0 comments/ 83609 views/ 3 favorites Annabell By: Stephan I woke up and saw the bright sunlight was coming from the wrong side of my bed. The reason was because it wasn't my bed, or my bedroom. I was also aware of a wonderful hard-on and a hand playing with it. But it wasn't my hand. "About time you woke up and resumed your manly duties," a female voice said next to me. I turned and looked into the large brown eyes of Annabell, one of the single or divorced women I service as the "Private Dick" in the apartment complex in which I live. My sleepy brain was starting to remember the afternoon and evening of sucking and fucking we had enjoyed yesterday. A very memorable time was had by all as I was starting to recall. I smiled at her. "Good morning, you sweet cunt. What's for breakfast?" She frowned in her delightful way and said, "The only breakfast you're going to get from this cunt is my tit's and my ass." "Sound's delightful," I told her as I threw my leg over her legs, still clad in the sexy sheer nude thigh-high stockings from the night before. "Hang on," she said as I reached for one of her ample tit's and pushed my hard cock down on her smooth belly. "What for? I want my breakfast." "But it's my bed and my menu," she protested with a laugh. "I thought the menu was tit's and ass. Your wonderful tit's and your damp, aromatic ass. You know how much I like your ass-hole with that wonderful stink of yours." It was true. Annabell's shit was different from the other women who all had to let me in their back door. Maybe it was because Annabell was one of the best chefs in town and was known for the exotic dishes she prepared in one of our finest restaurants. I learned as a kid you could tell what a person ate by the smell of their shit. She kept trying to push me off her naked body, smelling of stale sweat and pussy from last night but I managed to get a hard nipple in my mouth and was starting to chew on it when she said she wanted to try something different! Now I'm always willing to try something different in the art of The Sweet Fuck and so I let her nipple slide out of my mouth. She slid off the sex stained sheets and I watched as she swayed her sweet, firm ass out of the bedroom. Her bedroom was bright with sunlight and my erect cock was nicely stiff and my balls refilled with a load of thick cum we were both going to enjoy in a few minutes or I was going to follow her and put it into one of her holes no matter what she was planning! I was enjoying my nights rest and the aroma of her bedroom, a perfume that mixed her personnel scent with the smell of our sweat and the stale aroma of good sex and damp sweat soaked sheets when she came back into the room, her heavy tit's swaying delightfully. My attention went from her large, hard nipples and the sweet cleft between her legs to the pair of scissors in her hand. "Come on, now. I wasn't that bad last night" I said. I knew I had been damn good because Annabell was a great piece of ass and she really knew how to fuck a man and get the last drop from his balls. And the way she had been moaning and groaning I knew my cock, mouth and hands had done a good job giving her climax after climax. "You said last night I was trying to wear out both of your fuck-holes, remember?" She stopped beside the bed, a look of surprise on her small, round face. Some strands of her dark brown shoulder length hair had fallen into her eyes and she brushed them away, her tit's giggling as she looked at me. "What? Oh, the scissors! Don't worry, dear, you're still my "Private Dick", the best fucker I've had in years. You're dick is wonderful and you how to use it as all the girls say. I'm not going to cut it off! I'm going to do something delightful for both of us," she laughed. She put the scissors on the bed and slowly rolled down the stocking on her left leg, doing a sexy grinding of her hips, pushing them at me as she hummed the theme from "The Stripper" and keeping my cock rock hard as she knew it would. She pulled the stocking off her foot with a last thrust of her hips and I was ready to unload my wad into the air. She shook out the thigh-high by the toe and then took the scissors and cut the foot off, throwing the rest over her shoulder. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked. "It's a shame, really," she said, looking at the thin black material that was all that was left of the sexy stocking. "I love expensive hose but this will be worth it," she said, twirling the small piece of nylon in the air as she smiled at me with a hip thrust out. "I liked it better on your leg," I told her. "I know you do. And that's all you want me to wear when you're over here." "Those are the rules for all my women," I reminded her. "I know. And I like your rules. But I know a better use for this right now." "And what's that?" "You're going to wear it." I've worn nylons before and found them sexy, especially when the woman wanted to wrap her nylon covered legs around my stockinged legs as I humped her