0 comments/ 13421 views/ 1 favorites Footsteps By: cafeaulait Footsteps…I heard your footsteps outside the bathroom wall, along the apartment hallway and felt heat between my legs…I look at my watch—you're right on time, 7:45. I marvel at your timeliness when it matters, at your masculinity, at the effect your footsteps have on my body. I turn off the lights and run naked to the bathroom. "Baby? You here?" The acoustics cause your voice to echo through the hall, to the bathroom, causing a slight ripple in the water. The low octave of your voice gives me chills. My nipples harden. I wait in anticipation to be discovered. You walk down the hall, placing your briefcase on the hall table and your raincoat on the coat rack. Arriving in the living room you look lean against the back of the couch and gaze at the great city skyline as you remove your shoes. From the periphery, you notice flickering that seems to be coming from the bathroom. You smile to yourself and begin to shed your suit as you pick up the pace and turn left down the hallway. You skulk down the hallway, like a cat burglar looking to score a great bounty. In only your socks, your dreams of my moistness cause your member to rise, and you coax it's rising with soft strokes. You arrive at the bathroom doorway. You peek around and watch me. I pretend you aren't there; the candles around the bathtub smell of magnolia and sea breeze and the smell is erotic. I move my hand underwater to stroke my lower lips and moan as I find the place that you have tasted many times. You watch me lazily pleasure myself and throb in response. You still feel to be the voyeur and watch me move my other hand over my breast, up my neck and against my cheek. You can't take anymore and when you notice my eyelids relax to close, you move into the bathroom. I smile, sensing your presence and turn to be greeted by your cock. I wrap my hands around your ass and slide you towards my mouth. I love feeling you in my mouth and lovingly lap at the head and shaft. I move down your shaft until I connect with the musk of your pubic hairs; you moan loudly and twitch in my mouth. I gaze up at you sexily as I move up your shaft, circling my tongue in the upswing. I slowly stroke your cock as I flick at its opening with my tongue. My repeating motions: tongue, fingers, lips, pressure, they act in rhythm with your moaning and bring you to heightened pleasure. I lap at your dick and moan at the chance I am given to pleasure you. I feel you twitch repeatedly in my mouth and know what will soon be next if I continue…. You moan my name over and over, panting and grinding your hips against my face. You caress my hair and over my cheeks and quickly withdraw from my warm, wet mouth. "Baby, I don't want to cum yet, the night has just begun…" you kneel down and kiss me. "Please, join me," I smirk and pull you to join me. You remove your socks and step into the steamy tub. You sit in the water, still hard and I stand up so that you can get better positioning. I slide back into the tub, positioning my knees on the outside of your thighs and my pussy against the tip of your cock. I move an inch down, letting only the head into my warm wetness. You sigh and place your hands against my hips, waiting for me to slide further down your shaft. I tease and move off you—you try to pull me to you but I wiggle away. You grab my waist and place me on my feet as you rise to yours. You pick me up and over your shoulder and walk towards the bed. You slap my wet ass and I laugh, but gasp as I feel your finger rub against my anus. Surprising to me, I feel flush as you continue to rub your thumb across my asshole. We get to the room and you throw me onto the bed. You spread my legs wide and pull me towards the edge of the bed. You kneel at the bedside and place your hands on each side of my lips. Parting them, you lap upwards towards my clit and circle it, applying pressure with your lips. I writhe in response; you move toward the nightstand to get my vibrator. Turning it on, you slide the vibrator into my pussy while licking between my lips. The feeling is uncontrollable and I am ready to release. "Please," I gasp "please, baby, oooh…" You buzz a spot deep inside me with my vibrator (you use it so much better than I ever could) and I'm gone, I cry out, locking my fingers in the bedsheets and arching my back. You slide against me, pull me to your chest and roll onto your back. My favorite position…hmmm.. I straddle your hips, and slide down your pole. I move my hips back and bounce my ass up and down rhythmically, like a native dancer in a love ritual. You flick your fingers against my nipples and arch your back to meet my hips…"baby, baby,baby....I'm cumming!" I roll off of you and you roll onto your knees, you release onto my stomach and I rub your erotic lotion into my skin, watching it glisten in the city lights...we kiss, I jump up from the bed and give you a sexy look..you take the cue and rise from the bed (literally and figuratively) as I run to the bathroom to wash...I think I might need some help... Footsteps {I hear the footsteps coming now, I am writing this in longhand, going as quickly as I can. It's like a echo, the sounds of shoes on cement in the bleak and barren hallway outside. Nothing in time, the click is off step and then together for a moment, random. Odd that I notice that so completely at a time like this. I wrote down the rest of the story earlier, I had plenty of time to do that. There could have been more time but I told the lawyer to give it up. Unlike most attorneys, he didn't mind very well and kept right on trying, even though I refused to sign anything. Power of attorney, in my best interests, he told me. I told him to leave me alone. The outcome? It was going to just be the same, I am sure of that. There comes a time when enough is enough. I am ready. I really have been ready for quite a long time.} +++ I want the dreams to end. They say I killed some people, but I don't think so. Someone else must have, all I did was dream. I want the dreams to end. +++ "Ready?" The jailer I had befriended asked me. I glanced at the clock across the hallway, it was 10 minutes to midnight. The clock makes a clicking sound when each minute passes. Sometimes I sat and counted, I got pretty close. I have done that thousands of times. "Yes." I answered quietly. "This it?" He asked, taking the single sheet of paper from my hand. Then he retrieved the stub of a pencil. "Thanks for not causing me any trouble, I wasn't supposed to give you that." I just nodded, stood there. "I have to do this, sorry." He told me, slipping the set of handcuffs on. I just nodded again. I swear I saw the trace of a tear in his eye as he steered me toward the cell door. I wondered why? "I want you to know I am sorry as hell about this, Jack." He told me. I just nodded. The man knew my story. The echo of footsteps began again, the clock on the wall clicked. Nine minutes to midnight. Earlier I handed the rest of my story to the jailer, the last part came to me in a dream, just like I wrote it. Would the scene play out in truth? I don't know. I just want the