsurprising - unsurprising, yet still more disturbingly arousing than even the first sight of him had been. Then it had been just the effect of the image she had felt herself responding to; his build, his obvious strength, the sheer and all-too potent 'maleness' of him. Now she not only had that image, but the reality of it was there, virtually at her finger-tips - and adding to that already far too powerful effect was the scent of him; a co-mingling aroma of his sweat-sheened muscularity, plus the even more compelling testosterone fuelled muskiness of him.

'Mmm - yes it is.' she finally answered.

'I could have guessed it, a woman like you would have to have something like an Alfa - and I bet you chose the sedan because you didn't like the idea of getting your hair mussed.'

'Something like that.' she admitted.

'But it's still a beautiful piece of work - like its owner.' he said, his eyes again doing what she had felt them doing when he had first caught sight of her - stripping her. Then, as he moved even closer, he added, 'And I bet that once started you both go like a rocket!'

She wasn't even aware that his hands moved, yet the very next moment she felt them - felt one cupping one of her breasts and firmly squeezing it, the other doing the same with her arse, but gripping it even more tightly and tugging her forward, forward to press her hard up against himself. Then all she was really aware of was his mouth - his lips, mouth and tongue - and his kiss; exciting, bruising, hungry, oh so very, very hungry!

But even through the voracious hunger of his kisses she was very much aware of the other part of him; the long, and apparently already rock-hard length of him.

How long had it been - if in fact it ever actually had been - since she'd felt a man respond so immediately, and so fiercely to her? Certainly Halden, even at the early, still passionate stage of their coupling, had never responded like this man was. Perhaps earlier, with one or other of her too few boy-friends - but even the momentary thoughts of them brought no comparisons to mind. And wasn't this kind of response exactly what she had always, even if only secretly, actually yearned for - to know that she had so aroused a man he lost complete and utter control of himself?

'Move round here.' he growled huskily as he frog-walked her around to the back of the car. 'I can tell you want this just as much as I do!' he added as his hands began tugging her skirt upwards.

The silk and silk-lined material slid easily over her baby-smooth thighs and as he unzipped and yanked his shorts down he took the time to see exactly what it was that he had uncovered. The pale damson coloured panties were wispily flimsy, their lace-work allowing much of her skin to show through, skin, plus the neatly trimmed, shadowy line of the narrow strip of pubic hair.

'Real nice!' he muttered. 'But they'll have to go.' he added as he pushed them down off her hips and then crouched to slide them lower and lift her feet out of them.

As he stood upright again, Marianne looked down, saw the rigidly swollen length and size of him - his cock was built exactly as the rest of him was; big and, by the look of it, powerfully muscular.

But even as she was savouring the thought and anticipation of what it would feel like to have a cock like that pushing up into her, she felt herself being bent backwards, down over the trunk of the car. 'Best we can do in the circumstances lady!' he said as she felt his forward moving legs pushing hers apart. Then, with no more warning, the blunt head of his cock was forcing itself between her pussy-lips - and, before she had even time to take a breath, she felt the full thickness of it pushing inside and stretching her wide open.

Her squeal - a mixture of surprise, shock, and delight - echoed around them. 'Keep it down lady! It's good to know you're enjoying yourself, but we don't want the security guys interrupting us.' He said through gritted teeth as he pushed even deeper into the slick tightness of her pussy, then added. 'Shit that's tight! That's one sweet pussy you've got there baby.'

Right then she didn't really care what he thought of her pussy, just so long as he did what she desperately wanted him to do. 'Fuck me! Just fuck me, hard!' she croaked.

'Don't you worry your pretty head about that, I intend to.' he answered as he began powering back and forth.

From the first moment he'd seen her standing outside the salon he'd known he had to have her - if only because it was so blindingly obvious that she was way out of his class. Every single thing about her shrieked 'money' - oodles of it - apart from the prices he guessed a place like that would charge, and even though he had no idea of the true value of her outfit, he knew the combination would be more than he'd make in a month - maybe even far longer. But, apart from the fact that he always loved a challenge, he'd somehow sensed something about her; perhaps it was from the way he felt her staring at him, perhaps it was just some ages-old much more animal instinct. An instinct that alerted the hunter to its prey.

And, much as a hunter would devour its kill to avoid the risk of being deprived of it - he took her quickly; driving both deep and hard, totally ignoring the possibility of bruising her as he slammed her down against the car each time he drove his cock into her. But although fast, it wasn't so hasty that he didn't have the time to appreciate what he'd got himself. She was tight, fantastically tight! Not at all like so many of the women he usually found himself fucking, women who'd been fucked so many times, and by so many different men, that their pussies had become loose and sloppy - no, this one was special!

Marianne herself was in some sort of euphorically blissful daze; the length of him was reaching places she'd forgotten existed, and the feelings she was at the same time getting from being stretched so wide open made what he was doing like nothing she'd experienced before. 'This, this is what fucking should always be like!' she thought to herself as she began using her hips to supplement what his thrusting was doing.

The combination worked quickly, perhaps just a touch too quickly, she momentarily thought as she felt her body responding. But it was too good to miss, so she allowed herself to go with the fast-building rush, and, in spite of his warning, was unable to stop from screeching as she jerked herself even more forcefully up at him.