to a wonderful climax. A man will do whatever it takes to get his hard dick into a tight, wet cunt. I even wore a pair of crotch-less panties when a woman said it was the only way I was going to get my cock in her ass-hole. They were lime green with black lace and I still have them in my special dresser drawer. "It looks a little small for my big foot," I laughed. She smiled like a little girl. "Maybe for your foot, dear, but not your thick dick." "My dick?" I said. I wasn't really surprised. Annabell was always looking for something new to try in her kitchen, or her bedroom, or bathroom or living room! She especially liked her third floor terrace during a light summer rain. I liked it too but I had a time trying not to slide off her rain slick body last month. My hard-on was starting to hurt and I had to fuck her soft, curvy, fragrant body again, so ... "I saw it in the sex video I just got from the club I subscribe to and it really looked like fun and that's the menu. I want you to fuck me wearing this on your cock." I stretched out on the bed, spreading my legs, my hard cock stretched over my stomach, my dick-hole looking me in the eye and asking when it was going to gush a load of hot cum again. "Why don't we watch the fuck film first, you know, to get the technique right." "It will be a lot more fun learning on the job," she smiled, twirling the stocking foot again. The wide black welt of the sheer thigh-high nylon still encasing her left leg, just under her dark, wet, pussy hair, made my balls tingle. The perfume of sex was filling the air again and my dick-hole was going to be rewarded! She was right of course, as she always was in her bedroom. "Set the table, sweetie." She laughed as she climbed on the bed, straddling my legs and said, "Rubber bands will keep it on you and you won't lose it in me." Her heavy round tit's were hanging down and brushing my stomach as she leaned over and french-kissed me, sucking my tongue hard. I sucked in her tongue and saliva as my cock began to hurt with its need! "Rubber bands? Not to tight or this may not end the way I like it. And lose it in you? As tight as your pussy is?" She laughed again. "Thank you, dear. I know I'm tighter then most of the cunt you fuck around here. I'll bet you tell that to those wet pussies when you've got your meat in them." "You bet I do!" She giggled. "We female's have a greater need then you men do. I'm thirty-eight and I need cock more now then I did when I was a horny fourteen year old!" I tried to imagine her as a horny fourteen year old, her young pussy lips wet and open between her spread legs as I slid my fourteen year old cock into her and popped her cherry! And what was this crap that a woman needed sex more then a man? I got my first pussy when I was twelve and spending the summer with my thirty six year old widowed Aunt Jayne while my parents were on the West Coast. It was a hot July day when in the middle of the kitchen she bent over, pulled up her skirt and slip and showed me her delightful love-holes and long, stockinged legs! Then she invited me in! My lesson's lasted all summer, but that's another story! I've been a "Cunt Hound" ever since, and would be until I died. I'll probably be buried with a hard-on and all ready for a wet pussy in the next world! She pulled the nylon over the head of my erect dick and I shivered in delight and almost emptied my balls as she pulled it down over my nuts. She slipped the rubber bands over my balls to my cock root and snapped them closed. I jumped with the pain and she laughed. "You'll pay for that," I told her. "I hope so," she said, crabbing my cock. She leaned over and a tasty tit with a hard nipple was pushed into my face and I was sucking on it and using my teeth to nip it and make her feel the slight pain. I pushed a finger up and down the length of her pussy lips and she began to moan. I pushed the finger into her cunt and she was wet and ready. Maybe while waiting for me to wake up she was thinking of the night before and the morning of fun to follow. Thinking of my hard cock deep in her pussy or, the way she really liked it, when we were struggling to get it up her moist and smelly shit-hole! She was moaning louder as I pushed my finger in and out of her, going deeper into her pussy with each push of my finger. She moaned louder as I starting using two fingers and chewed her nipple harder. My cock was as stiff as it could get and I had to get it deep into her wet cunt. Being the great fucker Annabell was, she sensed just when a man needed his hard cock surrounded by hot female flesh. She took my stiff cock in her hand and, lifting her leg up, she guided me to the entrance of her love-hole. She roughly pushed the head of my dick into her and slowly lowered herself down onto my cock, pushing it up into her tight twat. The smooth nylon material was a pleasantly rough feeling to her pussy walls and she smiled down at me as she lowered herself down to my balls. My entire nylon covered cock was