dreams to end. +++ The jailer sat down at his computer. He reread what Jack Spencer had written. He really did like the man, although there was no doubt in his mind the man was crazy as a loon. +++ By Jack Spencer This story is about Jack Spencer. That is me, but somehow it doesn't seem like it is me. Jack Spencer wasn't a jock in high school, he wasn't a nerd either. The very best description of him was that he was there. Barely 5'8" and 150 pounds, no one really paid any attention at all to him. By the time he reached his second year in college he was 5' 8" tall and 160 pounds, not a lot had really changed. The extra ten pounds was solid muscle, though. Jack spent a lot of time in the gym, trying to bulk up, trying to be something he simply was not blessed with naturally. Nothing much happened except that he really did get himself in solid shape. There had been a few dates in high school and again in college, none of them led to much of anything. His very first kiss came when he was 19, that was when his date stood on tiptoe and gave him a peck right on the lips. Then she giggled and went inside. Now, several years later, Jack didn't even remember the girl's name, but he did remember that moment. Earlier when he had danced with her, Jack had kept the palm of his right hand turned downwards like his Grandmother had taught him, his forearm barely brushing her so as to not offend the lady. The girl had actually pressed against him, Jack had been acutely aware of the feeling of her body moving so close to his. She was very warm. He felt somewhat flustered, glancing quickly around. But no one was paying any attention at all. It was the very first time, always before he had left the careful 3 to 6 inches between himself and anyone he was dancing with. The sensation of her made his head swim, he really liked it. She was short, much shorter than he was. This caused his leg to touch her, touch her sex through her clothing. He could feel that, he felt his body flush, begin to sweat. She just smiled and said nothing. After that, he was less careful about how he held the women when he danced, not a single one of them acted like they minded that. With his hand on their waists, he could feel their flesh through the clothing, that was marvelous. Some, not all of course, would firmly press their upper bodies against his, a few of them he knew very well had nothing at all on under their blouses. Some even pressed their loins to him, while they talked like nothing was happening. Jack, being hopelessly bashful, missed all of the clues. His mind swirled into fantasy when he danced with girls like that. Those became fantasy for self relief, by the time Jack was 23 he still had not engaged in actual sex. A good portion of the reason for that was the overly conservative upbringing, mixed with his natural shyness and lack of aggression. His grandmother had raised him in the older years of his youth, she was a very conservative lady. That terrible day when everything normal in Jack's life was ripped apart was burned into his mind. It was the last time he saw his father, the man he worshipped. Dad knew everything and could do anything. Jack learned from him to ride a bike, how to fish and hunt. Those times were wonderful, and he always did his very best to excel in his schoolwork, so that his Dad could read the report card, pat Jack on the head and hug him. His Mother was also loving and kind, Jack was a very happy young man until that day just short of his 14th birthday. "You lying motherfucking BITCH!" Jack heard his father scream that morning. He sat up in bed, terrified. He had never heard his father yell or swear like that, not one time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen!" He heard his Mother wail. "With that lowlife black bastard, of all people! You KNOW how I feel about that!" "Please, Donny. Jack will hear you!" She pleaded. The voices got more subdued, but Jack could hear them. He was on his bed, terrified, weeping. He sat and listened to the argument, then the crying and begging. Finally there was the slam of the front door, his Father was gone. For some time after, his Mother was a basket case. She was constantly drunk, to the point where she did nothing except sit around and cry. Jack felt complete helplessness, not knowing what was wrong or what to do. Then one day he was delivered to his Grandmother's house, told to go into the bedroom. Jack listened at the door as his Mother and Grandmother spoke. The tone in his Grandmother's voice was stern. He learned that day that his Father had caught his Mother with a man, it was something that up until that moment he never really understood. He also learned that day that that the man he worshipped as his Father was not. The man he worshipped, the man he knew as his Father no longer wanted him. His Mother did come to visit, those days became less and less until finally one day his Grandmother sat him down and told him quietly that his Mother was never going to come again. At the funeral, there was only Jack and his Grandmother. +++ Jack became cautious around women after that, even though his hormones raged. His body told him one thing but his mind told him quite another. There had not even been any necking and petting sessions in his car or anywhere, the opportunity did not present itself. Jack saw to that, he was careful about that. Then the dancing. He could do that, and still be safe. All it took for Jack to escape was for the song to end. Then he met Sandy Dillard. He spotted her coming out of a tiny little cafe with two other women. Something about her made his entire body flush. She wasn't one of those model type beauties, in fact she looked a bit soft in her crisscross top and short skirt, her midriff bare. She also wore heels, those seemed just a little bit too high for what would be normal every day wear, very likely her attempt to be a real five feet tall. The long and flowing red hair swept over her shoulders, she had several books in one arm and a huge purse over her shoulder. When she turned to say something to one of the other women, somehow her heel caught and the shoe folded, down she went. Jack was by her side in just a few quick steps, he helped her up, then reached down to gather her things. "Are you all right?" He asked, but she didn't answer him. "Oh, damn! I just bought these!" She had the shoe in her hand. Jack took it and looked at it, but no way could he fix it so he handed it back. She peered at him for a moment, that was when Jack realized how thick her glasses were. They were round, gold wire frames and small lenses, it gave her a really different look. Her eyes were huge, green behind the lenses. "You are cute!" She smiled, causing Jack's face to turn pink. One of the other women giggled. "God, he is shy, too!" She smiled, saying that to no one in particular. Then she reached out and put her hand on Jack's bicep, gave it a small squeeze. "Thank you for helping me, sweetie. Wow! You really have great arms!" That smile flashed across her face, Jack stood there tongue tied. They just stood and looked at each other for several long moments. "Well, come