0 comments/ 965 views/ 6 favorites Until Death... By: alextasy He groaned with the first gratifying surge, arching his back and thrusting deep with the primal instinct to ensure the potency of his seed. She fastened her cold lips tight against his open mouth and inhaled. His eyes opened as his breath was stolen away. She began separating from the blonde bimbo host, and above him he could see her specter's face from the grave, hollow and decaying. His eyes grew wide with fear. Too late, he tried to scream. She reached through him and placed her hands around his heart, squeezing... ~~~~~ The woman had haunted him even in life. She stirred the gin and tonic. She couldn't fathom why he liked such a horrid, bitter drink. Dismissing other suitors, she waited, familiar with his schedule and his habits, certain that he would arrive soon. Crossed legs exposed a slender thigh from beneath a slinky, black strapless dress. Lips set in a sexy pout, dabbed with the same lipstick that seemed to attract him to other women, his preferred shade of auburn hair cascading over naked shoulders: like an angler's prize caddis fly, every aspect of her appearance was crafted to lure him. He entered a few minutes later than usual with two of his buddies from the firm. Dapper in his grey wool suit and pale yellow shirt - her personal favorite - and a black and gold silk tie, he was perfect in her eyes. At a table on the edge of the dance floor, the men laughed over their drinks. She observed him glancing at her. To ensure that none of the others misunderstood, she caught his eye when they howled over some inside joke, then she looked away, flirting. It didn't take long. He consulted with his friends, gesturing at her. One slapped him on the back and he strutted to the bar. "Hi. I'd buy you a drink, but your glass is full." She flashed green eyes at him, picked up the highball and downed it in one gulp. Shaking it off, she lifted the glass toward him. "Gin and tonic." "Really? That's my drink, too." He gestured to the bartender, "Two, please" "Make mine a double," she added. It sent the right message, and maybe the alcohol would dilute the bitter tonic. "Are you new in town? I've never seen you in here before." Of course he hadn't seen her. She'd lain in the shadows for months, observing each nuance of his behavior. She knew his crooked smile, full of perfect white teeth. She knew his strong angular jaw, his warm brown eyes, the mole under his ear, even the depth of his stubble this time of day. She knew how he would insinuate himself between a woman and the bar, so his leg rubbed against hers - just as he did now - and so he could peek down her cleavage when she looked away - just as she did now. "I'm a Yankees fan," she answered, turning toward the TV, "just looking for someplace to watch the game where I'm not alone." She knew almost nothing about baseball, but she memorized the players names and the names of their positions - once she got him started, he would expound the statistics and virtues of his team - their team - and she would nod in agreement. "I don't like to be alone," she added, catching his gaze as it shifted guiltily from her breasts. They never saw the end of the first inning. Amid smirks and salacious looks from his co-workers, he guided her to the door. His apartment was pretty much as she had expected. It had all the markings of a male sanctuary: faux leather furniture, dying plants, and starving artist paintings on beige walls. She was confident that would all change of course, after they were married. He made drinks for both of them. She sucked the lime, then toyed with the swizzle stick while they chatted on the sofa. Soft jazz and blues trickled from oversized speakers. "Do you dance?" He stood, offering his hand. She accepted. He was an awful dancer, but that would change, too. Shoes off, he held her close, her head resting on his shoulder. They swayed together, tiny steps leading in small circles. His hands wandered over her back, to her neck. Fingers ran through her hair while the other hand slid down her spine to squeeze her tight derriere. He drew her closer, the lump in his trousers pressed hard against her belly. Her arms encircled his neck, she tilted her head, and they locked in a lustful kiss. The hand on her back found a zipper. Soon, the dress slithered over her skin to the floor, and her bra followed soon after. His rough, cotton shirt brushed her tender nipples, titillating them to attention. His fingertips provoked shivers, gliding from her underarms, past her waist, to her hips, where they found nothing but bare skin. Encouraged, he steered her back to the sofa, and sat her down on the cold leather. She unfastened his belt, unzipped his fly, and tugged his trousers to the floor. Boxers followed, exposing the first surprise - an uncircumcised penis. That, too, would absolutely have to change, and before they got married. He had to be clean and healthy. It might be a little painful for a while, but that was the way it was supposed to be she thought. That didn't matter now. She held the loose foreskin back and her moist lips encircled the pink head. Her tongue reached underneath the glans and fluttered there a moment. He groaned and wove his fingers through her hair, driving his