now deep inside her tight cunt. Her ample pussy juice soaked the nylon and my cock and was enough so the thin sexy material was smooth to my sensitive dick head. We started a slow rhythm as she moved up and down on my dick, pushing it into her and then letting it slide back out to the base of the head and then pushing it back into her. The rhythm increased as our excitement rose and the rough/smooth nylon increased the friction along the length of my cock. The head of my dick slipped out of her and I threw her down onto the bed and mounted her. The nylon was soaked with her juice and I slid my dick back into her as she wrapped her legs around me. It was better then a ribbed rubber and better then nothing at all, which is my usual way of fucking. It was a different idea but not that unusual when you think of it. I'm sure women have always thought of different things to put up their pussies for pleasure, from banana's to beer bottles and maybe even the handle of a crusader's sword. Why not a nylon stocking covered cock? I thought it was a great idea and showed my gratitude to Annabell by trying to push my cock up into her stomach. I was humping her as hard as my tired back would let me, the nylon causing a warmth to flow along my cock and balls and into my stomach. She was matching me thrust for thrust, arching her back as her moans slowly grew to the climatic scream she was known for when she reached her orgasm. I was biting her neck and I couldn't hold it back any longer and my balls gushed out a stream of cum and I increased my humping to get every drop as deep into her as I could and also to empty my balls of the thick cream a woman wants and needs. She screamed in my ear as she came almost at the same time and went limp as she climaxed. But I still had to hump her as the friction from the nylon on my cock was wonderful and I didn't want it to stop. She encouraged me by calling me her best fucker and a real cocksman and telling me to keep going, keep going, damn it! And it helped because I came a second time, something I almost always do, which is one of the reasons I get as much free pussy as I do. But I said Annabell was one of the best lays in the complex and she proved it again. And I liked the idea of the "Nylon Fuck" as we called it after that first time. I highly recommend it! She moaned as I slowly pulled my still hard cock out of her dripping pussy and we lay on the damp sheets as we caught our breath, the air of the bedroom refreshed with the heavy, pleasant aroma of sweat, pussy, shit, and good sex. "I'll buy you a dozen pair of nylon's so we never run out of them for this great way of fucking," I told her as a squeezed a full tit. She was panting, trying to catch her breath. "It was great, wasn't it! I'll take them. But buy the high tops. No sense wasting good stockings just for the foot." "I'll buy them anyway. I like to see you in them. And nothing else. "I know you do," she smiled as she placed my other hand between her legs. I slowly pushed two fingers in and out of her wet fuck-hole as she closed her eyes and smiled. My cock was starting to rise again and a drop of cum squeezed from my dick-hole and through the nylon onto her sweaty thigh. But Annabell wasn't finished serving breakfast in such a delightful way! She sat up and smiled at me and then leaned down and took my slowly hardening dick into her mouth and began to suck the trapped cum through the black nylon and a the remaining few drops of cum out of my dick. My balls were empty and we both knew it but her tit's were still as delectable as yesterday and when she pulled the nylon off my cock with her teeth, she pushed a hard nipple into my mouth and ordered me to suck it. I knew Annabell and her needs and I chewed her nipple until she pulled it out of my mouth, mock swearing at me that I was too rough! "I know what you like," I told her with a smile. "You sure do. Do the other one." And she pushed her other tit at my face. I was more rough this time and she moaned as she lay back down on the bed on her stomach, spreading her sexy legs, and I mounted her again. My pussy juice and cum wet dick slid up her shit-hole with little trouble this time. I didn't come this time but Annabell didn't mine as I humped her ass, so I didn't feel as if I let her down. My balls needed a rest anyway. After she hit her climax and I pulled my softening cock out of her ass-hole, I left her on the bed with her eyes closed and a small smile on her face and went into the bathroom. It was a good thing my cock was limp as I had to take a wonderful piss! When you piss with a hard-on it can get pretty messy, unless you want it to be. And some of my women want it to be as messy as possible, but only in the shower stall. A Golden Shower can be fun and I recommend it after a good stocking fuck! Her eyes were still closed and she slowly spread her legs as she heard me pad back into the bedroom. "Everything come out all right?" she asked, and her smile grew as she played with her pussy