on." She said finally, reaching down to take his hand. "God, Sandy!" One of the other women broke out laughing. Jack had no idea at all of what to do, there was no song to end and allow him to escape. "Yea, what are you doing?" The other one said, they both were finding whatever was happening hilarious. "I am picking this guy up! He is cute! Hey, what's your name, honey?" She asked. "Uhh...I am Jack. Jack Spencer." "Well, come on, Jack. I want to share a Chocolate soda with you, you like Chocolate sodas, don't you? I'm Sandy." She tugged on his hand and Jack went meekly along with her. "Bye, Sandy!" One of the other women said, still laughing. "She did it again!" He heard the other one say, but that went right over Jack's head. Jack really had no idea at all how it happened, but less than two hours later Sandy had him pressed back onto her bed, her hands eagerly stroking him. The resistance he normally portrayed faded, he became helpless before this woman's advances. His mind was once again telling him no, his body resisted and won. Sandy's body was soft yet firm with youth, her breasts were freckled above where she obviously wore a bikini top in the sunlight. The white area of skin below came barely to the top of her matching sparse red pubic hair, the upper edges of her nipples were darkened where the sun had peeked inside her tops. Jack Spencer learned about sex that afternoon, it was amazing and he couldn't get enough of it. He found the bump at the top of her vagina, it was easily the size of his thumb. From her instant reaction when he discovered that with his fingertips, he knew he had something figured out so he played with that a lot. At one point, after quite a bit of encouragement, she got Jack to wrap his lips around that while she sucked gently on the end of his penis. Then she started to thrash, he had a hell of a time staying on it. The idea had at first seemed gross to him, but once he started he realized he really liked that. Finally she was gasping for breath, and she told him, "Stop for a minute!", scooting away from him. For a moment he thought he had done something wrong. "God, you would think you haven't had sex for months!" She said with a grin. "I never have...before." He told her. Sandy just looked at him. "Really? A virgin? Well, I'll be damned!" Then she giggled, piled on top of him. "I am going to keep you!" She told him. Sandy meant that, too. They were married just four short months later. The first few months were a bit of a struggle financially, then Jack's Grandmother Martha passed away. She died of natural causes, quietly in her sleep one night with not a speck of warning. She had doted on Jack, he doted right back on her as his substitute Mother. Then there were the long talks, Martha delighted in offering Jack her wealth of experience about things in the world. Even so, he was surprised to find out that she not only left him the house and property he had helped her care for over the years, but also all of her stock in a produce canning company his Grandfather had worked for. She bypassed her two brothers she had that Jack had met just one time, and the remaining living Daughter that Jack knew only from photos. Jack really didn't remember his Grandpa, but he knew the man had carefully purchased the stock each and every payday. That turned out to be a lot of money. Of course the Daughter did show up demanding everything, she was a much younger and harsher sounding version of her Mother. But his Grandmother had placed everything in a life estate, it could not be broken. In the last few years of his Grandmother's life, Jack knew of just three telephone calls from her daughter. All three were asking to borrow money. +++ Jack bought a nice little bungalow for himself and Sandy, it had two spare bedrooms, a neat garage where he could keep his weights, even a big back yard. There was a row of overly tall Poplar trees, some beautiful Rhododendron plants that were in full bloom when they first saw the place. It was perfect, there was even room for a garden out back. Life with Sandy was wonderful, she had a huge circle of friends that quickly became their friends. She kept a perfect house, in some ways a bit too perfect because Jack could not set down a newspaper on the floor. She would jump up and grab it, fold it and put it neatly away. The one thing that Sandy refused to do was go with him on his Fall hunting trips. Jack had gone with his Father every fall, without fail for year after year. First as a very young child and unarmed, then at age 10 he was handed the rifle and carefully taught to use it. He had been barely 12 when he dropped his first Buck, a big 5 point. He had taken one every year since. When his Father had simply driven away that terrible day, he left behind his own old model 94 Winchester. The rifle was very old, but no one could tell by looking, it appeared brand new. Jack also had his own Marlin .30-.30, but he oiled that one down and locked it on the gun rack, preferring to use the open sight Winchester. Somehow that was more sporting than using the scope. Somehow with that tool in his hands, it was like when he was back in the happy times. Now it was just Jack and his best buddy, Darin, on the week to ten day trips. They had grown up together, Darin had gotten his first Buck the year after Jack did. Darin and Jack also worked out together, sometimes they used the weights at his house but more often they were down at the gym. Darin was very close to Jack's size and build, so close they could easily share clothing. Even their shoes fit each other. Sandy just stayed home during his annual trips, she didn't seem to mind those at all. She had one very close friend named Sara Anderson, and it was a chance for them to hang out together and do girl things, they had been close friends since the first grade. Jack really didn't like Sara all that much, for one thing she was always showing up with some new boyfriend, for another she nearly always dressed far too much like a slut. But she was Sandy's friend, what could he say? Sandy really seemed to enjoy the time for just being with Sara, she told him they shopped or went to the park, a beach once, just having fun. One thing Jack had noticed about Sara, she never wore underwear. She was completely careless about that, too. The first few times he saw her bend over to reach for something and her bare breast was completely in view he was embarrassed, but over a couple of years he actually got used to that and paid little attention. It was just the way Sara was, and since she was not married and had taken no vows, what could he say? Sandy dressed attractively, but she was always covered. Except for when she sunbathed, her outfits were very tiny. But he knew she had always done that, so it really didn't upset him much. Jack knew she was deliriously happy with him, just like he was with her. The first time he saw the rest of Sara was when she sat down on the floor with Sandy, looking at some magazines. Jack was sitting in his chair watching TV. Darin was sitting across from him, they had just finished doing some weights. "Don't the guys look great