member deeper. She withdrew, then pulled him a little further in. He was smaller than the cucumbers she'd practiced with, preparing just for this moment. Flattening her tongue, she took a deep breath, swallowed, and pulled his engorged flesh past the tight ring of her throat. He was awed by his first ever deep throat - it was fantastic!. Her lips dragged along his full length, pulling back almost to the tip before immersing him again. On the fourth dip, when she extended her tongue and licked his balls, he moaned, "Oh, god, baby, that feels so good, I'm coming! Swallow it, baby, oh, yeah, I want you to swallow it all!" That was her second surprise - he was too quick. He should have had more control! They couldn't waste his precious semen like this, not tonight. Before he could spill a drop, she withdrew and he plopped out of her mouth. "What the fuck?" he yelled, and yanked her hair forward to finish the job. She pulled his wrist away, then stood up. With a sexy gaze, she took his hand, and led him into the bedroom. She laid back on his unmade bed, legs spread, beckoning him forward. He misunderstood, assuming that she wanted what most women wanted first. He crawled onto the bed, his face between her legs. Though many had tried, she had never let a man kiss her down there before. She thought it dirty, and not at all normal. Since she felt certain he was the one, her one true love, she allowed him this small perversity, this one time. Instead, this was her third surprise, an unexpectedly pleasant one. His warm breath across her sex was tantalizing. The touch of his fingers pulling apart her moist petals thrilled her senses. When his rough tongue slid across her tiny bud, a jolt of electric currents coursed through her body. That was the sign! She was sure about him before, but now there was no doubt he was the one. Blurting out, "That's it, yes!", she clutched his hair. Under her guidance, his lingual stimulation delivered her first ever climax that didn't involve her own fingers. When her shivering and shaking slowed, she released her grip. He climbed on top and slid into her tight little twat. A scant twenty three seconds later he arched his back, plunged deep inside, and spilled his cream against her ripe cervix. "I love you," she whispered, holding him tight. He looked startled, then broke her embrace and scurried to the bathroom. When he returned, brushing his teeth, he told her, "Hey, I've got an important meeting with a big client in the morning and need to get my sleep. You have to go now." She had wanted to stay the night, but she understood. He had to make good money to support her and the baby. She dressed in the living room while he finished in the bathroom, hung up his pants, kissed him goodnight, and left with a satisfied smile. She had planned and waited for this special day, when all the critical factors and circumstances would fall into place and everything would be perfect. It had been far better than she ever expected. Then, he didn't call. There were no emails. She had left him all of her contact information. Maybe he had lost it - he was so careless, sometimes - so she called him. After leaving a host of electronic messages, each a little more agitated, she met him at the bar again. He said he'd been busy at work. Of course he had; he's an important executive. Hidden, she watched him. At lunch, he flirted with the waitresses. All men do that, though. After work, he went to bars and sometimes met women there. He left with some of them, but that was just to make his buddies jealous. He really loved her, she knew. They were going to be together forever. Inside his apartment, courtesy of an impression she'd made of the keys in his pants, she wallowed in his scent. She covered her face with the underwear from his bathroom floor, inhaling his essence. She rolled around in his bed, twiddling her sex and dreaming of his luscious tongue. Sometimes, she hung his clothes or did his dishes. Wouldn't he be surprised! A month passed, and the fruit of their passion was confirmed. She left him countless messages about the good news, but he never responded. A knock on her door found two police officers with a piece of paper. A restraining order? She didn't understand. What does this mean? She waited in his apartment for an explanation. When the front door opened, she was in his bed, her finger in her panties. She started to run to him, but there was another voice. A woman's voice? She hid in the louvered closet. A platinum blonde with huge boobs came in first, and he followed. This was all wrong - she knew he didn't like blondes. They stripped and jumped onto the mattress. Heads at opposite ends, they meshed, the blonde's meaty lips on him, his face nestled in the bimbo's dark pubes. He can't do that, I'm the only one he kisses that way, she thought - it's just not right! She burst through the closet door; he was too shocked to respond. She jerked his head back by his hair and held it there, shaking her finger at him and scolding him for his inappropriate behavior. Then she turned to the blonde. "I don't know who you are, you tramp, but you better get out of her before I call the police!" "Who the hell are you?" the whore inquired. "I'm his fiance'," she replied with righteous