7 comments/ 15975 views/ 0 favorites Simplicity By: Sirens Bane Simplicity (or, Act II of II) In which a crime is committed, old friends are found, New love appears, and tragedies abound. I was, as the popular films and movies would put it, on the run from the law. Wanted for the murder of my ex-fiancee, and the attempted murder of my brother, I was in considerable trouble. At first, I was, to say the least, disconcerted by that state, but it really didn’t hinder me as much as it would hinder most people. For quite some time, I had been living as a street musician. It isn’t that difficult to keep myself of the proverbial radar. You see, I didn’t have much long-term contact with anyone, and I almost never used banks, ATM cards, credit cards, or anything like that. Despite the fact that I was worth around fifteen million dollars, I lived a relatively simple life. No house, no income tax, no property tax, nothing like that. As a result, ironically, it had proving remarkably hard for the any of the police forces to track me down. As you may (or may not) know, I am the man that fortune has played with, a man who has lost everything to his brother, time and time again, and finally, three years ago, lost my fiancée, the only woman I have ever loved, to him. You may not, however, know the circumstances under which all of this happened, so I’ll give you a bit of background, here. Elizabeth Rose Connosint and I were engaged. Both fresh out of college, both virgins, both filthy rich. Then, she decided that she was going to stay with her parents for a few months before the wedding, try and talk them over to accepting me. Now, some people may blame me for not going with her. But, I looked at the facts, which were: a) I didn’t particularly like England, where they lived, b) her parents didn’t like me, and I wouldn’t get to see Elizabeth very often, and c) my brother, Tod, lived there, and I didn’t get along with him very well. So, I left to wander, as I do tend to have a desire to wander, to travel. So, while Elizabeth was over in England fucking my brother like a madwoman while swearing to me her undying love and devotion and celibacy, I was fending off the advances of high-school aged virgins, video-taping a middle-aged and very much in love couple at their last night together for awhile, partying with a homosexual couple (and that’s still one of the best damn parties I have ever been to), and saving the life and questionable virtue of an FBI agent (who predicted Elizabeth’s infidelity and had one of the best voices I’ve ever heard). I didn’t believe her prediction, however, until I returned home to find Elizabeth on all fours in MY bed, taking it from behind, telling my brother that it was fine if he came inside her, since it would probably look like mine anyway. I left, didn’t listen to her arguments. It wasn’t so much a matter of love, because I still felt very strongly about her, as it was a matter of trust. I didn’t trust her anymore, and wasn’t sure if I ever could again. I ended up going back to my wandering, leaving Elizabeth to find out just how much of an asshole Tod really was. See, Tod doesn’t let his whores use protection. Ever. So, as to my most recent predicament: about a year ago, I got a call. For the first time in just under two years, I heard the voice of Elizabeth Rose Connosint, and it sounded sweet, like honey to a bee. Not as nice as Megan’s (the FBI agent), but I had never loved Megan. Maybe, I figured, maybe she was going to apologize. I had had no contact with her and Tod; maybe she had broken it off with him, decided to give me time. Her first words to me dashed that hope, however. Tearfully, her voice full of sadness, she said, “I’m pregnant.” I stared at the wall of my hosts in silence. They were all out together at a movie, leaving me to prepare for my evening entertaining the town. I had a cell phone then (though I have gotten rid of it since then. Cell phones, I have discovered, restrict a great deal of one’s freedom), and so it was easy for her to call me. “And?” I asked gently. I honestly didn’t know what she wanted of me. “And I want you to come back,” she said. “I miss you,” her voice was seductive, sweet, cajoling. It was no longer the honeyed innocence I had loved, but the voice of one practiced at seduction, one who would do what she felt because she felt like it, without thought to others. It was selfish, lewd, and lascivious. It was, in effect, the voice of a complete and utter stranger. I hung up, and I went on with my preparations. The playing that night, at a small park, was moody and sad. The audience, as it always is for me, was rapt with attention. However, instead of the jubilance and excitement of my normal playing, they listened with tears in their eyes, each lost in their own private sadnesses. It was my mourning time. A chance gone, a love lost, and era that finally died. I felt remarkably freed of any binding she may have had over me, yet I could not help but wonder: What if? Would she have cheated on me if I had gone to England? Even if she hadn’t, chances are that if she was willing to cheat then, she would have sooner or later. Maybe I had been fortunate. I didn’t feel fortunate, though. I felt lonely. Surrounded by people who enjoyed my company and respected me (to a point), and I felt then to be the loneliest person ever. Odysseus had faithful Penelope to wait for him during his quest. Twenty years she waited. However, my quest was aimless, as I was, and no reward awaited me, no love. I cut the music off around midnight, as I saw tear-streaked faces nodding off to sleep. I walked back to the house of my hosts, my mind a mess. I