lips. "My balls or my bladder?" I asked, also smiling. The sight of her on the bed, her legs spread, one still encased in the black thigh-high stocking, her fuck-hole an open and delightful invitation, was lovely! "I know how you can empty your balls," she laughed. "I mean your bladder, of course. Have a good pee?" "Wonderful. Why didn't you help?" "And mess up my bathroom?" And she laughed again. "Now it's my turn. And you can help. I can't shoot my pee all over like you can." "And I'm glad you can't," I said. "We poor females have to squat to pee," she said, opening her eyes and looking at my limp dick. "And a very pretty sight it is," I told her. "I hope so. I'll get that lovely thing of yours hard again for you, but you have to help." We went into the bathroom and I hurried her along by playfully slapping her ass, pulling on her stocking top and pushing my hands between her ass cheeks which she protested in an equally playful tone. She sat on the rim of the bathtub, her feet inside the tub, delightfully spread her legs and said, "You men have to piss. But I'm a lady and we ladies pee. So be a gentlemen and help this lady pee." I knew what she wanted and got into the tub, on my knees in front of her, my hands on her knees, bent down and began to lick her smelly pussy, the wonderful aroma of her filling my head. She leaned back on her elbows, arching her back and, thrusting her large tit's at the ceiling and started to moan. After the bottle of wine last night her bladder was full and she let it empty into my face. I pulled my face back and watched as a stream of golden female pee arched into the air and fell right onto my growing cock. She smiled as she watched her pee "wash" my stiffening meat. "I told you I'd get you hard again," she said, her voice low and husky. "You always can," I told her truthfully as the warm pee splashed off my cock and stomach and legs and flowed down my balls and dripped from my ass-hole into the tub. I had to taste her and so I put my face into the warm, golden stream and drank as much as I could until her bladder emptied! Her smile grew as she watched my dick grow larger and stiffer. "I knew you had more fucking in you, darling. One of the prettiest dicks I've ever enjoyed. And I know how to get it hard." "When you just look at my dick I get hard," I told her, because it was true. "I know, dear, but I like it much better this way, and so do you, my fucker." She was right. I'd piss off the roof of the building in full view of the other residents if it got me between those wonderful legs and up her wet pussy or her tight shit-hole! And the way my dick felt and by the heavy, sexy look in her dark eyes I knew I was going to be doing one or the other very soon. She cupped my face in her hands and slowly licked her pee off my face, chest and then my cock and balls. I used my teeth to slowly pull the remaining stocking down her leg, kissing, sucking and biting her piss-wet inner thigh. Then I took her toes into my mouth and sucked them as she reached down between her legs and played with her pussy lips again as she arched her back and those wonderful tit's pointed upward. I pulled her hand away as she was about to push a finger into her pussy and pushed my finger into her, feeling her gripping my finger instinctively, trying to hold it in. I slipped two fingers into her, then three, and finger fucked her as she moaned again and moved her hips back and forth on the tub rim. I slid closer on my knees on the piss-wet tub bottom, up between her legs and she reached down and enfolded my dick in her hand and jacked me off as she came again, her body shacking with her pleasure. My thick cum shot into the air and fell back onto her legs and my stiff cock, and her hand still jacking me off. As we both came down from another good fucking, she opened her eyes and smiled at me with a dreamy look. She released my cock and sucked my cum off her hand, continuing to smile at me. "And people think the only way to fuck is with you lying on top of me," she said as she sucked my cum off her fingers. I leaned down and took a long suck on her pussy, tasting the juice of a mature, sexy woman in heat. It was mingled with her pee and the aroma of her stretched ass-hole was too much and I took both legs and, not to gently, pushed them up until she was forced onto her back on the wide rim of the tub, her arms spread wide, and I started to lick her ass- hole. The mingled, savory aroma of her wet pussy, the pee dripping down her legs and her damp dirt-hole smelling of her delightful shit was filling my head and I had to suck her. I opened my mouth and tried to engulf her entire ass- hole with my mouth. I tried to push my tongue into her shit- hole and I heard her laughing. "Go honey! Go! God, it feels good! Fucking good!" I knew she was lost in pleasure and I knew she had a finger in her pussy because I could feel it as I tried to take her entire shit-hole in my mouth. She liked back-door fucking and doing it doggy-style and