indignation, "and I'm carrying his baby!" He denied her, "No, she's not! We're not engaged! And I don't know who the fuck's baby you say you've got, but it sure isn't mine. Now get the fuck out of here, you crazy bitch!" She stared, her mouth agape, awaiting an apology. "What? Why are you saying that, my love? Don't you love me? We have a family on the way," she pleaded, hand against her belly/ "Don't you want your child? You know I love you - I'm the only one who truly loves you. You're the only one for me, my love." He exploded, "I've got a restraining order against you, bitch! You can't come within a hundred yards of me. Now get the fuck out of her before I call the police and have you arrested!" He picked up his cell, prepared to dial. His rejection pierced her like a dagger. Tears welled, then flowed. Head in her hands, sobbing, she stumbled out of the apartment. She wandered the chilly city streets for a long time, lost, aimless. Passing a pawn shop window, she found her answers. He came straight home from work the next day; he wasn't in a mood for socializing, . Again, she was waiting for him, wearing a lacy white floor-length satin gown, her hair in a French braid, with a nosegay of roses and carnations in one hand, a .38 revolver in the other. "Come here love, stand by me," she summoned with the gun. Then, in a soothing voice, "soon we'll be together, forever." She was about six feet away. He might have tried to run, but he wasn't sure of her skills. He opted to buy some time. He stood facing her, as she instructed. She set the bouquet down while handing him the ring from the pawn shop. The revolver, discounted with the ring, didn't waver. She gazed on him with a loving expression while she recited her wedding vows. Then, it was his turn. "Put the ring on my finger, now, my love. That's right. Now, repeat after me: with this ring," she began, and led him through the vows, ending with, "until death do us part." She turned to where she imagined the minister stood. She, alone, heard the words she longed for, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." She looked up at her husband, closed her eyes, and puckered her lips. He grabbed the gun and turned it on her. Despite his inexperience, he got lucky. The first shot bored through her heart. As she collapsed, already dead, the second shot shattered her skull. A third, to her belly as she lay on the floor, struck their son. Freed from the confines of her mortal body, her disturbed spirit rose above them, watching the scene unfold. The corpse in the gown was a gory mess. It would take him weeks to find and clean all of the splattered blood. The police arrived, handcuffed him, and took him downtown. They shouldn't have done that - they kept him from completing the ceremony and joining her. She attended her own funeral. He didn't show up, only the minister and a few friends from her office. It must have been too difficult for him to accept. She kept following him, trying to get a message to him somehow. She tried talking to him, but he didn't hear. The best she could do was to blow papers onto the floor. She was sure he wanted to be with her; she just had to let him know that she was there. She looked for her opportunity everywhere. A few nights after the wedding, the big-boobed blonde followed him home again. They both wore costumes: a wolf mask and silk suit for him, and a hooded cape and basket for little red blow job. After pondering a moment, she figured it out, "Of course! It's Halloween!" This was her chance. The glowing clock face showed 11:52. There was still time! The couple moved straight to the bedroom and undressed. She floated high above them, little more than a nebulous shadow, watching and waiting. He laid on his back while fat lips sucked him erect, then the bimbo straddled him. As the blonde's furry trap slid over his shaft, she dove into the fray, shoved the slut aside, and took possession of the fleshy female's frame. He sensed a chill - her skin seemed colder, somehow, even the inside of her slippery snatch. If his eyes had been open, he would have seen a vacant blackness at the core of her intense stare. She took stock of her new figure. The boobs weren't too bad. They jiggled like jello-filled balloons as she bounced on his boner, which felt better than she would've ever expected. The cunt was too wet, too loose - he didn't seem to fill her as well as she remembered. She tried squeezing her vaginal walls. The bimbo's cunt muscles weren't so well developed as hers, but it helped some. She leaned forward, resting on his outstretched arms, to improve the contact between her nub and his slick member. That also dropped her breasts into his face. He responded by sucking and licking them, and nibbling the huge, coral nipples, which incited tingling sensations all over. She liked this. Despite the sloppy pussy, she enjoyed the feeling of him inside her, and wanted to prolong her pleasure. It was nearly midnight, though. This time she was thankful he wouldn't last long. She squeezed the best she could, and rode him fast and hard to bring him to a quick release. He groaned with the first gratifying surge, arching his back and thrusting deep with the primal instinct to ensure the potency of his seed. She fastened her lips tight