all sweaty and pumped up like that?" Sandy grinned at Sara. "Yea, it makes me hot!" She said, looking directly at Jack when she said that. He glanced over and Sara's ankles were crossed, skirt tugged up high over her knees, she could not possibly be more exposed. "Sara! Good grief! You are kind of hanging out there." Jack told her, blushing. "It's just my pussy, you have seen one of those before, haven't you?" She looked up at him and laughed, making no move to cover up. Both Sandy and Sara just roared about that, then went right back to the magazines. Darin sat there in surprise. That was a bit too much for Jack, he got up and went out into the garage and lifted some more weights. Sara was just plain crazy, he decided. He was mildly irritated with Darin that time, he stayed in the house. Then Darin even dated Sara a couple of times, but he confided in Jack that he almost couldn't take her anywhere public, she was always flashing everyone in sight and it made him uncomfortable. "That first date I was going to take her to the old drive in movie? We didn't even get there, she is just way too easy for my taste." Darin told him. That Jack could understand, there was something very wrong with her, but she and Sandy were such good friends he tolerated it. He saw her dozens of times like that, she acted like she didn't even care. But he did tolerate Sara, even though he didn't understand her complete lack of modesty. He wasn't entirely positive but he thought Sara was the one that had been there the day he met Sandy. She was probably the one that mentioned, "She did it again!" as they walked away laughing. Jack thought about that comment. Sandy had been so very young, experimenting with life. Jack knew damn good and well that Sandy had some experiences before they met, but he never brought it up. Sandy was his now, that was all that mattered. In the back of his mind he didn't trust Sara at all, but as long as Sandy wasn't doing anything, it wasn't his problem. Sara was just Sara, Sandy was his and she never showed any signs at all of doing anything that might upset him. There were no odd phone calls, no sign of any secrets. Most of the time she didn't even log off of her email box, just left it there up on the screen. Jack had no reason at all to ever be even slightly suspicious. So even with Sara being a blatant exhibitionist, that was just Sara. Sandy and he were just fine with each other. Even the rare times she danced with friends at parties, she never cuddled up, never did or allowed any touching at all. She only did that with Jack. Once he asked Sandy about Sara's exhibitionism, she just shrugged and acted like it didn't matter to her either. She had known Sara since they were kids, and was just used to her. At one point Jack asked Sandy about having children, she hesitated but then told him that they could try. After a year of trying, they went to see a Doctor. Jack's sperm count was very normal, and the Doctor told them that Sandy was perfectly normal also. It was few months later when Jack was looking for a tool, he found the little round packet, with the pills right up to date. That was their very first fight, she finally admitted that she didn't want children, it would cause her to lose her figure and make her breasts "all soft and gooey." Footsteps Jack was so angry that she had lied about trying, he spent that night in the spare bedroom, the first time in their marriage that he did that. The next night she came into the spare bedroom naked, and things were made up and back to normal. "Just give me some time, Jack. I am still young and I want to stay attractive as long as I can, we have plenty of time to have kids later on." "You are almost thirty years old now, don't you think it would be easier while you are still so young?" He encouraged her. "Yes, probably, honey. Let's think about that in in another year or so." She cuddled up close to him. Jack reluctantly accepted that. +++ The day he was leaving on his annual hunting trip, Sandy hugged him and kissed him as he loaded his old 4 wheel drive Jeep. Sara was already over, she sat on the porch while he said goodbye, giving him a little wave when he glanced her way. In a bit over four hours, he pulled into his favorite camp site. Several of his other friends were already there, they all sat around and drank some beer and talked about hunting. None of Jack's close friends ever hung around his place much, it was nearly always Sandy's circle of friends that were at the house more often than not. Jack had long since gotten used to Sandy's socializing, plus he really enjoyed having people around. Often they weren't really even parties, it was more like regular visits. A few times there was some drinking, and one couple that showed up with stuff to smoke but Jack refused to touch the stuff. He noticed Sandy did. He figured she was all grown up now, that was up to her. He didn't like that, though. He made them smoke that stuff outside on the back deck, even though they laughed and called him an "old fuddy duddy." They all had long since gotten used to Jack not standing for foul language around his house, so most of the gatherings stayed pretty mellow. The hunting trips were completely different, the other men didn't have to watch their language or anything. The conversations became sprinkled with a lot of four letter words. But it was always a good and relaxing time. Jack never swore himself, he always remembered his Grandmother's words. "Filth in the mouth is filth in the soul." She told him many times. Finally the rest of the hunting crew drifted off to their bed scattered around in the camp site, leaving just Jack and Darin at their camp. Later that night a van pulled in, two men got out and came over to the camp fire. Darin introduced them but Jack almost instantly forgot their names. Jack didn't know them but Darin, his best hunting and work out buddy did. He had invited them mostly out of politeness, and they had taken him up on it. Normally on the trips it was just Darin and Jack, they worked together very well on the hunts. It didn't take the two men more than a couple of beers and they wanted to talk about their conquests instead of talk about hunting. One of them wisecracked about how he loved hunting season, it was the best time to hit the bars because all the horny housewives headed out looking, too. It was all just bull, Jack thought, beer talking. Besides, he couldn't imagine anyone hitting on some other man's wife. That terrible time far back in his past was kept shoved completely out of his mind. Jack was bored with the bragging, the stories, so he excused himself and went to his tent. He could hear the two guys droning on and on out there, and was wishing they would shut up. Then when one of them said something about a foxy brunette and a redhead, his ears perked up. "That was just last season, and they were the nuttiest pair we ever ran into, let me tell you!" One of them said. "Yea, that brunette spent more time sticking out of her clothes than in them!" "Man, I still almost don't believe that we got to take turns with both of them! Did it right in the poor