I knew she was enjoying this but I didn't care because I was hot with her female smell and female flesh and the feeling of my still hard cock and I was going to make the bitch make me come again if it took all year! Annabell I love the smell of a woman. If she's fully dressed or totally naked, like Annabell now, I could always smell her. If she was hot to fuck I could smell her throught her closes, from down the hall, across the street, like a female-finding radar. That's part of the reason I'm the apartment complex's "Private Dick". I always know when a woman needs a hard cock and my hard cock is always ready to service a needy woman. But when a woman was like Annabell now, dripping in her own piss and pussy juice and almost reeking with the wonderful aroma of her shit, I just have to empty my balls! And Annabell wouldn't be one of my fuck partners if she didn't also know it. She laid her legs on my shoulders and kept telling me to come, baby, come! My dick was as hard as when I woke up and my balls let go as I hungrily sucked her ass-hole and a few drops shot out of my dick-hole onto the tub rim. It was just a few drops, not the thick, heavy cum I gave her the first time yesterday afternoon, but a watery, thin cum that was almost embarrassing! But it was enough because the release was the same. I gave her ass-hole a good licking as my cock went limp and she sighed with pleasure and let her legs open and slide down my arms and I licked and sucked her open fuck-hole. "Oh, baby, don't stop," she sighed, her voice horse. I looked up between her open legs and her two large tit's, her eyes closed in pleasure. I stood up and turned on the faucet and let the water warm and closed the shower door. When the water was warm I turned on the shower and let the water wash over us and wash the piss down the drain. I sat beside her on the rim. She was still on her back, her tit's pointing at me. It was to much and I took a hard nipple in my mouth and slid my hand down her legs, squeezing them. "Didn't you get enough?" she sighed. I let her tit slide out of my mouth long enough to say, "I never get enough of a sexy cunt like you," and took her other tit in my mouth. "Thank you, darling. But I'm beat. Can we go to bed?" "I thought that was the idea when we made this date," I said. "I mean to sleep, you silly fucker," she laughed. We took a nap for several hours after a shower and after I helped her get into a fresh pair of sheer, tan thigh-high stockings which I insisted she put on if she wanted to keep my interest. She told me she had a lot more fun things to keep up both my interest and my cock. I told her my balls were empty and she smiled and told me it was because she was the best fucker of all the women I serviced in the complex. I told her it was because she had the best smelling and best tasting ass-hole in the complex and we fell asleep with my head next to her ass so I could dream about licking, sucking and fucking Annabell's delightful love-hole's until we woke up and started the fun again. Annabelle Annabelle woke up disgusted. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the alarm clock on the raggedy nightstand. The time was five-o-three a.m. She lay back, exasperated. Beaten. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead before closing her eyes again. She looked over at her husband and cringed. Then she started to cry. Recent Past Annabelle was sixteen when she married Fred. He was twenty-one. At the time, she thought she loved him. When she found out she was pregnant, her parents decided they had to get married. As time went on, she realized that Fred was not the man she thought he was. He had gained close to a hundred pounds since they had married; he drank like a fish; and had been unemployed since they had married five years earlier. She would have left him, but their son was born with a debilitating disease that left him partially deaf and cripple. Present She finally got out of bed and went to check on her son. He opened his eyes when he felt her by his bedside. She changed his clothes and fed him before getting in the shower. She turned on the radio to hear the morning news events. She stepped into the shower and scrubbed her skin. She didn't know why she scrubbed her skin so hard. She shampooed her thick, brown hair and put it up into a ponytail. Just then a voice came over the radio and announced that the whole area was to prepare for a severe blizzard and it went on to warn people to stay indoors. She put on her blue apron, grabbed her coat and went on to work. Later “What’s wrong?" asked Florine, a waitress who worked with her. Annabelle just looked at her. Then she started to sob uncontrollably. “My whole life is just one big sham," she explained through tears. Florine had worked in the diner for over twenty years. Her reddish colored hair was piled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Her make-up was applied much too thick. She was constantly reapplying her ruby red lipstick that