against his open mouth and inhaled. His eyes opened as his breath was stolen away. She began separating from the blonde bimbo host, and above him he could see the gray specter's face from the grave, hollow and decaying. His eyes grew wide with fear. Too late, he tried to scream. She reached through him and placed her hands around his heart, squeezing. "I'm here, my love," she cooed, "come with me, and we can be together again." His face contorted into a mask of horror. He tried to move, to push her off, but his arms were restrained in an unearthly grasp. He was helpless as consciousness slipped away. She held his beating muscle, tightening her grip with each contraction. Little by little, the cadence slowed, until his heart was finally hers. With an eerie howl, his spirit detached from the flesh. Hovering above the bed, he heard a distant shriek as the blonde recovered her mortal form and beheld his bulging eyes, his twisted, gaping mouth. He watched the girl's sad attempts to resuscitate him. She repeated, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!", as though her bountiful breasts or vigorous lap ride were somehow the cause of his demise. "I'm so glad you came for me," a familiar voice materialized behind him. He spun around to face a rotting wraith in a bridal gown, "I knew you wouldn't make me wait too long." "No...no, it can't be, get away from me!" He struggled against the wispy tentacles encircling him. "Be still, my love, we're together now," her soft, creepy voice chilled his lifeless soul, "together to the end of time! Isn't that wonderful? Kiss me, my love. Kiss me in my special place." Speechless, he stared in fear as he felt the weight of ectoplasmic arms pushing him down, down past the gaping hole in her belly, further, until an icy wind lifted the white gown, leaving him face to face with the gray, dried flesh of her decomposing pussy. A slimy worm slithered out from where her clitoris should have been, insects and spiders crawling in and out of decaying holes. Her vagina opened to him, wider and wider, an expanding maw sucking at his mouth, dislodging his tongue and stretching it into a distended, pink serpent. As her ghoulish cunt inhaled his long, grotesque tongue, he was surprised that, despite the absence of a corporeal body, he could still smell her putrid flesh, could still taste her, like dirt and vinegar and rot. Try as he might to retract his tongue, the powerful suction was too strong. Her skeletal legs tightened around his head, and with impassioned moans and delirious screeches, she cackled in the joy of eternal cunnilingus. Miserable and hopeless, he let out a hideous wail, like a wolf in a snare, as they whirled away through the timeless void. Until Death Do Us Part John used the short length of pipe in his hand to slap the counter hard on both sides of Dee. The hits were hard enough to leave dents and scars in the counter top. Dee jumped and whimpered in fear at each sharp report that sounded like a gunshot. "You lying, cheating bitch. You can't be satisfied fucking the whole damn neighborhood. You had to mess with my little brother too. I ought to bust your skull," he yelled as he slammed the pipe into the counter only inches from Dee's left elbow. With her back to the kitchen counter she had nowhere to run from the big man towering over her. She cowered there for a second and then looked up into her husband's angry face. His face was livid. She had never seen him this mad. All the other times he had beat her, his face had been red and angry but he had been icy calm on the inside. He was in a rage now, almost beyond thinking and almost completely out of control. She made a quick move to her left. He grabbed her by her hair and slung her into the corner where this counter met the next. Dee's back was to him. Suddenly she was bent over the counter from the force of the blow he delivered to her back with his free hand. The block with the kitchen knives was right in front of her face. Her right hand shot out, grabbed the long narrow bladed filet knife, and returned to a position close to her breasts. She held the blade flat on the counter so she wouldn't cut herself in case he hit her again. He slapped her on each side of the head instead. "Turn around bitch, I want to see your face." "No, you'll hurt me," Dee screamed. John slapped her on each side of the head several times and yelled, "If you don't turn around it'll be twice as bad." There was the sound of a siren turning into the short dead end street they lived on. John grabbed Dee's hair and yanked her up straight. "You called the fucking cops." It was a statement, not a question. "No, no I didn't. When could I have? The lady next door must have done it, she was washing her dishes the same time I was," Dee pleaded. She heard the siren cut off suddenly. "You lying bitch," John yelled as he dragged Dee down the counter so he could look out the window. Sure enough the busybody next door was at her kitchen window. There was a knock on the front door. "Sheriff's Department," a loud male voice called out. Dee screamed as long and as loud as she could. John released his hold on her hair and slapped her hard on the side of her face, spinning her sideways. The pain and shock of the slap cut the scream