bastard's bed!" Then they laughed like that was hilarious. Jack sat up. Redhead and a brunette? No, it couldn't be. He lay back down. "Hell, I was working on using my best lines and the redhead just says, 'Come on!' Then she grabs my hand and off we go." "That redhead hiked her butt in the air, the only flaw I could find on her was a little mole right on her ass, and I looked!" He let out a drunken snicker. Jack sat back up. Sandy had a mole on her left butt cheek. "Bareback, too. They both said they were on the pill." The other guy said. "Nice thing about the married ones, less chance of catching anything." "The redhead told me I had the biggest one she ever had." One of them snorted. "Yea, Joe here is hung like a fucking horse, lucky bastard." the other man snorted. "At least you could get it up her ass, I couldn't. That Sara sure could take it though." Both of them were getting loud, roaring with laughter at their own comments. Sara? Jack was now wide awake. He felt his face begin to flush, these two jerks couldn't possibly be talking about....? "What was that redhead's name, Sandy I think? Damn, she had the tightest snatch I ever had, nubbin the size of a fucking marble. Hell, I even managed to fuck her twice." The one the guy called Joe said. "We should be down there instead of up here in the fucking woods. I bet they are hanging out at the Flower Drum right now." Jack knew where the Flower Drum was, it was a country bar less than three miles from his house. He got up and pulled on his pants and a shirt, went outside and sat down. "Can't sleep, bud?" The one he now knew was Joe asked. "Naw, too early. Say, those two you were talking about, did you get any last names?" "Yea, what the fuck was that, Kerry? The brunette was...Anderson, I think, the other one I don't remember." "She told me but damned if I can remember it. She kept flashing that rock on her finger, telling us hubby was out of town and it was time to play. Man, I sure would like to run into those two again!" He laughed. Jack heard Darin let out a gasp. He saw red, his mind went into a total rage. Joe spotted the expression on Jack's face in the flickering light. "What's up with him?" He asked Darin as Jack got up and went into his tent. He walked back out carrying the Winchester, the two men just looked at him. "Hey, bud....?" Joe said. "Jack!" Darin said. "You guys are talking about my fucking WIFE!" He yelled, heading for the Jeep. Filth in the soul. But now all he could think of was to get home. "Oh, shit man! Hey we didn't...." "Jack!" Darin was getting up, but Jack was already at the Jeep. He headed down the dirt path for the highway. The Jeep was flat out at 90 miles per hour, it wouldn't go any faster, he tried. Jack was having trouble seeing, his eyes kept filling with tears, his mind was a whirlwind of emotion. It took nearly four hours to get to his house, it was 4 in the morning by the time he arrived. He saw lights on in the kitchen, looking in the window he saw no one. He went around back, it was dark. He listened, someone was snoring in their spare bedroom. He walked back to the Jeep, picked up his rifle, went to the front door. It wasn't even locked. In the living room, he could see someone's shirt draped over the back of his couch, the night light they always kept plugged in gave off enough dim light to make that out. As he was standing there in the near darkness listening, he heard a noise. Someone came out of the spare bedroom, it was a very tall black man. He was naked. He went inside and there were sounds of him urinating. Jack just stood there, struggling with himself. The man came out, Jack knew the man wouldn't see him standing there unless he looked directly at him. The man never noticed, he went back to the spare bedroom, started to open the door. Then he hesitated, turned and walked over to the main bedroom, went inside. Jack heard some muffled voices, some giggling. A shorter white man came out, went down the hall and into the spare bedroom. He waited for a few minutes, then he heard the moaning. That was moment when he snapped. Walking over to the door, he pushed it open, switched on the light. Sandy was on her back, naked, the man on top of her. The dark man was thrusting at her. She turned her head to look his way, her eyes widened in surprise. Jack saw the flash of the diamond he so carefully had set for her on her left hand, obvious against the dark skin. That was the trigger, the deciding factor. That ring. On her finger, the token he had given her to show his undying love. The stone so carefully removed from the ring worn by his Grandmother for over 50 years. Transferred and the ring made just for her. Sandy moved, the stone flashed once again in the light. It sealed her fate. Rage tore though him. She opened her mouth to say something, Jack lifted the rifle barrel and shot her between the eyes. The dark man leaped to his feet, looked at Jack in shock. His hands came up to protect himself, as Jack swung the barrel his way. This man had to have seen that ring. He was killing a marriage, for a moment of sex. Jack shot him in the chest, he crumpled over backwards. He lay there for a moment, then he moved, struggling to get up. Jack levered in another round and shot him the second time. He turned and walked out the door, the white man was looking out of the spare bedroom door. He saw Jack and jumped back, Jack pushed the door open, the man cowered against the wall naked, his hand held up, palms out. He shot him in the chest, too. Sara was on the bed, she had crawled back against the head board, the covers drawn up tightly as she tried to press herself backwards. "Oh, God, Jack. NO! Please! Don't!" She screamed. He had the rifle sighted on her face, she stared at him with tears streaming down her face. "You motherfucking lying BITCH!" Jack yelled, through the haze of red. He pulled the trigger, Sara slammed backwards against the headboard, then slumped over. Then Jack went back into the main bedroom. Both Sandy and the black man were obviously dead. He sat down in a chair, his eyes flooded with tears. He stuck the muzzle of the rifle underneath his chin, reached down and pulled the trigger. Click. Cartridges. He had more in his Jeep. He stood up. +++ "Oh, Jack. What did you do? My God! Oh, God, Oh God, NO!! JACK!" He heard Darin screaming. The haze lifted. Jack looked over at his friend standing in the doorway, back at what he had done. Then he passed out. +++ {Click. The clock ticked off another minute, five minutes to midnight. Two men stood over him, he could see the jailer he had befriended. The man stood there with no expression on his face, still holding the sheet of paper Jack had handed him. He felt his arms and body being strapped down snugly. Click. Glancing up, he saw the big clock. Four minutes to midnight. Jack closed his eyes, started to count. "One thousand and one, one thousand and two...." He set a cadence in his mind. Click. That came just before he got to one thousand and sixty. "One thousand and one, one thousand and two...." Click. He was early that time. "One thousand and one, one thousand and two...." Click. "One thousand and one, one thousand.... There was a jangling noise, it interrupted his counting. What was that? Voices. "Release him." Someone said. He felt a brief stab of pain in his arm as the needle was removed. Jack opened his eyes. "What's going on?" He asked. The jailer he had befriended stood there, grinning, looking down at him. "That was the Governor, he overturned your sentence. Temporary insanity. Looks like they will be sending you to a facility for treatment." "NOOOOO!" Jack screamed. They wheeled him down the hallway, still screaming and struggling. The jailer looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. He sighed, some days he hated this job. He folded the sheet of paper, stuck it in his pocket. He knew he would do what he had promised. The screams still came from down the hallway, they lasted for a long time. "That poor bastard." He muttered to himself.