listened to empty voices mutter sleepy congratulations, and I eventually nodded off to sleep. I left the next day. I had lost all desire to stay there any longer. I could hardly remember where there was. All I knew was that wherever there was, it was bad. I thought I could outrun my mood, as I had outrun my life, and my problems, my hatreds and my jealousies. I couldn’t outrun anything. It was all coming to roost. I actually did get a motel room, this time. For the first time in my life, I was in no mood to play my music, to spread it like a salve over the wounded souls of the people I met. Who was healing my soul? Where was my salve? For three days and three nights, I wallowed in my own little pit of despair. I went through all the doubts I had spent much of my life going through. Did anyone in the whole world love me? If I died, would anyone care? Would anyone even notice? If I were a bit less depressed, if I though anyone would care, I may have committed suicide right then and there. However, I knew that I wouldn’t be missed. I would just have to trudge on, meaninglessly marching from day to day like so many people of the world who are missing so many pieces of their soul. My soul wasn’t missing any pieces. I just never really got to give them out. I left the motel the next day, and started a long, lonely walk down the highway, heading north and heading nowhere at all. I stopped at a bar that night. I didn’t drink, and never have, though I was sorely tempted, for the first time in my life. It is a good thing, a very good thing, that I didn’t drink, however. I merely sat there, drinking water and generally fitting in with the gloomy atmosphere. I caught snatches of conversation here and there. One man’s wife was pregnant with his best friend’s child. He had walked in on them as they were fucking up against a wall, her round, full ass in his hands. The man was drunk enough to be quite explicit on what happened. His friend, a relatively large ex-marine, had had his pretty young wife of five months up against the wall, fucking her hard and fast. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to think this was the first time. He had left without making himself known, however, and his wife had come up to him a few weeks later and told him that she was pregnant. He knew it wasn’t his. The chance of him fathering a child was extremely unlikely, though he hadn’t yet told her that. A visit to the doctor confirmed it. However, he couldn’t act for fear that his ex-friend, the ex-marine, would beat the hell out of him. He was living in hell, knowing that his wife was fucking around on him, knowing that he couldn’t do anything about it. A few people down on the other side of me, a man was telling a similar story, but cheerfully, and from the cheating end. He was a figure to be both pitied and held very deeply in contempt. While his wife waited faithfully for him at home, never taking her own lovers, like many are apt to do, he was bending his secretary over his desk at the office, fucking her hard and fast while he was on the phone with his wife. I wanted so very badly to punch him in the face. I didn’t, though. He reminded me too much of my brother. So, I was sitting there, both hating and sympathizing with my fellow patrons, when all of the sudden, I see my face on the television. Nobody was watching the television, so I was lucky, for the subtitles read that I was wanted for the murder of my former fiancée, Elizabeth, and her unborn baby. I watched in horror as every detail of the affair was dragged into the light of day. Each gruesome detail, each horrible memory, they were all retold to all of America, right before my eyes. Hell, there were details that even I didn’t know. I was the last person she had talked to. Unfortunately, they had no idea where I was. I doubted I could get the town to support me; they didn’t know me that well. I had a bunch of witnesses, and none of them would be likely to step up to the plate for me. I don’t even know the name of the town I was in. I made my way slowly out of the bar, and one thought penetrated my skull: I was in trouble. I knew I was innocent. I was pretty sure that my innocence would stand up to the test. I decided to go back home. However, as I made my way closer and closer, I realized that my innocence would not stand up. I had been, as they say, tried by the media. They had gotten wind of the story, and I was already guilty. There was no evidence there, linking me to the scene of the crime. The motive was weak (and almost two years old). There were no witnesses there. I guess I pulled off the perfect crime, despite my complete and utter lack of experience in murder. My mind was made up when I heard that a reward was being offered for my capture by Elizabeth’s parents. Those assholes! They knew I would never hurt her, despite what she had done to me, and still they believed me guilty. I turned right around. Elizabeth’s house, the center for the investigations, was about twenty miles out from Detroit. I turned around, immediately, and started heading in the opposite direction. I hadn’t been to Ohio for years, so I decided to go there. I did, after all, have one friend there who could hide me. When I had gone on my journey, a couple years back, my first stop had been with a small town. My last night there ended with me running from my life from an angry father who thought I had slept with his daughter (which I hadn’t). However, the girl had stayed in my room all night, talking with me. I learned that she was going to Denison, a liberal arts college in central Ohio. There was no connection between me and her at all. No paper trail led back