off sharply. Dee felt the warm trickle of blood at the corner of her lip and the coppery salty taste of blood was in her mouth. "Open this door," the officer yelled from outside. Dee screamed for help but it was cut off by a hard backhand that made her sag. She heard the crash as the officer kicked in the front door. She looked up into John's eyes and whispered, "Your little brother ain't that little, and he sure was better in bed than you ever were." John yelled, "Bitch," and raised the pipe. The pipe started forward but the knife in Dee's hand was faster. She drove it into his chest with the power of her arms and legs behind it. It entered low under his ribcage and went upward until the hilt and her hand touched his shirt. Dee's eyes were locked on John's face the whole time. The total rage turned to surprise and shock, followed by disbelief. His eyes closed and he started to crumple. Dee watched, as he seemed to drop in slow motion. She felt the knife handle slip from her hands; it was suddenly sticky and slippery at the same time. She looked at the blood covering her hands, her eyes going wide. Dee felt herself sagging and then someone was helping her to cross the room and sit down at the kitchen table. Slowly Dee turned her head to the right to find a sheriff's deputy on one knee next to her. "I.... I.... I...." Dee stammered and then she burst into tears, her body racked by sobs and moaning groans as she leaned forward and put her forehead on the table. Hot tears flooded her eyes and ran through her eyebrows and across her forehead to her hairline. Deputy Robert Phillips got up and went to check the man on the floor. He wasn't breathing and there was no pulse. He put in a radio call to the shift sergeant requesting the coroner and medical. After that he gave the dispatcher a short rundown on what had taken place. A faint smile touched Dee's lips for a second as he finished his report. His last words had been to the effect that John's death had been self-defense. Everything was going to plan. She was free of her abusive husband at last and had his brother to console her, what else could she ask for. John had been such an asshole and had controlled her life in every way. It had been beyond him to understand just how much she had really hated him. He would have never believed that she could have enough backbone to try and fight back, much less plan his murder and carry it out. The beatings, the physical and mental abuse, the rapes of her body, mind and spirit, had all torn her down but underneath it all something had grown. Something that had in the end killed John and everything he had stood for. Love had been replaced by hate and hate by loathing and loathing by cold hard reason. Yes, revenge was a dish best served cold because it was cold-blooded murder in the end. ***** Jerry, John's brother, was the first of the family to arrive. The coroner had already checked John's body and had it loaded. The EMT's had checked Dee out and cataloged her injuries. Some fresh bruises and a lot of old ones, plus the cut lip all added to her claim of abuse. Dee had only caught a brief glimpse of Jerry before the sheriff's deputy had pulled him to the side for a long conversation. Dee prayed that Jerry wouldn't mention their affair. If he did, it probably wouldn't hurt anything but.... She didn't want any buts of any kind. Dee sat at the kitchen table and let things happen around her. She was in shock she realized but wasn't sure if it was from killing John or the fact that everything had gone off flawlessly. She knew that a lot of it had been luck, like John changing out the pressure release pipe on the hot water heater and leaving the old pipe standing against the wall next to the door. The easy part had been Jerry's cap on the chair in the bedroom and the used condom in the bathroom trash. John had no way of knowing that the condom was his. The one he had used three days ago to rape her ass. He had assumed that it belonged to his brother. When she and Jerry had sex, she wouldn't let him use a condom. She wanted to feel him, to feel his skin rubbing in her most secret and treasured places. John had always worn a condom. It was his way of showing her how dirty he thought she was. She had never cheated on him but he called her a whore and a slut. Jerry was probably her only friend in the world. The only contact that John hadn't severed. The only person she was allowed to speak to. She had marveled at how easily they had fallen in love, at how he had understood when she had finally told him how his brother had treated her. He had wanted to confront John but she wouldn't let him. John would have beat him up and she wouldn't have had anyone then. John would have her completely cut off from the world and she wouldn't have been able to handle that. Jerry was her lifeline. A hand on her shoulder brought Dee's head up. She hadn't even realized that she had laid it down. She looked at her hands and blinked. There wasn't any blood on them. Then she remembered the EMT washing them off in the bathroom sink. She looked around to see Jerry knelling next to her. "Hey Sis, how are you doing?" Dee looked around the room. They were alone in the dinning room. When had she moved to here? After the EMT washed her hands, a