made her look about ten years older than she really was. Florine popped another piece of gum while she listened intently to Annabelle's story. Annabelle told her about everything. About Fred's drinking, the other women and the verbal and physical abuse. "There's always room at my trailer if you decide to leave that pig," offered Florine. “Thank you so much," cried Annabelle. “Not to be nosy, but what happened to your parents?" “They don't wanna get involved. Can you believe that? They made us get married and now they don't want to interfere." Florine moved closer to try to console her friend. “Have you eaten anything today dear?" she asked as she wiped her sweaty palms against her greasy apron. Annabelle sat in a booth by the window. She dried her tears and watched the continuous fall of snow while she tried to contemplate things. She wondered how she could leave her husband and her sickly son behind. Just then, Florine brought her a plate of food. “Here. You take a break and just relax sugar. It ain't too crowded, I can handle the crowd for a while." said Florine. “You’re always so sweet to me." said Annabelle. She picked up her fork and began to mush her food around on her plate. She tried to eat the burned sausage and the over salted eggs. They kind of tasted like cardboard to her. She went to ladies room, removed the flask from her purse and took a swig of vodka. She closed her eyes tightly before rinsing off her face and drying it on a hard paper towel. She then popped a piece of gum and went back to work. “Well, you're certainly looking better." lamented Florine. “I feel better. I just needed to get that off my chest. I just need to get away. At least for a little while." It was snowing even harder when Annabelle got off work. She was looking forward to a hot bath and maybe having a few drinks before going to bed early. She stared out the window of the bus wondering if her life would have been different without Fred and her son Brian. She could at least go back to school. She had taken a few classes at a junior college before Fred made her stop. She thought about moving to the west coast. She had about two thousand dollars saved up that Fred didn't know about. She could just leave and he was too lazy to bother looking for her. She decided that at the end of the week, she would leave Brian with Fred and try to start a new life for herself. She would finally be free. Annabelle walked into her dilapidated apartment. It was freezing. She cringed every time she looked at the dingy green curtains. They were torn, tattered and dirty. They smelled of cigarettes and had burn holes in them. The walls were tinged brown, and the carpet was old and smelled mildewy. “Fred!" she called. "Brian, mommy's home." There was no reply. She found that strange since usually Fred would be on his second six-pack at this time asleep in the chair. She also noticed that Brian's wheelchair was gone. For a moment she got excited. She held on to the hope that one day Fred would leave her. She found a note pinned on the refrigerator. It read: Annabelle, we went to the boiler room to try and fix the heat. Have my food ready when I get back. Fred. She made herself a steaming cup of cocoa before realizing they had been gone a long time. " Guess I should go make sure they're not locked in." she said to herself. She grabbed her coat and trudged down to the boiler room. There was no one in the hall. She tried the door, but it appeared to be jammed. She pushed a little harder and the door opened. She saw her husband and her son. Fred was on the floor and Brian was in his wheelchair. They had both froze to death. Annabelle screamed. She ran upstairs. Panicky. Should she call the cops? She didn't know what to do. Then an idea formed in her head. " I'm finally fuckin' free!" she exclaimed. She grabbed a suitcase and started tossing clothes and pictures inside. She was laughing and crying at the same time. She couldn't believe her luck. For a brief moment she felt bad about her son. She sat on his bed and cried. She cried for Brian, she cried for herself, but mostly, she cried for the person she used to be and everything that she had lost. She picked up her son's favorite blanket. She decided she should at least go cover up her son's lifeless body. She went back down to the boiler room and covered up her son. She leaned over him and kissed him on his forehead. Annabelle stood up to leave and realized that she too was locked inside. She screamed for help and kicked the door to no avail. She knew she was trapped. She also knew there was no point in trying anymore, so she lay next to her son and died three hours later. With her family. Annabelle Diesel fumes hung over the trailer park like a cloud, courtesy of Interstate 95, as the tractor trailer convoys rumbled through the night. It was as close to hell on earth as Mike Stone could ever have imagined, yet here he was... Corporate downsizing during this infinite recession had robbed him of a cushy advertising