to her, no witnesses who knew who I was knew who she was. There was nothing. For a time, at least, I would be safe. It took me three weeks of walking and hitch-hiking to reach the school, but reach it I did! I was, for a goodly amount of time, safe. A few questions, and a little charm, won me the dorm building and number of Elizabeth. I walked into the dorm, realizing with a jolt that it had been two years since I had been on a college campus. A lot had happened, but maybe I would enjoy myself. I had, most fortuitously, arrived during a party time, so I could blend in without having to take care of any uncomfortable questions. It took me a few hours (hours filled with pizza, Pepsi, and music), but I finally got tired of waiting for Liz. Finally, I broke out my guitar, and started to play for everyone. They all turned the music down, way down, and finally, after fifteen minutes of playing, completely off. I let the music go where it would, leading me from cheerful melodies to soothing ones. The students loved it. I played for nearly two hours, until one-thirty in the morning. Finally, most of the people had fallen asleep. I found one of the drowsy ones. “Excuse me,” I said, polite as could be, “but could you tell me where I can find a girl who lives in this dorm named Elizabeth Grayla.” The young man, who I had assumed was merely sleepy, opened his eyes. I quickly revised my opinion. He wasn’t tired; he was stoned out of his mind. He pointed vaguely down the hall. “Closed door,” he mumbled, giggling a little. Oh yeah, he was completely out of it. “Sixth on the right.” I thanked him politely, impressed that he had managed to process that much information through his stoned little head. I quickly walked down the hall, counting the doors to make sure I got the right one. Surprisingly enough, he had been right. The sixth door on the right was the only one fully closed at that time. I thought that I could hear noises coming from inside, but I couldn’t be sure. The sounds, if they were there, were extremely muffled, almost nonexistent. I figured that Liz must have been sick, and was probably watching television. I was slightly wrong, to say the least. I opened the door without knocking, wanting to greet her with a hug. Instead, I found her on her hands and knees on her bed, one guy, a blonde young man who hadn’t even bothered to undress, but had just unzipped and gone at it, as pumping into her from behind, hard and fast. I was rather surprised to see where the thick cock was planted, however, as it seemed to be moving with speed in and out of her pretty little asshole. His hard shaft was planted in her butt, and her pert ass cheeks jiggled a bit with the impact he made with each hard thrust. I could see, as I stood in the doorway in astonishment, dried cum all over her back, in her hair, and on her firm, shaking tits. Her face was slightly obscured as well, and another cock, not quite so thick, was jammed between her plump red lips. A few streaks of cum adorned her face. I finally snapped out of my trance, just in time to see both young men pull out and shower her with cum. I promptly left, but, on my way out, I saw her looking right at me. I returned to her room two hours later. The smell of sex was gone. Liz was showered, her damp hair slicked back behind her ears. She looked very vulnerable, sitting there on the bed. For some reason, I pitied her, though I couldn’t say why. It must have shown in my eyes, however, as she burst out in tears, and began to fall. I sat quickly on the bed and caught her. I held her against my chest as she cried, sobbing out whatever she needed to get out. I could feel her tears begin to work through my shirt, making a damp stain on the front of it, but I just held her and rocked her gently, whispering softly in her ear. After thirty minutes, the deluge slowed, then finally stopped altogether. Slowly, she raised her head. Her eyes were red and puffy, and I could see that her plump red lips were trembling. I looked her in the eyes. “Why did you do it, if you hate yourself for it so much?” I asked her. I could see she was restraining more tears. “I was so lonely,” she said haltingly, brokenly. I nodded for her to go on, already understanding. There are assholes everywhere, and she had been easy prey. “I didn’t have any friends,” she told me, barely getting the words out. I handed her my handkerchief. She nodded her thanks. Squaring her shoulders, she started over. “When I first got here, it seemed like heaven. For the first time in my life, I was free. No parents, no teachers hanging over my shoulder. I was allowed to just be me. “However, I found out that just being me didn’t seem to be making me many friends. And, I started getting lonely. It seemed like everyone around me was having fun, and I was being left out. “For the first year, I was just fine with it. School work kept me busier than I had thought it would. This year, however, I was ready for it. No matter how much I stalled, I had a great many lonely hours. Then, I met this boy. Oh, he was handsome. Tight end on the football team, as a matter of fact. He started showing interest in me! Me!” She broke off her dialogue a little to laugh. It wasn’t the carefree laugh I remembered, but was a good bit more cynical. “I was, of course, thrilled. He was so romantic. For some reason, I never felt wholly comfortable around him, but I was too busy not being lonely to really think. My grades started to drop a little, I started alienating the few friends I did have in favor of the ‘in’ crowd. My best friend, Lauren Elosta, was furious with me. We had this huge fight about a month ago, and I ran, of course, to