little voice in her head replied. She nodded to herself and looked back at Jerry. "I'm not doing to well at all," she whispered as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I.... I.... Killed John." "Yes, I know," Jerry whispered. "The sheriff's deputy told me all about it. You were protecting yourself. You didn't have a choice." When Dee didn't say anything Jerry added, "I told the deputy what you had told me about the way he treated you. The deputy had already figured most of it out. He talked to your neighbor and her husband. They told him what they had heard and seen, and not just about this time either." Dee turned back to the table, lowered her head back to her hands, and started to sob. She was so tired and wanted to go to bed. She wanted it all to go away. Everything but John being dead that is. That was as it should be. She felt Jerry's hands on her shoulders rubbing at the knots in the muscles on each side of her neck. His hands felt so good that she moaned softly between sobs as the knots slowly loosened. She hadn't realized just how tense her body was. Her mind was in limbo but her body was as tight as a bowstring. Dee was almost asleep when there was a loud wail from the direction of the living room. Dee sat up with a jerk as she recognized Rita's voice. Rita was her mother, John, and Jerry's mom. She was the woman who had allowed her husband to beat her for thirty years. Rita had empowered John indirectly by allowing herself to be beaten. Between her and her husband, they had made John think that, that was the way a marriage was supposed to be. The funny thing was, Jerry seemed to go the opposite way, he was gentle and shy. Dee wondered if he had been abused in some way. Her thoughts were cut off as she heard Rita yell, "What do you mean you're not arresting that bitch? She killed my son!" Dee heard muted replies and several people trying to calm Rita down but she wasn't having any of it. She wanted Dee arrested and being beaten wasn't any excuse for her to kill John. When Jerry started to head that way, Dee grabbed his arm and shook her head sharply. "Please! Please don't! Stay here with me," she whispered urgently. "I need you." Jerry squatted by Dee's knee and whispered, "Yeah, but you don't need her in here on your case. I was going to try and get her to leave." "Let them handle it. You don't need her mad at you either," Dee whispered and then she stood up as Rita yelled, "Throw that bitch in jail before I kill her myself." Dee shrugged off Jerry's hand as she walked slowly and deliberately into the living room. Rita was struggling to get away from the Deputy Sheriff that had been the first to arrive. He had her around the waist and was trying to get her out the front door. Rita saw Dee and yelled, "Bitch, I'm gong to kill you!" Dee shook her head and sighed. "No, you're not. You're going home and let John's father beat the crap out of you, like always. That's where John learned it all, isn't it?" Dee said in a calm cutting voice. "John's father never hit me in his life," Rita protested. "Tell it to someone who doesn't know better. It takes one to know one and I can see the signs all over you. I've seen the bruises and the split lips. I've seen the sunglasses at night and on cloudy days. I've been there and now I'm free," Dee said coldly. "You killed my son," Rita wailed. "No, John killed himself a little at a time as he tried to kill me a piece at a time. Only this time he was going to kill me for real, only I got there first." "You were all the time provoking him. It's your fault. He didn't call you a slut all the time without a good reason," Rita shot back. "No, he called me a whore and a slut because I was more woman than he could handle and he knew it. He abused me sexually and raped me because that was the only way he could get it up. He used those words to tear me down, just like your husband uses them on you. You both taught him well," Dee said in a chilled whisper. "Now get the fuck out of my house and never come back." Rita stood there with her mouth hanging open for a moment. She had never heard her daughter talk this way. She had always been quiet and shy, mousy was the word she was looking for. Rita's shock was enough for the deputy to get her turned and headed out the door. "This isn't over!" Rita yelled as she went out the door. "Yes it is!" Dee said in a calm emotionless voice. "It's over and done with." As Rita was escorted down the sidewalk and to her car, Jerry came up behind Dee and put his arms around her waist. There was no one in the house but them. He hugged her tightly and kissed her hair. Dee sighed and leaned back against him. "After they all leave, will you scrub my back for me?" "Only if I can scrub all the rest of you also," Jerry whispered back. "Yes, I want to feel clean and safe, and then I want to get very messy. I want you to make me feel alive and loved." "I'll take the rest of the week off and stay with you," Jerry said softly. "We wouldn't want you to do anything rash in your depression over John's death, now would we." "No, we wouldn't." Dee replied with a deep contented sigh. "In a few weeks we'll check into John's affairs and see where you stand as far as the house and everything. There's a widows pension and benefit