} +++ Dreams. Jack woke up with a start, his body soaked in sweat. For a moment he did not know where he was, then he felt the chill night air, moist from the late night fog. It took a few seconds, then he could make out the tent flap in the flickering light from the remains of the campfire. Looking over, he saw the form lying in a sleeping bag on the other side of the tent, softly snoring. Darin. It was a dream, a terrible dream, already sliding from his mind. Just a dream. Then he remembered the two men, Joe and Kerry. They had arrived late the night before, and quickly gotten drunk, spending most of the night bragging about their conquests. That had driven Jack nuts, so he went to bed. Bragging about looking for cheating wives was not something he cared to listen to. Digging around, he found his watch, touched the button to illuminate it. 4 AM. +++ Sandy had hugged him, kissed him as he prepared to leave for the trip in his old Jeep. Sara had sat on the porch, dressed in slacks and a sweater to ward off the cool air of Fall. "So what do you girls have planned for while I am gone?" Jack had asked Sandy. "Nothing special, honey. Just shopping, maybe go out for a nice dinner. You and Darin have fun, bring home a big one." She stood on tiptoe to give him a final peck on the lips. +++ The dream again? What was that, it was in his mind but faded, like part of it was real and a portion of it just a bad nightmare. Deep down inside, Jack knew. He had known for quite a long time, shoved it deep into the back of his mind, not wanting to know, not wanting to believe. There was no escape from knowing, it kept coming back to him in those terrible dreams. The dreams kept changing though. What was it the two men had been saying, just before he had drifted off to sleep? Two women, a brunette, a redhead? A mole? Sara, and Sandy? It couldn't be, it just could not be! But Jack knew. +++ The Dream. He reached for his jacket, he still had his blue jeans on. He walked outside, it was quiet, so very quiet. He saw the two forms curled up in heavy sleeping bags over by the campfire, it glowed faintly. Jack walked over, unlocked his Jeep and started the engine. "Jack? Where in the hell are you going?" He heard Darin call out. Looking over, he saw Darin start to head his way. Jack put the Jeep in gear and headed down the dirt path to the highway. It was nearly 8 AM when he pulled up at his house. Jack went around back, reaching in and picked up the old Winchester. He walked up to his door, it was locked. Fumbling for his key, he found it, opened the door and went inside. Standing there for a moment, he listened. It was quiet. Jack walked over to his bedroom door, shoved it open. Sandy lay there in the bed. She was alone. Jack stared at her for a moment, then he reached down and eased the hammer down on the carbine. +++ Just a dream, was he dreaming now? Sandy stirred, looked at him in surprise. "Jack? What? Why are you back so early? Did you get your Deer alre....?" She looked down, saw the rifle. Her eyes widened in confusion. "What?" "I just thought..." Jack started to say. Sandy just stared at him. "What's wrong, Jack?" "Who is here?" He asked. "Just Sara. She is in the other room. She has a..boyfriend." Sandy sat up. She had on her flannel pajama tops. Jack could see that she didn't have the bottoms on, Sandy caught his glance and quickly tugged the blankets up, flushing. It struck him that this was an odd thing to dream about. "I'm sorry. Two guys came up to the camp, they were talking. They bragged about...picking up some housewives, it sounded like you and Sara and....I thought.." Now Jack felt stupid. "Oh. You thought I was cheating? You know I would never do that. You are scaring me, honey!" "I'm sorry." Jack went out and put his rifle in the gun case, locked it. Then he went in and made some coffee, took it in and sat down in the living room. Sara came out of the bedroom, headed for the bathroom. She was naked. She saw Jack, stopped. "Oh! Jack? What are you doing home?" She looked suddenly nervous. "Put some clothes on, Sara." Jack told her, looking away. She went back into the spare bedroom, Jack heard her saying something, then a male voice. She came back out wearing a T-shirt. She glanced at Jack again and went into the bathroom, closed the door. A man came out, he was fully dressed. Jack had seen him several times before, he was at a few of their parties. "Hello, Jack." Jack just nodded. "I guess I better be heading out, work to do." The man said, heading for the door. He looked a bit nervous, too. Jack just watched him go, sipping his coffee. His mind was completely blank. Sara came out, looked at Jack, then she went into the bedroom where Sandy was. He could hear them talking but couldn't quite make out the words. It sounded like they were whispering. "Christ, twenty minutes sooner and..." That was Sara. "Shhhh!" Sandy came out, smiled at him. "Want some breakfast, honey?" She asked. "Not really." "I can make some eggs." "No, that's all right." "Well, come on in the kitchen and talk to me." "I am fine right here." "Honey? Please? Come on in." Sandy just stood there in the doorway. Jack knew right then. It wasn't a dream this time. He got up, walked down the hallway and into their main bedroom. "Jack?" He heard Sandy call out to him. Sara stood there holding an arm full of the bed sheets, folded fresh ones lay on the mattress. Her face flushed bright red. "What are you doing?" He asked her, already knowing. "I am just changing the bed." She looked frightened. "Why? It's 8 o'clock in the morning." "I just...Sandy wanted..." Jack reached out and jerked the sheets out of her hand. He saw the stains, still moist. He dropped them on the floor. He walked over to the dresser drawer, pulled out his .45 Colt he kept there. That one he never kept locked up. Sara stared at him, frozen. Sandy stepped in just as he turned. "Jack?" She said, glancing down at the pistol in his hand, fear flashing across her face. +++ Dreams. Jack was sitting there, tears streaming down his face when Darin rushed in. "Oh, God, Jack! What did you do?" +++ It was just a dream. It felt like one, anyway. Every day when Jack woke up, he remembered the dream. There were a lot of days when he woke up and remembered the dream. The dream kept changing. +++ Jack looked at Sandy, back at Sara. The tall dark man cowered in the corner, naked. The other man was whining, trying to dress while saying he was sorry, he didn't know. He kept glancing down at the heavy pistol Jack held in his hand. Sara, standing there naked, terrified. Sandy dressed only in the tops of her pajamas. "You lying motherfucking BITCH!" Jack screamed at her, then turned and walked out the door. +++ Footsteps. Jack could hear them coming out in the stark long hallway, they echoed oddly. He glanced up at the big clock. Ten minutes to midnight. +++ {Click. Two minutes to midnight. One thousand and one, one thousand and two...Jack counted the cadence out loud. He was right on the button that time. He smiled, closed his eyes. One minute to midnight. One thousand and one, one thousand and two... Click. +++ The jailer turned away as the other man opened the valve. It wasn't something he wished to see. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Being crazy as a loon, he thought that Jack Spencer did not belong here, he did not deserve the punishment he received. Or maybe he did? Who knows? Any man who could kill like that, six people dead and for what? Footsteps Two left on the mountain, simply shot where they lay sleeping. Four more at the house miles away? Why? All because of a lying unfaithful wife? What was the point? The jailer sighed. It was not for him to say. He brought up the website, began to type. It was a long slow process, he did not type well. "Poor bastard." He muttered. +++ A few days later, the jailer reached up and wiped a tear from his eye, reread what he had transferred to the website. The spellcheck program had corrected most of the errors, he thought. He touched the button that read, "submit." "Poor bastard", he muttered again to himself. Footsteps He could only imagine what she must be thinking at this hour, as he finally comes home from another long day away from her. Late. Late again. Late as always. Late. As the door creaked open, as one foot followed the other past the door, those words echoed in his mind. She never said them out loud, not once, but he knew they were there, in her mind, in her heart. Just not on her tongue. There was no evil behind any of this, no betrayal; just the simple fact that having a nice home, and a wife who stayed in it to care for the kids, meant he couldn't take much time to enjoy all of it. Whatever happiness he could have with them, he gave up for them. His greatest fear was always that by the time he could finally rest and enjoy it all, it might not all be there anymore. He crept up the stairs, skipping over those spots he had long ago learned creak and groan under his weight; a strange ballet in the darkness. He passed the twins' room first, seeing that his little girl had gotten scared and crept into her brother's bed again. Or was it the other way around? He closed the door behind him, and turned towards his room. Towards their bed. He crept slower than ever, hoping that for once he might be able to creep in without disturbing her sleep. Just once, he'd like to lie down beside her and close his eyes and not feel her turning around and looking into his eyes again. Just once, he didn't want to feel guilty. She didn't even do it on purpose; she simply had to look at him with those eyes, those eyes that always caught him off-guard no matter how prepared he thought he was. Locking the door behind him, he slipped off his shoes, his aching feet instantly thanking him, and slipped in beside her. There was no energy left to unbuckle his belt, to unzip his pants and slide them off his legs. Not now. Not at this hour. He just laid down and closed his eyes... Footsteps I suppose I should tell you about the footsteps. I've been hearing them for a few years now, off and on. At first it kind of drove me nuts trying to figure out where they were coming from, but now I've gotten to the point where I pretty much ignore them. I don't think the house is haunted or anything, but if you're...you know. Sensitive about that stuff. Then you should probably know that you'll hear footsteps sometimes. I'd say they started around the time Ryan moved out. Well, I say 'moved out', but I really don't know what happened to him. Sorry, that sounds melodramatic and weird when I say it out loud. I'm probably creeping you out, what with the footsteps and the disappearing roommates. It's not really that strange when I sit down and explain it, I promise. Ryan was my last roommate. No, you never met him. He moved out before I met you. He was a co-worker of mine, he needed a place and I was looking for someone to help me make rent on this place because my first roommate was moving in with her boyfriend, and it just kind of worked out, you know? I wasn't crazy about having a guy roommate at first, but he and I had a long talk about it to clear the air really early on, and it was smooth sailing after that. We got pretty comfortable with each other-he was really a nice guy, the kind you could really relax around-but it was never, y'know, romantic. He was just easy to talk to, you know? But then he changed jobs to something that involved a lot of travel, and so I wound up seeing less and less of him. Most of the time he wouldn't get home until I was too sleepy to do anything more than chat for a few minutes before I started nodding off on the couch, and he was usually gone when I got up in the morning. After a few months, I wound up having the house to myself a lot, which was actually pretty nice because- Um...okay, look. We've known each other for a while, right? You don't get weirded out easy, right? I just...I kind of feel like I should mention this now, like the footsteps, because if there's something about all this that makes you want to back out we should probably know before you sign your name to a lease. I mean, it's just us girls and all, but I don't want you to be surprised if you come home unexpectedly and I'm... I like having the house to myself, is what I'm saying. Like, I really like it. Maybe it's because we lived in a really small house growing up and I went straight from there to the college dorms and I went straight from that to having a roommate, but something about knowing I've got complete privacy really makes me want to, well, use it. You know what I mean, right? It's like, I'm sitting all by myself on the couch in the living room with nothing particular to do for a while, and it suddenly hits me that nobody can see me. Nobody's watching me. I can do anything I want. So I take off my clothes, because it seems kind of silly to wear all that uncomfortable stuff when there's nobody around to see me naked. And then I'm all alone, and I'm naked, and it just feels really natural to, um, explore. You know, just kind of let my fingers wander and see what feels good. And then before I know it, I'm getting all hot and bothered and there's only one way to take care of it, and I wind up frigging myself until I can barely see straight. That's not...weird, is it? Oh thank god I'm not the only one who feels that way. I mean, I'm not