Ryan. “He was so sweet, so comforting. He made all the pretty little noises that one generally makes when one isn’t paying any attention to what someone else was saying, but I took them as comforting. Slowly, I felt his hand caress my breast. He was rubbing it softly, through my shirt and my bra. I felt my nipple slowly stiffen at his touch, and so did he. He must have been grinning like a madman as he began to pull my shirt over my head. “Finally free of the shirt, he began to kiss my neck. I moaned, remembering how your kisses felt, before you stopped. His hands worked my bra off me before I even knew what was happening. “Oh, the feel of his hands on my naked breasts! He worked them like a master sculptor might work clay, with skill and ease. His lips moved lower, slowly, until I finally felt his lips on my breasts. I gasped in pleasure, astonished at the feeling as his tongue slowly circled my stiff nipple, moving from one breast to another. I felt his hand slide down beneath my panties, but I was too wrapped up in the sensation of his lips on my breasts to care. I could only gasp out a swift, ‘No, please don’t!’ before sensation swallowed my body. “The sound I made when he first started to caress my clit can be classified between a moan, a gasp, and a yelp, and a plead to stop. I started wiggling my hips, trying both to escape his unfamiliar touch, and trying even more desperately to get more of him inside of me. ‘Please, stop,’ I begged him. I writhed beneath his touch as he worked my panties off my hips, then down to my ankles. My skirt was bunched up around my waist, and his finger was beginning to glisten with my juices. ‘No!’ I said. I tried desperately to push him off. ‘No!’ I cried, louder this time. “Stop!” He slapped me, then pinned me to the bed. “Finally, the moment came. His lips touched mine. I could feel my damp nipples against his chest, as he lay atop me. My usually pert breasts were being pressed down as I felt a thick cockhead press against my virginal vaginal lips. I felt it slide inside of me, slowly. “I cried out, ‘No, I’m a virgin!’ He just laughed and thrust in as hard as he could. “My gasp was not in pleasure as my hymen was ruptured. I could feel my virgin blood trickle out of me, slowly staining the bed sheets as he pumped hard and fast into me. “I tried to push him off, but couldn’t. I could feel his thick cock slice in and out of me. I could feel him speeding up. ‘Please,’ I cried, ‘please don’t cum inside of me.’ I knew that I could get pregnant. “He, of course, just ignored me completely. He kept thrusting, until finally he began to shudder above me, grunting and squealing like a stuck pig. I felt his thick cock pulse inside of me, and felt his seed spurt into me. “Finally dislodging him, I ran out of the frat house and back to my dorm. I closed the door and cried myself to sleep. The next day, I made my way to my first class. I didn’t notice the snide looks I was getting. Until after first period, that is, and I was downright told what a stupid whore I was. Simplicity “You see, it had been a frat game. There was a video playing in the frat house, a video titled “Liz’s First Mounting”. It was playing over and over again, and anyone who wanted to could see my deflowering. More than that, the sheet bearing my virgin blood was hung on the wall above the television, my name written in black marker under the stain. “I was ruined. Nobody wanted to talk to me. I found, eventually, that at least sex could get me come company. I didn’t have anything to lose, not after that, and I was so desperately lonely. I took what comfort I could.” She looked me in the eyes. “I just never thought that anyone I cared about would find out.” She started to cry again. We fell asleep like that, holding one another, on her bed. The next day, I woke alone. You see, I had some planning to do. Two things, really. First and foremost: help heal Liz. Of slightly less importance, but just as much fun: find some way to get revenge on Ryan. Normally, I’m not all for revenge. However, anyone who could so callously take a girl’s virginity, then destroy her without a second thought deserved what was coming to him. I couldn’t revenge myself on Tod, because I just didn’t care enough, but Liz was an innocent, and a friend, and I wanted to help her. She would be gone most of the day, I knew, and I had to help her. First, I walked around campus, asking people if they knew where I could find that Lauren girl she had mentioned. It took me just under three hours, but I did find her. She was in her dorm room, recovering from a slight hangover. She had gotten a reputation as something of an alcoholic after her fight with Liz. I woke her, as she was still quite drowsy. “Lauren?” I asked. At her slow nod, I threw a cup of water in her face. She sputtered as she spat out some of the water that had gotten in her mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are and what the fuck are you doing here?” she practically shrieked. I smiled and closed the door. “I want to talk to you about Elizabeth Grayla,” I said softly. I could feel her eyes harden, and I could practically sense her desperation for a drink. I was pretty sure that Liz hadn’t been completely honest with me. “Why?” Lauren asked bitterly. “Did she give you some sort of disease?” “I understand you and her were friends,” I commented, ignoring her small outburst. Lauren gave a bitter laugh. “Friends? Yeah, we were that. We also fucked nightly, but I doubt you’ll get her to admit it.” I hid a smile. Yes, this would work. “Why did you two break it off?” I asked. I knew the answer; Liz had told me without knowing it. A cynical snort came