plus the insurance policy through the union and I think he had a second policy of his own. You should be in good shape financial," Jerry whispered. "All that's probably in your mother's name." Dee replied. "Nope. The union makes sure its stuff is in the wife's name. The personal one he had is in your name also. I know, I called and changed it shortly after he took it out. They thought I was him; it was easy. It's for a half million, which should make life easier." "What!" Dee said with a start. She had never even thought about money or the future until now. Her hatred and loathing of John had been her only and complete focus. What if the insurance company tried to say she killed him for the money. The deputy would be the answer to that. He was an eyewitness to what John had been going to do. Anyway they had to prove that she even knew about the policy. She hadn't even known about the widow's benefits. "Why did you do that?" Dee asked. "I wanted to make sure you would be all right if and when something happened to John. If you hadn't killed him, he would have probably had a heart attack sometime in the next few years. He was headed that way with his anger and the stress he put himself under." Jerry told her. Dee moaned softly and felt lightheaded. "I need to lie down," she whispered as she swayed from side to side. Jerry half carried her over to the couch and got her comfortable. He hurried outside to find the EMTs. According to a deputy they had already gone. "I think she's in shock," Jerry said to the deputy. "The best thing for her is sleep," the deputy told him and then asked, "Is anyone staying with her?" Jerry nodded. "I am. I'm about the only person she has that she trusts." The deputy nodded in reply and handed Jerry a card. "If she has any difficulty breathing or gets violently upset, give me a call. I can have an ambulance here quickly. Otherwise, let her rest, keep her warn, well fed and hydrated. Maybe some counseling in a few days. The battered woman's shelter would be the place to call." Jerry nodded and took the card. "I loved my brother but what he did to Dee was wrong in so many ways. What my dad did and does to my mom is just as bad." "You can file a complaint against your dad, you know," the deputy said softly. Jerry shook his head. "My mom would deny it. You heard her inside." The deputy nodded and sighed. "Your sister is one of the lucky ones. What happened was the hard way but she lived to get away from the abuse." Jerry sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it. She is far stronger than I ever gave her credit for." As Jerry walked toward the house, the officer said, "If your mother gives her any problem, have her call me. I'll put the fear of God in her." Jerry nodded and waved over his shoulder. ***** Dee woke with a start on the couch. Bright sunlight was coming through the glass of the front door. She was dressed as she had been the night before and there was a blanket over her. Jerry was sprawled in the big overstuffed chair in the corner. She smiled at his slack sleeping face. He wasn't a Greek god or anything close but she loved his face. It was so peaceful most all the time. The events from the night before where a whirling dervish in the far back of her mind and she shied away from releasing them again. She tossed the blanket back and sat up on the side of the couch. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of her own body odor. Fear and sweat were mixed with something else. It took her a moment but she finally realized it was excitement. She started for the kitchen but turned down the hall instead. She could not make herself go in that room yet. It would release the memories and she was not ready for that. She ended up in the bathroom with her clothes on the floor and the door open. She stepped in the shower naked and turned on the water. Dee adjusted the water for as hot as she could possible stand and then let it pound on her upper shoulders, neck, and back. Her hands roamed over her belly, breasts, and hips in a large circular pattern. Her mind was as fogged as the glass shower door. Everything felt so right for a change. There was no one yelling that she was using too much hot water. She turned and let the stinging spray wash over her upper chest. She backed up a half step slowly. The stinging needles of water moving across her breasts, hips, and sex. A stream would hit one of her nipples or her clit directly and she would whimper softly. It felt slightly painful but gave her tingles of pleasure at the same time. Dee moved back forward and moved her hips and body around. Suddenly, there was a stinging needle on both nipples and her clit. She groaned loudly as her body shivered deeply. She took a quick step to the side as her left hand came up to cover her right breast and her right hand moved down across her belly to cup her sex. With a whimpering moan, Dee started to caress her breast and to move her hand on her sex. Her middle finger slipped between the folds of her sex. Her fingertip moved along the glassy smooth slippery bottom of her slit as the upper part of her finger teased her clit. Her hips twitched and jerked as pleasure shot out from her clit. The click of the shower door made Dee jump and move her hands quickly. Jerry