Previously in "Dirty Tricks"
While attending Alexa Grey's, the retiring mayoress's extravagant birthday party, an unknown photographer captures political opponents and electoral candidates, Heather Anderson and Sean McCarthy, during an adulterous rendezvous. After being sent ominous instructions with photographic evidence of their indiscretion, they meet to discuss their predicament, only to have sex yet again.
Heather and Sean eventually agree to let only Sean’s shady campaign manager, 'Fast-Eddie' handle the blackmailer situation. Eddie hires Jesse Cortez, a professional fixer to investigate.
Later that day, after learning additional incriminating photographs had arrived at her office, Heather rushes there to intercept them before Trish, her campaign manager and Sean McCarthy's estranged sister, gets her hands on them. Unfortunately, Trish opens the mail and sees the lurid images, but decides to pretend otherwise. Instead, she allows Heather to seduce her like she did back in high school, something Trish has never forgotten.
Afterwards, Heather discovers a secret surveillance camera in her campaign office and feeling shocked, informs Eddie, who then informs Jesse Cortez. While removing the camera, Jesse sends a computer virus to the unknown blackmailer, but as he leaves Heather's campaign office, an unknown assassin captures a careless Cortez who is later found dead in his car.
Having guessed that Heather is being blackmailed and assuming it was her brother doing it, Trish unscrupulously decides to teach them both a lesson. She assumes the identity of the blackmailer and instructs both of them to attend a BDSM sex club. Trish and Mayoress Alexa Grey are doms who get their kicks punishing others, Trish taking care of Heather while Alexa gets to vent some steam off on an unsuspecting Sean.
After delivering Sean to the club, Eddie drives to Jesse Cortez's home to offer comfort to the grieving widow. Arriving there, Eddie witnesses the widow Cortez in a passionate embrace with Bob Anderson.
o0o
It was Sunday evening, her first since turning fifty, and Alexa Grey watched her husband sleeping in his hospital bed, and felt her temper flare. Despite paying exorbitant premiums for private health care, the Goddamned hospitals still couldn't, or wouldn't, provide decent coffee or a comfortable chair. She stretched, rearranging her position to relieve aches and pains the uncomfortable furniture was causing, and stared at the dark brown liquid in the plastic beaker. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of drinking it.
The last month had resembled a roller coaster ride with both ups and downs, especially this last week. Her birthday party had been very enjoyable, despite Jerry's absence, but seeing him lying here in the hospital, with their Goddamned uncomfortable furniture was not so great. The photos of Heather Anderson and Sean McCarthy had turned out to be pure dynamite as had the video of Heather seducing her campaign manager Trish. Alexa produced a tight-lipped smile. She'd been lucky to get her hands on the film. The virus, cleverly planted by that Cortez fellow had been a tricky piece of work. Undiscovered, it could have done some real damage.
'Was discovered the right word?' she mused.
Before dying, Jesse Cortez had confessed to what he had done in an unsuccessful effort to save his life. Although unsavoury, torture was still an effective manner of gathering intelligence, and by following his instructions, the virus had been bypassed. That was a master-stroke. She now had the digital data she wanted, and she knew who had hired him. "Pity I didn’t know last night, otherwise, I might have paid 'Fast-Eddie' a visit instead of going to the TiMiDi club," she muttered angrily.
"There are too many people getting involved in things that don’t concern them..."
She ticked off the names on her mental list; Bob and Jerry, once lifelong friends but now arch rivals, Heather, the so-called perfect wife who seemed to be fucking everyone she meets. And then there was Trish, Sean and Fast Eddie. Were they bit players in this game or would they become a real threat?
Feeling too tired to contemplate all the in's and out's she put that thought on a back burner and reflected on Bob Anderson and herself. Hard to believe she'd only celebrated her birthday party a couple of days ago; unbelievable to think Jerry had been in the hospital for almost three weeks.
Ironic how time and circumstances can change one's life and perspectives, she continued fuming and vowed, not for the first time, to make them pay. "All of them; the do-gooders, the liberals and even this fucking hospital with its Goddamned uncomfortable furniture and bad coffee, will regret crossing me," she promised herself.
In fact, anybody and everybody who'd conspired against her, and that included Bob 'fucking' Anderson, would feel her wrath. She hated him. Wasn't it he who had outmanoeuvred her and more or less demanded she leave politics, Alexa raged? Wasn't it his fault Jerry was lying in this hospital bed, unable to do much more than sleep while he recovered? She needed her husband's guidance and intellect but he was unable to help her now.