from Lauren. “She wanted to fit in,” she said. Another bitter laugh spilled from her lips. “Well, she certainly is fitting in…in a way.” I smiled and pulled Lauren to her feet. “Lauren,” I said. “I’m going to need your help.” My next stop, of course, was to Ryan’s frat house. I got the directions there from Lauren, who was in complete favor of my plan. I found Ryan laughing with a few of his buddies. The were pinning another bedsheet next to Liz’s, one that bore the name Mariana Lopez, and Liz’s video was now being played in between the video of a pretty, dark skinned Latino woman. The woman looked to be almost thirty, however, and was probably someone who worked at the campus. I noticed the engagement ring on her hand as she was pinned down and had a load shot all over the lovely ring. “Excuse me,” I said to the young man. “Are you the enterprising young star I’ve been hearing so many whispers about?” I asked, flashing him a shit-eating grin. “Depends on whose asking,” the young fool replied, smirking to his friends. My smile became a little more confident. “I represent a certain company who has…interests, I guess you could say, in your videos. I was wondering if you could make a couple copies of those videos for me to pass along.” Ryan’s smile was wary. “And what’s in it for me?” he asked. He was so mine. “Well, for each video that’s approved, you’ll get four thousand dollars, plus 5% of all sales from the videos.” His jaw dropped. “Wait,” he said, “you mean you guys will pay me to rape chicks?” he asked. Oh yeah, he was mine. I smiled at him, and threw on a pair of sunglasses. “Oh, trust me, you will be paid in full,” I said, smiling slightly as they high-fived and went to make copies of the tapes. My next stop was a lawyer who was probably the most expensive in the state. I showed him the videos, and his jaw dropped. Then I played the tape recording I had made of my conversation with Ryan. “So, are these enough to file for rape?” “Well,” the lawyer said, still somewhat in awe at the young man’s stupidity, “between the tears, the obvious protestations, the slapping and punching, the degradation, the obvious target preference, and a recording of him admitting to rape, I’d say you have a case.” I smiled again. “Excellent. I reached the campus around dinner time, and went to Liz’s room. I needed to look in on her, see how she was doing. I reached the room, and heard voices. Opening the door slightly, I heard her and Lauren talking. “…loved you,” Lauren stormed, tears flowing down her face. “Why did you have to do that to me?” she asked desperately. “Why?” “I loved you, too,” Liz cried. “But I needed friends! I couldn’t be with you 24-7! I needed some people I could hang out with. Some people who would talk to me, instead of shunning me like they did when I was with you!” I saw Lauren embrace Liz. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “I could have introduced you to some people. We could have gone to parties. Why didn’t you tell me when you were lonely?” Liz, tears streaking her lovely young face, kissed Lauren’s plump red lips softly, lovingly. “Are you willing to give me a second chance?” she asked. Lauren nodded, and pulled Liz in for another kiss. “Always,” she said softly, as the kiss broke. Liz reached for the knot in front of her robe, and loosened it. The robe dropped to the ground, revealing a milky white body, with long legs and pert breasts, tipped with rosy nipples that were hard as pebbles. I could see the look of reverence on Lauren’s face. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, pulling the now-nude Liz in for a kiss. I smiled and closed the door softly. This was not a moment that I should intrude upon. I left them to their games. I convinced both Mariana and Liz to file for rape. A few other girls came forward, then, and Ryan was soon in prison, where he would be getting a taste of his own medicine for a good long time. I retired to Liz’s room, where I was sleeping while she was staying with Lauren. The phone rang. I had long since started taking messages for Lauren and Liz, so I picked up the phone. A musical voice rang over the end. “Get out of their. They are coming for you.” A swarm of thoughts raced through my head. The one that won was: “Megan?” I couldn’t believe she was calling. And who was coming for me? Oh, fuck. I verbalized that statement. A laugh emerged from the receiver. “I see you understand,” Megan said. “Meet me in a small suburb off of Lake Erie called Rocky River. There is a park, Elmwood Park. Meet me there.” She hung up. I packed my bags quickly and got out of there. Why, you ask? Well, let’s see…Megan’s an FBI agent. I could safely assume that someone in the government knew where I was, and my case had, for some reason, become of great interest. Yeah, I know. Oh, fuck. So, a month later, I arrived at Elmwood Park. I laid down on a park bench there, and I went to sleep. To be honest, I thought I was having a nightmare. I could feel a giant hand on my shoulder. “Wake up, little brother.” It was Tod’s voice. I hated Tod. Why was Tod there? I opened my eyes to see Tod, his arm possessively around Megan’s waist. I could see his hand groping at her firm ass through the tight shorts she was wearing. No. I was not spending another minute in Tod’s company. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him. I saw him shoot a scared glance at Megan. It was she who answered, in her musical voice, “What are you talking about, brother?” she inquired, looking brightly around her. “We were out taking a walk, when we noticed you. We had been wondering where you were.” Completely baffled, I let them lead me to a small house on Beachcliffe. As soon as we got back in the house, Megan pushed Tod away. His grin died. “If you ever pull that kind of shit again, ever, I will end you,” she stated coldly, flashing the gun under her jacket. “Yes, ma’am,” my brother said, swallowing deeply. Oh, yeah. He was scared of her. I watched this play out with fascination. “Does anyone want to explain this to me?” I asked plaintively. Ok, I’ll sum it up for you: my brother, Tod, was running short on his money (again). He had thought that he could gamble a bit, win some of it back. I never claimed he was overly intelligent. Anyway, he got in debt. Deeply, deeply in debt. They (the casino owners who had some partners whose names I do not wish to speak aloud) threatened him, but he just laughed it off. Apparently, brother dearest didn’t believe that the rich would be subjected to the same treatment as the common and the poor. To prove him wrong, some people decided to kill someone close to him. You guessed it: Elizabeth. The guy got sloppy, however. The killing was noticed almost immediately. In an extreme stroke of bad luck, the murder happened within an hour after my cell phone call from her. Hearing about the story, they decided to use that. They had their guy high up in the FBI (whose identity, thanks to this, Megan now knew) leak my name and story to the press. They latched onto it. It was perfect. The vengeful lover returns to slay the cheating fiancée who had realized what a bad person he was, and had fallen in love with his noble brother. All wrong, of course, but since when has that stopped the media? However, they hadn’t been able to find me. No real way of tracking me. However, they soon realized that they did have a report on me, the one Megan made after I saved her. It also contained all my exploits from before I met her, as I had told her my story. Eventually, they were able to track Elizabeth Grayla to her college, and were able to surmise, from the minor publicity I had gotten from helping Liz and Mariana with the rapes, that I was there. Megan, however, had realized almost immediately that I wasn’t guilty. She knew me too well, considering we had only known each other for about six hours. She did some investigating of her own, and tracked down my brother, helping him get into hiding with her. Together, they had been posing here as a married couple waiting for their brother (me) to arrive for his visit. And I had. As I was on the stairs, I heard a sound coming from the lips of my two reluctant roommates I had never expected to hear them share. I heard them laughing. The laughter was strong, almost unwilling. Curious as to what it is, I walked into the room. I saw them staring at the TV, cracking up. “What’s so funny?” I asked. They stopped laughing and put the DVD back to the beginning, before I could see what it was. Megan wiped a tear from her eyes. “Oh, God, you’ve gotta see this,” she said, before bursting out into laughter. “We found it in your bag!” Tod slapped me on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you had it in you, little brother,” he said, then he and Megan started laughing again. I looked at the screen, as Megan had just hit play. It was completely black, but then Lauren’s dorm room came up on the screen. What the hell? Liz was standing there, wearing a robe. She was looking at the screen. “We know,” she said, smiling slightly, “that you wouldn’t have accepted sex as thanks. That’s alright; I wouldn’t give it anymore, and I certainly wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it for me. So, we put together a little gift for you. You know, for fond remembrances, and all that.” With that, Liz blew a kiss at the screen. She untied the knot at the front of her robe, and it dropped to the ground, revealing again that glorious expanse of milky white flesh. I felt myself get hard as I watched Lauren come on screen, already nude, her tanned skin contrasting with the white skin of Liz as the embraced, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths as lips met in a passionate embrace. I could feel myself get hard. I crossed my legs, but I knew that both Megan and Tod had noticed, and were both practically giggling in delight as the images on the screen heated up. I saw the lips of Lauren move slowly down Liz’s body, closing over her pert tits. Liz let loose a passionate moan. Suddenly, a new figure came on screen. “This is one video I’ll be glad to share with my husband,” Mariana said. “Thanks, sweetie,” she said, blowing me a kiss, and prompting more gales of laughter from both Megan and Tod. Lauren had moved back up, and was passionately kissing Liz once more. Mariana, a lovely latino woman with large, bouncy breasts and raven black hair, moved her head slowly down Lauren’s back. She licked her ass cheeks, then slipper her head under Lauren, and began to lick the pussies of both Lauren and Liz, who had begun to grind into each other, their firm breasts smashing against one another as their tongues fought furiously inside their mouths. I could see both Lauren and Liz begin to writhe, lithe bodies wavering slightly as their kiss broke off and both women began to moan in pleasure. I was so distracted by the video, I didn’t notice Tod get up. “Take care of her, little brother. And I’m sorry,” he added, then left the room. The moans of the women faded into the background. My brother just apologized. My brother. And what did he mean, “Take care of her”? My train of thought was interrupted with a hand on my thigh. As the background moaning continued, I slowly turned my head to Megan. I found her eyes, a beautiful green, staring into mine. “Megan…” I started, but was