I Know…It’s Not Right…I Know
“Whisky, single malt, straight up, double shot,” Alena replied as she slipped her wrap from her shoulders without looking knowing that Ares would take it from her. “Why don’t you regale us, Mr. Grey?” As she took the glass with its amber content from his hand she waved the other toward the piano. Without being asked or told, she glided over to the white sofa with its gray and red pillows to lounge upon it as though she owned the place.
Doing his best to hold back the blush flooding color into his cheeks while at the same time hold back the urge to tell the politely rude woman to go to hell. There was so much money on the line that it was almost easy to keep his tongue—and, in her gray eyes, his place–. “Ari, what’ll you have?”
“I don’t suppose there’s any Ouzo in there?” Ares asked standing back taking in his wife setting the scene and beginning to guide the self-assured Christian Grey in the directions she wanted him to go. It was very exciting and if the night didn’t end up with him, Alena, and Ana in a sweaty heap then it was bound to party on well past dawn back at the Four Season without the little girl.
Christian thought he found a saving grace, “Actually, I do, straight from Athens, I’m sure you’ll like it.” He reached to mini-fridge below the decanters and crystal glasses into the freezer to pull out a frosty bottle of Tolis Nikos. He turned the bottle to the imposing man standing next to him and watched Ari’s eyes widen along with the expression on his youthful but somehow wise face. Grey poured two glasses, “Gia ti̱ zo̱í̱,” he held his glass up a little higher.
“To life, Mr. Grey, to life, may she never deal out punches of which we are undeserving,” Ares drank down the cold licorice liquor in one gulp and held the glass out for a refill. “Please, that song you were going to play for us, please.” Like his wife, Ares gestured toward the baby grand.
Taking a sip off the glass of strong alcohol, Grey wandered over to the piano, took off his dinner jacket and neatly laid it over the arm of the couch. Standing at the piano, he stretched his fingers by lacing them together and pushing his arms forward as he pulled his strong shoulders back craning his neck to ease any tension in those muscles. Then he sat at the bench, put his long strong fingers to the black and white keys and began to play.
Ares stood by the bar watching Alena on the couch knowing exactly what she was thinking as Grey played a flawless rendition of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. It was perfect, technically there wasn’t a single thing wrong with it other than the piano itself sounded a little flat as though it were slightly muffled. There was no passion in his playing. No ad-libbing at all, of course not, if one played off-the-cuff then one risked making a mistake or showing a card they meant to hold close to their vest. They lost control and Christian Grey was not one for losing control but being in command of it. Note for note, fingers flying over the keys, he nailed the symphony other than it he failed Alena’s test.
When he was done, Alena clapped for him, “Very nice, Mr. Grey,” she turned to Ana and waved a hand in front of her body to fan it, “is it hot in here or is it just me?” Downing the last of the glass, she stood up, “Never mind, dear, it’s probably just me, my age, you know.” She tittered as she slid down the zipper of the lace covering on her dress. Opening it to the fullest showing it for the outer jacket it was, she let it fall off her alabaster shoulders until it was gathered in one hand and her slender body still before Christian Grey in nothing but the satin underskirt of her gown. “That’s better.” Swaying her way across the open room to the bar where Ares stood she slipped an arm around his waist as she poured another glass of single malt. “Another song, Mr. Grey? Perhaps something we can dance to, Ari and I love to dance. Do you know ‘Let’s Get It On’? That’s our song.” She did a little shimmy next to her husband pushing up close against him as she rocked into his flank.
Grey’s mouth began to water watching her grind on the big man, “I’m classically trained,” he mumbled.
“Really? How interesting,” she cooed, “Jazz then? ‘Put Some Sugar in My Bowl’? Do you know that one?”
When Grey took the last gulp of his Ouzo, Ares turned his head toward the bar, away from the man to whisper, “You’re so bad.”
Keeping her gray eyes fixed on the man at the piano, Alena reached up to grab Ares’ tie and pull him down to her with a good yank, “Yes, well, I’ll just have to punish you for my bad behavior later.”
Ares’ went weak and he almost fell to the floor as his strong legs bobbled out from under him. It was unlike her to be so bold anywhere but their bedroom, or the Throne Room, or the Parlor, or the island. He liked this little game she was playing and thought he’d kick it up a notch, “Yes, mistress.” To his delight, Alena let out a little shudder as she gave him a sly but genuine grin.
Christian sat silently observing believing he was getting a good drunken glimpse of the inner workings of their marriage and thinking that Aristotle Papathanassiou, the richest and probably largest, man in the world was pussy whipped by the merest wisp of a wife. It made him want to teach her that harsh painful lesson all the more. The thought of her strung up in chains, her arms stretched over her silver head, and her feet spread wide held just inches off the floor ran behind his steely eyes unabated and unveiled.
“Well, why you’re deciding what to play next, Mr. Grey, my dear,” she turned to Ana sitting there watching the scene playout her young face white, “where’s the ladies room? I need to freshen up a bit.”
Ana didn’t wait for Christian’s silent permission, “Down the hall, around the corner, to the left.”
“Thank you,” she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss Ares’ bearded cheek as she reached down to grab his firm ass with meaning. “I’ll be back.” In her own inimitable way, Alena nearly floated out of the room ostensibly to find the bathroom.
Ignoring Ana, Ares looked at Christian Grey, “She’s quite something, isn’t she?” He poured another glass of the expensive Ouzo but this time it was four fingers deep and rose nearly to the rim of the crystal. He took a long drink, “You have no idea how lucky I am, Christian.”
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” Grey replied noticing his own glass was empty. He crossed the room to the bar to stand next to his biggest investor, “But you won’t let her determine your financial future, will you? Good pussy’s one thing but money, tons of it, that’s quite another, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” Ares turned his stare to the nearly horrified young woman, “what’s good pussy worth to you, Mr. Grey?”
I told you! I’m having more fun with this than anybody has a right to.
I ADORE you
I did send the link out to my mailing list only most of them don’t seem to know they got it. I hate copy/paste sometimes! grrr
Anyway, if the above intrigues you and you want to know how this started, where its going, and how it ends…get in touch with me.
If you’re pissed off over this…