stepped inside as naked as she was. He went to his knees without a word and lifted her leg up over his shoulder as his lips found her clit. A minute or so later, Dee was yelling and flexing her hips hard, rubbing her sex on his face as his tongue burrowed deep into her pussy. His nose rubbed her clit at the same time and she was coming long and hard on his face. She grabbed his head and ground her sex even hard against him. Flashing lights and exploding fireworks filled her mind to overflowing. Pleasure ran through her veins like there was no tomorrow. Pure pleasure with no pain attached. ***** Dee floated on a sea of endorphins. She was only vaguely aware of Jerry holding her up in his arms as he kissed and nibbled the junction of her neck and shoulder. The hot water was stinging her back just above her tailbone. She moaned softly and put her arms around his waist as she felt his hot hard dick pressed to her mound and lower belly. It drew her attention slowly as her inner muscles clamped down tightly on nothing repeatedly. Taking her weight on her feet, Dee whimpered and lifted the leg on the opposite side from where Jerry was kissing. She came up on her toes but she still was not high enough to get the head of his dick even close to her vagina. She rubbed herself against his dick by flexing her hips as she pleaded, "Please, please, please." Until Death Do Us Part Jerry's hands cupped her ass and lifted. A moment later, she was impaled on his long dick. It hit places his brother had only dreamed about on his best days. Dee wrapped her legs around Jerry's hips and held onto him tightly as he slowly fucked her. She shivered and moaned as he did. Her inner muscles now had something to grab onto and they continually tried. The endorphins were still swirling through her brain but another orgasm was building quickly. She gave herself over to its rising urges and Jerry gently lovemaking and his hands squeezing and massaging her ass. John had never been in a shower with her. He would have never allowed the door to be open or the lights to be on full bright. This was everything he was not and it was very cleansing for the body, mind, spirit, and soul. Dee felt the warm, smooth, bare skin of his dick rubbing her depths and groaned loudly. She loved to feel his bare dick in her pussy. It thrilled her to no end. Her orgasm leap upward and burst in her mind and body as Jerry continued to fuck her slowly. She felt her pussy grab and try to hold him so hard it almost hurt but that just added to her excitement and spiked her orgasm upward. A minute or so later, she felt Jerry's dick swell and then a warm sensation deep in her sex. She knew he was coming in her and that made her moan and flex her hips as she hugged him tightly. It felt so clean to be so dirty. She had never been on birth control; John would not allow it since he always used condoms. Anyway, the idea of a child with him sickened her. Just the thought of having Jerry's on the other hand made her cry out with joy. Jerry whispering he loved her with his head next to hers made Dee moan softly and reply, "I love you so much it hurts." "After a year or so, we will get married and get the fuck out of this town," Jerry whispered. "That is if you will have me." The next thing Jerry knew, Dee was kissing him with more passion than he ever thought was possible in a kiss. When the kiss finally broke Dee leaned back and smiled at him. "What if I get pregnant? I've never been on birth control." Jerry smiled and whispered, "There is one thing about it, I know for sure that it is mine." Dee smiled shyly and nodded. At that moment, the water started to get cold. Dee shivered and unhooked her legs from around his hips. His dick was still semi hard as she slipped down and stood on her feet. She had shivered harder than with the cold water when it rubbed across her clit coming out. She quickly turned around and rinsed the outside of her pussy with the now ice cold water. When she turned back, Jerry was rinsing his dick with the same ice cold water and the shrinkage was playing hell with him doing it. Dee laughed and turned the water off, saying, "Don't worry, I know how to warm it up again." Jerry grinned and pulled her into his arms as he said, "I'm sure you do. If not then I will teach you the loving way of doing it." The kiss that followed was sweet and tender. It had Dee moaning very shortly as his hands caressed her back and ass, his lips soft on hers and his tongue teasing her mouth. Jerry broke the kiss and hugged her tightly. "Come on, I'm hungry as a wolf all of a sudden. Anyway, today is the start of your brand new shiny life and I'm the happiest man alive to share it with you." Dee smiled and stepped out of the shower. She held a towel out to Jerry and whispered, "And I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you." She laughed and added as she picked up another towel, "I think I can even go back in the kitchen to cook us breakfast." "No, we will do that just like we will do everything from now on, together and probably naked," Jerry said with a wink. Dee smiles softly. "I'll have to remember to close those kitchen blinds in that case," she whispered as she took his hand too lead him out of the bathroom and into their new life together.