unable to finish, as she put a finger over my lips and hushed me. She pressed her lips to mine, softly, passionately, and I could felt he tip of her tongue pressed against my lips. I met her tongue with my own, and we kissed. Slowly, I pushed her back onto her back on the couch. Eagerly, she began to push her black sweatpants down. She wasn’t wearing any panties. I moved down and began to kiss her neck as her fingers worked desperately at the zipper of my pants. I heard it lower slowly, and by then I had her sweatshirt off, and was taking her stiff nipples into my mouth, caressing them as gently as I could. I heard her moan as my pants came off, and I tore my lips from her firm breasts. I began kissing my way down her stomach, my tongue caressing her flesh, which was somehow both velvet soft and strong as stone. Finally, I made my way down to her pussy. Planting a big, smacking kiss right on her lower lips (and making her giggle delightfully in the process), I then proceeded to start tonguing her clit, licking it, nibbling on it, doing whatever I could to bring her pleasure. I loved to hear her musical voice cry out in rapture above me, as I ate her to two orgasms. Finally, she pulled me up. “I’ve never done this before,” I told her shyly. She shushed me. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll teach you whatever you need to know. I entered her slowly, sinking all six inches of my manhood into her soaking vagina. I could hear her slow, melodious moan as I sank into her. Slowly, I pulled out, pulling her close to me and catching her moans in my mouth as we embraced. The feeling! Oh, it was like a silk glove pulsating around me, as I slid gently in and out of my musical lady. I pulled my mouth from hers, and buried my head in her bosom, freeing her magnificent voice to moan her pleasure to the world as I made slow, passionate love to her. Finally, I felt her tighten around me. She began to moan louder, panting slightly as I began to rock faster inside of her. I was about to pull out, when she whispered softly in my ear, “Please, cum inside of me.” She then proceeded to explode into orgasm. Feeling her tighten so fully around my cock, I was unable to hold back any longer. Groaning out her name, I came inside of her. We lay on the couch together, my cock still buried inside her, and whispered and laughed until we both fell asleep. I woke the next day, full of passion and energy. I was no longer a virgin! Despite the lack of marriage, or even genuine love, we shared a deep respect and a genuine fondness for one another. It was enough for me, and for her. We were, for the rest of that week, like a couple of newlyweds. We would wake up together and start making love slowly, rocking gently in the morning sun. Every glance we shared seemed to have some hidden meaning, known only to us. I’m sure to Tod, we were rather disgusting. He rarely left his room, as we could, in theory, be making love anywhere at anytime. He felt like a third wheel, but he was very gracious about it. Though he’d never admit it, I think he truly felt something for Elizabeth, and I know that he felt extremely responsible for both her death, and the death of his child. I suspect that he spent a great deal of that time looking over his life, because he was very introspective over those days. Truth to tell, I think that Elizabeth’s death is the best thing that could have possibly happened to Tod. I don’t mean that to sound as callous as it does, exactly, but it is the truth, and the truth can, at times, be difficult to swallow. Well, one day, I was making love to my pretty red-headed lover, when I heard a car pull in the driveway. Just at that moment, I began to cum, and as I filled her, Megan flung me off her, muttering, “Oh, fuck,” over and over again. Quickly pulling my pants on, I grabbed my guitar and ran. What a time for them to find us, eh? Megan had warned Tod, and we all ran like the wind. We separated, of course. It seemed sensible, at the time. It seemed remarkably less sensible when I was picked up five minutes later, and Megan (who had, unbeknownst to me, been trailing me throughout my escape, waiting to help), only a few scant minutes after me. Oddly enough, they failed to find Tod. It was only the local PD, however. They were informed to hold Megan and I until the specialists arrived. There were three of them. They emptied the entire wing of the local prison, just to interrogate Megan and I. It started, of course, with nothing more than vicious beatings. I was bleeding in places that I didn’t know could bleed, and I still hadn’t been asked a single question. Megan, however, knew something. I don’t know what, but she knew, and she wasn’t telling. She was beaten repeatedly. The days passed. By the end of our third day under question, Megan and I were filthy, huddled together under the single threadbare blanket we had been given. We were in the corner of our cell, trying desperately to share body heat we didn’t have. “Will we get out?” I asked her softly. Megan stared at me, her brilliant emerald eyes dimmed to a murky forest green. “No matter what happens, I will get you out,” she stated. “And I ALWAYS keep my promises. It will just take a few more days, and then it should work.” With that, we both fell silent. We hadn’t yet been fed that day, and I think we were both about to give up. Megan would say what they wanted her to say, and we’d both be killed, or exiled, or something like that. To my surprise, however, it wasn’t the guards who came the next day, but Tod. I looked out and saw the two bloody FBI agents. Slowly, we made our way out. Megan and I were half starving and practically