She had to calm down, so she focused on the steady, rhythmic breathing of her husband, regulated by one of the many blinking and beeping machines that surrounded his bed. His condition was stable. Having suffered what the doctors called a 'Widowmaker,' and complicated further by the burst ulcer he always ignored, her husband's survival was only thanks to the consummate skill of the paramedic who arrived at the Grey's household after Jerry collapsed in a heap after first arguing and then fighting with Bob Anderson.
Jerry might be a lot of things, Alexa knew, and not all of them good, but he was a fine husband and he loved her more than anything in the world. He more than loved her, he worshipped her, he had done ever since they'd started going out with each other after her tempestuous relationship with Bob Anderson had ended. It was a testament to Jerry's character that the men's friendship had stayed intact after she dated and ultimately married him. That made recent events all the more devastating.
Bob had stormed into the Grey's house, barging past her like a raging bull, and headed straight for Jerry's study. Alexa followed him and when she entered the room, he and Jerry were already arguing. Bob had demanded, in his usual condescending arrogance, that Alexa should retire as mayor when her current term expired because Heather was running for election, and he wanted her to become the town's new chief executive. When Jerry, politely but adamantly refused, saying that the decision wasn't his to make, Bob went ape-shit. Then, after threatening to withdraw all his business from Jerry's firm, he then turned to Alexa and shouted at her, calling her everything from the town's whore to Satan's bitch. That's when Jerry moved between his friend and his wife and asked the former to leave.
Bob, still unable to get his own way then said he was going to the gutter press, and he would tell them everything that went on in the Grey household, from the long list of Alexa's lovers to the fact that Jerry wasn't a real man and couldn't keep his woman satisfied. Normally a peaceful man, that was the last straw for Jerry, and he took a swing. The punch landed squarely on Bob’s jaw, sending his head violently sideways. However, adrenaline gave Bob more power and after shaking his head in disbelief, he rushed his old friend.
That's when the struggle began, the one that burst the lawyer’s agitated ulcer. Suddenly releasing his grasp of Bob, Jerry fell to the floor clutching his stomach in an effort to staunch the incapacitating pain. Hearing him beg for help, Alexa rushed to his side, and when she glared up at Bob, all he did was look at them with a victorious sneer. "Let this be a warning. Do as I say otherwise this is just the start of trouble for you both." Then, turning on his heels, he stormed out of the room.
"You poor bastard," Alexa whispered to her dormant husband. It was now his third week in the hospital and Alexa visited him every evening, except for when she couldn't avoid it, like last night and her birthday party last week. "Don’t worry, Darling," she continued in a soft voice, "I'll make sure Bob Anderson doesn't get away with this." A secret smile spread across her lips. "In fact, Jerry, I'm using the very thing he threatened to expose me for, to hang the fucking hypocritical son of a bitch." She thought she saw Jerry’s body twitch in reaction but knew it was just a figment of her imagination.
Tears of anguish welled up in her eyes and Alexa fought hard to control her emotions. It might be a private hospital but doctors and nurses still talked, or in her case gossiped. Rumours in abundance surrounded Alexa, some true, some bad and others damn right lies, but until now, that's all they'd been, just rumours. "Whatever I've put you through, Darling, you didn't deserve this." In a moment of brutal honesty, the distraught wife knew she had won the lottery when she married Jerry.
A year after graduating 'magna cum laude,' Jerry was already making a name for himself when they tied the knot. In the courtroom or across the conference table, Jerry distinguished himself and was gaining a reputation as a hot-shot lawyer, who took no crap from anybody. "Except me," Alexa admitted. From the very beginning of their relationship, she had been in charge. What Alexa’s heart desired, she got it. No questions asked, no compromises sought, Jerry was so besotted with her, he'd do anything to keep her satisfied. 'And I’d taken advantage of the situation,' she thought with mixed feelings.
Early in their marriage, she explained her need for big cocks. How she loved and missed feeling them, stretching her orifices, giving her the burn she needed. Jerry was a small dicked man and didn't have the tool, physically speaking, to satisfy her, so when he asked her what she intended to do, her answer was both shocking, simple, and ruthless. "Easy, I will find well-hung men and they will fuck me, use me, do anything I want. From this day forth, I will be your hot wife and you will be a cuckold."
To emphasise her statement, she'd brought home an athletically built man. When she finished explaining, Alexa then stripped naked and fucked the well-endowed visitor in front of her astounded husband. Consoling himself that the man's IQ probably didn't even reach double figures, Jerry watched his wife humiliate him from his favourite armchair. That was the start of Alexa's hot wife existence. At first, he’d found it hard to accept, but after reaching the conclusion she would leave him anyway if he didn't agree, he soon accepted his role in their marriage.