The additional tightness of her rhythmic contraction did it for him. One moment he was still enjoying the thrill of having a woman like her beneath him, feeling the steadily rising excitement of having his cock thrusting back and forth in the tight, wet velvet of her. The next, as the clutching grip around him became even more constricted, he felt the sudden surge, felt his balls being drawn right up inside himself. The very next, he was erupting; over, and over, and over again, literally blasting load after load of jism deep into the very heart of her.

They remained jammed tightly together for a minute or two - he savouring the pleasure of having his cock bathed in the sticky warm wetness of her cunt - she revelling in the mere possession of such a monstrous piece of flesh - each of them still gasping for breath, each still shuddering from the sheer force of what had been unleashed between them.

But, recovering the more quickly, he pushed himself off her, hearing the loud popping squelch that pulling his cock out produced, and, having taken a quick look at the oozing mess that immediately began to trickle out of her, and ignoring the slimy stuff still dripping from his cock, tugged his shorts up and refastened them.

'There are tissues in the car - would you get them for me.' she said shakily as she handed him the bag she still had clutched in one hand.

'Sure.' he replied, and as he fished out keys and opened the door, he saw a way to extend what he had at first thought would be no more than a quick, pressure relieving fuck.

'I think we both want more than that.' he said as he watched her trying to mop up the residue of their frantic fucking. 'I know a place where we can take a bit more time about it, give ourselves a chance to get to know each other better, if you know what I mean!' he added with a hawkishly leering grin.

In spite of her still somewhat sex-befuddled state, Marianne thought quickly, the idea was undoubtedly appealing. It had been short, and far, far too quick. And, unlike Halden, a man like this would certainly have the stamina to do it more than just the once. 'OK, you drive.' she replied, before bending to retrieve the hastily discarded panties.

'You won't need those.' he said meaningfully, then slid himself down into the driver's seat.

He took off with a squeal of the tyres then without any attempt at making conversation settled back to thread the car through the inevitable traffic.

Marianne imagined the flat he was taking her to would undoubtedly be small and shabby, and probably dirty too. But a man like him would surely have the one thing she fancied right then, a bed, a large one - one big enough to give them the space to properly explore each other. Just the thought of that was more than exciting enough to restart the quivering moistness she had felt the first time she'd spotted him. And, as the minutes ticked by, she began to think of how, on other days, in the future, she might book them into some discretely remote motel - maybe once or twice a week. That was something she'd be able to look forward to - and would also give her stories she could match with those sometimes insufferably smug Susie and Katy!

Whilst Marianne's thoughts were concentrating purely on a bed; a large, soft, yet still firm bed, a bed on which she felt sure this man would enthusiastically display his potency - his were flying all over the place. For one thing there was the traffic, though since joining the freeway that had certainly been less taxing. Then there were her legs, a good deal of which, in the semi-slumped position she was in, were on display. And the sight of her legs, especially her still firmly rounded thighs, were a constant reminder of what lay up there between them. He couldn't remember when he last fucked a pussy as tight as hers had been, and he could hardly wait to try it again, if only to confirm that it really was that tight.

But in spite of the pressure he felt when he had those thoughts, there was still yet another - and that was the car itself. It really was a dream to drive, and in many ways was just like the woman herself. It wasn't just beautiful to look at; it handled superbly, both moving and responding sweetly to each and any of his directions, and just the lightest pressure brought a surge of previously untapped power.

He knew guys who specialised in handling vehicles like this - a few hours frantic work and an unsuspecting buyer wouldn't know it from one straight out of the showroom window. Or maybe in a couple of days it would be clear across the other side of the country. There was good money to be made from top-class imports like this one. But, he decided, he would think a bit more about that, later, once his more urgent needs had been fully taken care of.

It was only when the car suddenly veered off the freeway, then quickly turned again, that time on to what seemed like no more than a sharply twisting and climbing track, that Marianne's attention returned to where he was actually taking them. 'Where are we going?' she asked with a note of uneasy anxiety.

'Just up here, once it's dark it gets crowded with kids - sometimes I come up to watch them at it, you'd be amazed just how young some of the girls can be - but it'll be deserted at this time of day. Not that we'll be able to do it in this, that's one problem with these sporty cars, no leg room, but if the way you reacted back there is anything to go by I don't think you'll give a damn as to exactly where we're doing it!'

At that moment the car crested the rise and Marianne saw a wide area of scrubby-looking grass, surrounded on three sides by trees, and the fourth looking back out across the city they'd left no more than twenty minutes before. Having sex with this hunk of a man, in his bed, was one thing, but being fucked animal-like in a place like this, well that was quite another.

'Oh no!' she said vehemently as the car slid to a sudden, dust-raising halt.

But either he didn't hear, or didn't want to hear her protest, and before she had the time to think any further he was out, around her side of the car and yanking the door open. 'Come on sweetheart, just looking down at your legs was enough to get me started again!' he said as he reached in for her hand and forcefully tugged her. 'And this time while I'm fucking you I want to be able to see what the rest of you really looks like.'