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The Fruit of Ambition

By: LonleyMistress

folder 1 through F › Alexander

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 3

Views: 2,203

Reviews: 0

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Category: 1 through F › Alexander

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 3

Views: 2,203

Reviews: 0

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Disclaimer: I own neither the movie Alexander nor its characters. I also earn no money from this story. It's purely for entertainment.

One

One

I have been thinking of the best possible way in which I could start this, because, I know that both reading and writing someone's biography tends to get a bit wearisome at times. So after enduring four days worth of sleep debt, and my wife's threatening me to have sex with her or consider the possibility of a divorce, I have finally discovered the perfect way to begin this story, but let me warn you first, that being a police reporter by profession and a young freelance writer I have no prior experience with these things. I must even admit that when he first contacted me, I immediately dismissed him, supposing that it was a prank. I can only assume that the reason why he chose me was because he probably read my short story series in the newspaper and liked my writing. Nonetheless, finding a generous down payment for the job in a private account in a bank somewhere in Athens was enough for me to delightfully accept his offer, but, enough with all this prattling. This is not what I have been paid for now, is it?

If I were to begin telling you this story, because that is what it is, I would start by telling you why people thought of him as a god.

In fact, there were many reasons why he was labeled a god, and perhaps the most obvious reason was his lustrous mane of thick golden blond hair that appeared even more the epitome of radiance while in the sun. It complemented his powerfully built golden body, and framed a perfectly sculptured face. The next was his demeanor and the next, his dark eyes, which from a very early age seemed to possess a permanent fire. Most believed it to be an absolute reflection of his restless personality which of course, manifested itself in the extent of his accomplishments, while on the other hand, others thought it was definite proof of his questionable sanity.

I believe that was why I was able to identify him so easily when he ambled through the doors of the small cafe sometime in the early evening that Saturday. We had been meeting every Saturday for nearly three weeks now over the phone because of his busy schedule, and even though I had seen him on the television and his picture in finance section of newspapers and magazines a few times, I must admit that I never had the luxury of seeing him in real life.

He appeared to me like one of those handsome, well built men who were usually on the cover of one of my wife's hidden erotica novels, and I know that I would have immediately felt a pang of jealousy shooting through my body had there not been that familiar tightening in my groin. I kept telling myself that I was straight, but my cock kept feeding graphic images to my brain of him flinging me over the table and fucking me silly like a sluttly queer.

Some professional I was, I thought; and reluctantly lowered my gaze to the bowl of exotic food I had been picking at on the table.

I had been waiting there for him for over an hour, silently alternating between listening to the sound of the heavy June rain beating against the roof outside, and inhaling the sweet and spicy aromas of the foreign food, that drifted temptingly about the small cafe. My eyes were still lowered when he approached me, the faint scent of dried flowers catching my nose. I was not able to see him, but I could feel the radiance of his smile burn right through my head. I crossed my legs and bit down hard on my lower lip, praying desperately for him not to notice my arousal.

I did a good job of feigning surprise when he tapped on the table to get my attention.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

There was something in his voice that immediately made me feel a little bit more at ease, and if I were to describe it to you right now, I would most likely use the words 'natural charm.'

'Uhm...no, please make yourself comfortable. It seems we might be here for a while." I said glancing through a glass window at the rain pelting outside. "Would you like anything to eat...uhm...Mr...uhm"

"Just call me Alexander," he said flashing me one of his most magnificent smiles. His wild dark eyes spelt mischief, and made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. I had to wonder, was he flirting with me? Taking into consideration all the rumors I had heard about the man, I had pointedly decided to ignore whether or not he was making advances on me, and go ahead with the interview. After all, it was what I was being paid for, wasn't it?

"Okay then Alexander," I replied smiling. "Would you like something to eat?"

A waitress had approached the table and was waiting for his response silently. As her eyes widened, I could tell she had recognised his face.

"Nah, I'll take some coffee, thanks." He responded by flashing her the same dazzling smile he had given me less than a minute ago. My annoyance quickly changed to amusement, as I watched the waitress blush and stumble on her way to get the order. Alexander chuckled.

"You know, I have been interviewing Hephaestion for the book too. Before I began researching, I thought since he knows you very well, he would be a very good source of information for the book. Very reliable..."

"Oh?" Alexander's amusement turned to surprise, as he once again met my eyes. "When?"

"On Thursday evenings. I thought he told you. You don't have a problem with it, do you?"

Alexander ran a hand through his thick blond hair and sighed looking at the table. "No, not at all, it's just that he hasn't told me anything about it."

He narrowed his eyes, and continued staring at the table. "We barely tell each other anything anymore," he muttered miserably. He continued staring at the table for a moment in silence, which was broken by the sound of the waitress who had approached the table flushed, with a steaming cup of fresh coffee. I was so caught up in the scent, that I just about heard the waitress shyly wish Alexander a good meal.

"Can we start now?" asked Alexander impatiently, glancing at a clock on the wall.

I was sure I could see a mixture of boredom, misery and a hint of pain in those dark fiery orbs.

"Very well then," I replied, taking the tape recorder out of my pocket and placing it on the table. Today was the day when Alexander the Great would tell me the story of when he and Hephaestion first met.

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