"If only it had stayed at that," muttered the outgoing mayoress. The second time she wanted to prove her power over her husband, she'd screwed a well-endowed co-worker, before going home. Upon entering their dining room, Alexa, stinking of raw, brutal sex had demanded Jerry prove his devotion. The look of puzzlement on his face disappeared when she stepped out of her skirt and he saw the dark discolouring in her underwear. A thrill of excitement ran down Alexa's spine as she watched Jerry obediently drop to his knees and crawl across the carpet in her direction. Standing there with her feet apart, she pulled the spunk stained gusset aside and ordered him to clean up the mess. She remembered the tremendous orgasm she experienced with fondness.
"I let Bob fuck me, Jerry," she confessed to her dormant husband, her voice softly defiant. "Last week, during my birthday party," she continued as if confessing her sin would absolve her. "I seduced him when I saw that bitch Heather and Sean leave together. After everything he's done… to you, to us, to our plans, he has to pay. Soon we won't have to worry about him. By the time I've finished, he and that skinny little cunt he calls his wife, won't know what's hit them. That's a fucking promise, Jerry, that's a promise. No-one threatens me and gets away with it." Her voice was devoid of all emotion, but no-one heard her speak, not even her sleeping husband.
A nurse entered the room to check Mr. Grey's condition, and Alexa caught the wary look the younger woman gave her. "Anything I can get you, Mrs. Grey?" she asked out of profession courtesy after she had taken care of her patient.
"No thank you, young lady," Alexa replied, giving the nurse a competent once over. 'Hmmm, I wouldn’t mind taking your temperature, Missy. The old-fashioned way,' she mused as she watched the younger woman’s pert bottom disappear from the room. Then her thoughts returned to a darker nature. Bob Anderson might think he's won, but he was wrong on that count. Although she had announced during a press conference at the hospital, that she would probably withdraw from a second term of office, citing Jerry’s health problems as a reason, Alexa knew she couldn't resign now. Despite the sudden bout of election fever her statement had sparked, her non-participation was not what Jerry would have wanted, not after all the work he'd done to secure their financial future. Incapacitated as he was, he would never forgive her if she let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
During covert surveys of Kennedy Park, a nearby national beauty spot, British-American Mines, the largest mining company in the world, had stumbled upon huge amounts of Palladium, a valuable metal used in many industrial processes, and had quietly sought concessions to extract the precious ore from the ground. Jerry had helped the company through the maze of legal mitigation and soon all his efforts would come to fruition. The town would need a ridged hand to guide it through the tumultuous times that lay ahead. There would be some hard, difficult decisions soon, decisions that could benefit the town if the council had someone strong enough to help them through the process.
Alexa knew it would horrify the town's wealthy, liberal-minded folk, folks like Bob Anderson and his ilk despite or maybe because of the huge financial boost the economy would receive. And it wasn't only the town's financial position that would improve if the mining company won the concessions. Aware of the problems they faced, British-American Mines had promised, albeit deniable, financial remuneration to anybody who helped them gain the exclusive mining rights and Alexa, determined to profit from this good fortune, would let nothing get in their way.
It wouldn't be easy, especially considering the company’s reputation for environmental devastation. In the past, their activities had wreaked millions of dollars worth of untold damage, and Kennedy Park was one of America's more resplendent natural areas. Resistance, both local and national would be unavoidable, but Alexa Grey could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Although she had left things a bit late, Alexa knew she would have to prove her reputation for getting things done, once she announced her intention to stay on as the mayoress. And when she and Jerry were victorious, a disgraced and bankrupt Bob Anderson would spend his time trying to survive in prison, while his wife Heather would have to spread her legs to earn a living.
A machine peeped and Alexa, distracted from her reverie, looked up to see nothing out of the ordinary. Another couple of weeks, the doctors had said when they released Jerry from intensive care, before he could come home. He was out of danger and now he needed rest. Lots of rest, they'd said. The machine bleeped again and then fell silent. No-one came rushing in so Alexa assumed everything was under control. She shrugged her shoulders and resumed her contemplations. She had her objectives and had set the wheels in motion. All she could do now was wait.
The memory of her birthday party invaded her thoughts. Lots of hypocritical well-wishers present, all pretending to care for her because she was there unaccompanied. "How is Jerry," or "Such a shame Jerry can't be here tonight," they simpered. Even Bob and Heather, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, offered their sympathy. The mayoress wondered if Heather would have been so compassionate if she had known her husband would fuck Alexa before the evening was over. That thought aroused a malicious smirk.
The stupid fuck had been so blinded by his own importance, he hadn't seen the way his slutty wife was flirting with Sean McCarthy.