an exhibitionist or anything like that. It wasn't until Ryan got his job and I had the house all to myself that I even realized I...enjoyed it so much. It was just really liberating, realizing that I could do anything I wanted to and nobody would see me. It kind of got my motor running in a way I never knew it could; I'd get home from work, and as soon as I walked in the door and didn't see Ryan there, bang! Off went the clothes and in went the fingers. For two, three hours sometimes. But I want you to know, I wouldn't do anything like that in front of you-like I said, I'm not an exhibitionist. And we're not like...um, like that. With each other, I mean. Not that, you know, you're ugly or anything, but I've never been with another girl, and, um...anyway, I just wanted you to know in case you walked in and I was flicking the bean on the living room couch or something, so that you wouldn't think I was some sort of perv. Because I'm not. I mean, I'm a healthy girl, I like to experiment a little, but I'm not doing anything I wouldn't do in the bedroom-it's just that as long as I have a whole house to do it in, there's something kind of exciting about playing with myself in the living room. Or the kitchen. Or, um...I'm getting sidetracked, aren't I? Right, so Ryan. No, I'm sure you never met him. At least not here, maybe you knew him from someplace else. The point is, Ryan never walked in on me, um...having fun. He was always away. And then one day it just sort of hit me that I hadn't seen him in weeks. His stuff was all there, but the house just kind of had a different feel to it. An empty feel. I suddenly had this really powerful intuition that he wasn't there anymore. Not just as in "right now", but I felt a total conviction that he wasn't coming back. I can't even describe it. I've never felt more certain about anything in my life. And I have to admit, I kind of got a little carried away with it. Like I say, I'm not a perv, but there's a lot of ground to cover before you get to the sick shit, you know? I stopped even wearing clothes when I was home alone-like, when I invited you over to talk about moving in? I had to remind myself to put something on before you got here. As in literally walk by a mirror and say to myself out loud, "Oh, right! I'm still naked!" And I also had to kind of make a pass through the house and make sure I... Okay, look. Sometimes there are things you can't do with fingers. Like, if I'm diddling my clit and I suddenly feel like I need a little something up my ass, it's a total buzzkill to do the little contortionist act to get my pinkie up in there. Or if I want to play with my tits, but my pussy needs some attention too? Yeah, I can see it on your face. You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's okay, there's no need to be shy. It's just us girls, right? So I was getting hot and heavy a lot. All the time. Every night, soon as I got home, I was soaking my panties before I even got to the door and pulling them off as soon as I got inside. I had some toys-they're cleaned up right now, but I'd leave them all over the house, just in case I had a little urge while I was doing laundry or taking a shower. Looking back, I did kind of go sex-crazy, but I think it was just that I was repressing all that for so long that when I finally had the chance to let it out, it was just...KA-POW! And it was great. I never thought I could cum that many times. But every once in a while, I'd hear footsteps in the house. Like I said, I knew I was home alone; Ryan had been gone for months by then, and the nearest neighbor is about a quarter-mile down the road. But every once in a while, I'd hear these footsteps. Sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes coming from Ryan's old room, sometimes in the living room or the laundry room. But whenever I went to see what was going on, I'd always walk in and the room would be totally empty. And the crazy thing is, as soon as I looked into the room, the footsteps would stop. I'd go from being absolutely sure I heard them to being absolutely sure they weren't there, right on a dime. Well, I was a little freaked, yeah. But as soon as I checked on the room I thought they were coming from and saw that it was empty, I'd relax again. In fact, it was kind of a turn-on; I'd walk into the room, whichever one it was, and I'd be like, "Oh! I guess I really am alone! Well, if I'm alone, I know what I can do to myself," and I'd spread my legs as wide as I could and spread my snatch as wide as I could and start just going to town on myself. Big moans, sloppy squishing sounds, a whole porno performance to an empty room. It got me so turned on, knowing nobody at all was watching me, that it was like I couldn't help myself. I had to fuck myself. Oh, man, you wouldn't even believe how good it felt. Like, I was dripping, you know? And I'd grab one of my toys-there was always one around, and lube too, and I'd be bouncing up and down on it, grabbing my tits and saying, "You like that? Does that turn you on?" Like I was talking to the ghost that made the footsteps, or something. I kind of get vocal when I'm home alone and playing with myself. It's just a habit, I guess. Oh, you do too? Glad to know I'm not the only one. Wow, it's like we're kinky sex twins or something! And I probably could have gone on like that forever. I haven't had to worry about money; Ryan moved out without a forwarding address or anything, so I don't feel guilty about taking the cash he left behind out of the rent kitty in the living room. I couldn't return it to him anyway, right? Yeah, whatever he did for a living after he changed jobs must have paid pretty good, because it's been two years since he vanished and that kitty hasn't been empty since. No, I don't remember. He just said he wouldn't be here, and so I would be able to relax and...and I would be relaxed, and peaceful, and...and that would make me happy...I would be happy to...um...shoot, lost it. Sorry, what were we talking about? Yeah, it probably wasn't important anyway. The important thing is that even though I don't need a roommate for money reasons, I am starting to get a little lonely. That was why I started inviting you over. Oh, come on. What do you mean, you don't remember? You've been here, like, a dozen times. That was why I decided to ask you to move in, because you're so comfortable here. You're always so relaxed here that I know you want to do whatever feels natural. We both do. It's so easy... Um. Anyway, seriously, I think you'll have a blast. Cheap rent, a big house to ourselves, and a best friend you feel totally comfortable around. There's just the weird thing about the footsteps, and so long as that doesn't bother you, I think we're going to have the best time together! What do you say, huh? Want to give it a try? You will? Awesome! We'll stop by the rental office tomorrow and sign the papers. In the meantime, if you want, you can stay here tonight. We can watch a movie together, hang out, and, um...you know. Whatever we want. Together. You can go ahead and take your clothes off if you want. After all, it's just us girls. THE END