naked. We did escape, however, with little or no dramatics (until, that is, the leader of the group found the bodies, and learned of our escape). Simplicity Rested, I finally asked Tod the question that I had been pondering for some time. “Tod,” I asked my brother, “why did you come back for us?” Tod seemed to hesitate, and I expected him to go with the natural Tod response- a flippant, insulting remark. Instead, I received a sad sigh, as Tod sat down at the kitchen table. “I have,” he began, “been jealous of you all my life.” This came as some revelation to me, and my slack-jawed surprise must have shown, because he smiled rather bitterly. “Oh, yes. Extremely jealous. I would try as hard as I could to undermine you in all that you did. I wanted you alone in the world. “When I heard about your engagement, I knew what I had to do. I had to seduce and fuck your little fiancée. It was how I proved that I was better than you. To be honest, it was much less difficult to divest her of her virginity than I had thought it would be. She was almost eager for it. “It happened on the second time we met. We were at a gym, both working out. I snuck into the ladies changing room, as it was mostly empty, and started kissing her as she was in the shower. She didn’t even hesitate.” He grinned briefly. “Hell, your little FBI girl out there is the loyal one. She practically threatened me with castration if I tried it with her. Actually, there was very little threatening about it. If was more like a statement of fact than anything else. “Anyway, I pinned Elizabeth against the wall of the shower, and shoved my dick up her like that, taking her virginity against the wall in a public shower. She loved it. We continued seeing each other, and I started to genuinely care about her. I didn’t want her to marry you. I wanted her.” He looked down in sorrow. “It was that, in part, that killed her.” I shook my hand, for that statement was not true. However, I knew I couldn’t convince him about that. “Well, I realized, brother, over the last week that we all deserve a chance at happiness. I was wrong in trying to steal yours. I wanted to make amends, brother.” He looked at me, forlorn and hopeless. “Can you forgive me?” he asked tentatively. I hugged him. Later, much later, I was making love to Megan again. This time, she was on all fours on the bed of the motel, perky breasts swaying beneath her as she rocked in time with my thrusts. Her second orgasm tightened her pussy around me, forcing me to explode inside her. We cuddled, then, and kissed a little. “Who was that man who was ‘questioning’ us?” I asked her, suddenly realizing just how odd his behavior was. “That,” she replied, “is the traitor. Within two days, he’ll be arrested, and you’ll be cleared. Everything’s in motion.” “How do you know that?” I asked. She was amazing. “I let my contacts who knew why it was I disappeared about the leak, and everything connected with it. Together, we all broke it down to three choices. He was actually the least likely, oddly enough, but he was the one who would rather see us dead than potentially speaking. My bets are on him.” I mulled this over. “God damn,” was the only reply I could come up with. And she was right. I got word that I was cleared, Megan was reinstated, and Tod was a changed man. I was standing in the door with Megan. Tod had already left. It was just the two of us. “I’ll be sorry to see you go,” I said, a small hitch in my coice. She grinned slightly at me. “Sorry,” she said melodically, “but I have resigned.” I gaped at her. “But that’s what you do!” I said, voice full of astonishment. Her grin remained small, but there was a pronounced glint in her eyes. “What is it that you think I should do?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I told her, quite truthfully. “I’m not sure. I can tell you, however, that I trust whatever decision you make.” She practically squealed. “Ooooh, you always know exactly what to say.” She lunged at me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her lips to mine. As we frantically undressed each other, she whispered, “I’m staying with you, forever.” She gasped when two of my fingers began massaging me. “I promise,” were the last words out of her mouth before she began to squeal in full blown pleasure as my six inch cock began to slide inside of her. EPILOGUE- A New Beginning (or Act III of II) I stared out at all the people assembled. I didn’t even know most of them. Some were friends Megan and I had made as wanderers, seeing everything there was to see, singing everything there was to sing. They were all gathered there, staring up and Megan and I. Even Tod was there, with his fiancée, a girl who, only a few years ago, he would have called a peasant and walked all over. Her name is Heather, and she is quite gorgeous, if lacking in money or any sort of well known family name. Rarely did I see such an infatuated couple. It was different for me, however, up in front of everyone. I had never had stage fright. I was never afraid of crowds. At least not until then. And I could imagine no worse time for me to get cold feet. I forced myself to stay still, to make all the proper responses. It was all a blur to me; one big, happy blur. I remember very little about anything that happened that day. I only have one, real memory of that day. A single one. The entire place was silent, breath bated as they waited for Megan’s response. I let all my worries leave me once I heard the words, “I do,” come from her mouth. She loves and loved me, as I do her, but just as important: she always keeps her promises, and she had promised to be with me forever. I was and am a happy man.