"Of course he didn't, Darling," she chided herself, "not the way you were flashing your tits at him," she remembered with an inward smile. The memory of their tryst turned her on, and Alexa felt herself moistening. 'He was a good fuck,' she thought. 'Different from Jerry, more masterful, always had been, even back in the day when they dated at university.' Mind you, she'd always enjoyed the physical side of their relationship. Luckily, Bob's appetites had changed little over the years and that suited her. When she wasn't dishing it out at the TiMiDi club, Alexa liked it rough and Bob Anderson hadn't disappointed her, although he had surprised her in one way. Instead of spraying his seed over her glorious buttocks like he used to do, he came inside her. 'Maybe he was being generous because it was my birthday party,' she mused, a hand resting between her thighs.
o0o
"Hello, Alexa, happy birthday. You’re looking wonderful tonight," an exuberant Bob said, reaching for her hand, his demeanour completely at odds from the last time she saw him. Then like a prince regent of old, he pulled her arm towards himself and pressed his lips to her elegant finger, his eyes never wavering from hers, except for… She giggled when his stare flickered to her chest. Almost immediately he returned his gaze to her face, but they both knew what he’d looked at. From the twinkle in his eyes, it was obvious he liked the way her dress pressed her voluptuous bosom together, the low-cut garment displaying a daring amount of skin.
After greeting him in the receiving line, Alexa, circulating around the ballroom, watched Bob do the same, shaking hands with those he thought might support his wife’s effort to become the town's new Mayor, and embracing those he considered genuine friends. Although they avoided contact, Alexa kept an eye on him, making sure he gradually made his way towards her. Although she was alone, she had something special planned for this evening and the anticipation made her glow. For her age, Alexa knew she looked good. Despite celebrating her mid-century waypoint, the outgoing mayoress looked younger. 'Not much but enough,' she admitted ruefully, having refused to undergo cosmetic surgery, unlike many of her peers, relying instead on genetics. Enough people had commented on her good looks, so it must be true, she told herself.
Okay, she wasn’t as shapely as a certain Mrs. Anderson, but who would be at her age. Although she hated the punishing fitness regime her health instructor put her through, she had kept the dreaded middle-aged spread at bay. ‘Anyway, men enjoy a little junk in the trunk,’ she thought with amusement. A secret smile spread across her sensual mouth. At least her instructor did, she corrected herself, judging from the way his cock was always ready for her during their sessions together. And who said keeping fit had to be boring?
Her envious gaze drifted to Heather. God, she hated that woman. Alexa had no real reason to detest her other than she was the wife of Bob, but she did. It wasn’t fair, or honest, nevertheless, that’s how she felt, and there was nothing she could do about it. Heather was dancing with Sean McCarthy, another contender for Alexa’s position. They both assumed they were the only contestants in the up-and-coming elections and it almost seemed a pity not to spoil their illusions. ‘Let them think they were engaged in an honest election campaign,’ she thought in amusement. It sure looked like they were getting along with each other, and Alexa almost felt sorry for them; Sean for thinking he was acting of his own accord, and Heather because she believed she would win the election.
"Are you enjoying the party Alexa?" inquired Bob, his polite question interrupting her train of thought. With the speed of a trapped cobra, she looked past him and saw Heather and Sean heading towards the bar. Her mouth twitched in amusement when she noticed where Sean’s hand was resting and she returned her attention to the question.
"More than you can imagine, Bob. Thanks for asking." She sipped her wine to disguise her mirth. Sean did not understand he was being used, 'in more ways than one,' she thought, remembering that one afternoon in her office. Alexa’s eyes sparkled.
"So, are you looking forward to enjoying the quiet life after all the political turmoil you’ve caused?" She couldn’t detect any sarcasm or condescension, so Alexa assumed his curiosity was genuine. She nodded her head slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face although it still wrangled her that this overbearing prick had backed her into a corner. Well, she intended to turn the tables on him this evening.
"How is Heather's campaign going?" she replied, giving him a brilliant smile. He seemed to swell up, the pride in his younger bride obvious. 'He was such a fool,' she thought as he spouted Heather's campaign spiel. Feigning interest, Alexa grabbed another wine from a passing waiter, her eyes scanning the room. She listened to him drone on about how great Heather was doing and felt her irritation growing. 'If your wife is so fucking incredible, why is she flirting with her main opponent.' she wanted to ask him, knowing Bob would categorically deny it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her chest forward interrupting his monologue, her dark brown eyes twinkling as she fluttered her lashes at him.
"You know Bob… We could have been great together, you and I," she whispered, staring at him from beneath her made-up eyelids. His gaze flickered between her heaving chest and her semi-innocent expression.
"No, we couldn’t, Alexa. You’re driven by the need for power. You’re ruthless and your methods leave a bad taste in the mouth," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "We were always good in bed, I’ll give you that, and I used to think I could temper your aspirations, but as I got to know you better, I realised you’re too right wing for my liking."