job. Just two years out of college, he had neither the experience nor the contacts to survive. The unemployment checks had run out, and he was forced to go to plan Z. Sharing the smelly run down trailer with him was his wife, his college sweetheart, Annabelle. She was the only daughter of a Memphis minister and the love of his life. He had nabbed her at a fraternity mixer as a freshman, before she had blossomed. At 18, Annabelle had a short bob hairdo, mousey glasses, an overabundance of pimples, a plump ass, but a beautiful personality. Mike instantly recognized from their first real conversation, as she batted her eyelashes, that she was shy and sweet and had an angelic face. Mike had been on the swim team in high school and had a well developed chest and arms, to go along with his charm and dimples. As he handed her that first cup of punch, touching her arm in the crowded living room, Annabelle knew that Mike was the one. Her skin tingled and her lips pulsated as they shouted to each other over the beats. Dates followed. Conversation flowed about politics, religion, sex, the future, and the second Mike put his tongue on Annabelle's clitoris, she was certain that they would be together forever. Shortly after graduation they became involved in a ritualistic ceremony which involved swearing absolute fidelity to one another and licking icing off each other's face. Later that night wearing only a white veil, Annabelle screamed, "Sweet Jesus! Fuck me.....harder....fuck.....me!" as her toes pointed towards the ceiling. Mike Stone was a hard worker, an achiever, and Annabelle knew her future was secure. His advertising job in the big city allowed them to rent a beautiful condo in suburbs, drive new cars, and play with the latest electronic devices. They ate out every night and spent their evenings visiting with friends or leisurely making love. Annabelle became a beautiful woman. Contacts, skin creams, and hours at the gym had transformed her body. She let her honey blond hair grow out, so that it now cascaded halfway down her back. In Mike's eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. They talked of starting a family. They were deeply in love. And their wonderful idyllic life disappeared in an instant. ------------------------------------------------------------- The true measure of a person's character is the way they handle adversity, and Mike searched frantically to find another job. Nobody was hiring, as consumers held on tightly to every dollar in the dying economy. He applied everywhere, but the advertising job market was dead. Finally, as their money ran out, he took a part time job in a warehouse driving a forklift for $10.50 an hour. He didn't care, money was money and he and Annabelle needed to survive. There would be no welfare or food stamps for Mike Stone and his bride. Annabelle was supportive at first, but as the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into years, she became depressed and bitter. She took a part time job as a cashier at a local department store to help, but hated it. Dealing with the public all day tried her patience, and in the evenings she was short with Mike. They started to argue about small things. She remembered her Great Grandmother talk about how they "lived on love" during the depression. Annabelle was not, as many of her generation, mentally or emotionally prepared to live with less. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The trailer reeked of bug spray and bleach. Build in the 1960's, its seals broken, its faucets dripping; the trailer was home to not only Mike and Annabelle, but a parade of cockroaches. Splotches of blood lined the walls and ceiling from smashed flies and mosquitoes, making the trailer seem like a giant Rorschach test. Annabelle's hands were constantly wrinkled and red from a chlorine rash, the result of wiping down the kitchen and bathroom and walls every day. Mike continued to search for something better and listened endlessly and patiently to his wife's complaints. "She's absolutely right," he thought, "I did promise her a good life. I've let her down." At night he held her close in the stale air of the ramshackle trailer, the vibrations from the Interstate shaking the ill fitting windows. "I'm sorry." he told her a thousand times and then told her again. "Somehow, someway, we'll make it out of here, I promise," he whispered in the dark. They stripped themselves of almost all modern conveniences in order to try to make ends meet. The television had rabbit ears. Communication was a land line with an answering machine. There was no computer, no cable, no internet, no cell phones, no dishwasher, no washing machine, no dryer, no microwave. They lived on ramen noodles, generic brands of spaghetti and sauce, and Food Club tomato soup. Mike was determined no matter how poor they were to keep his Mr. Coffee. Caffeine was too important when you had to work multiple jobs to survive. The only thing that Annabelle insisted on was a night out, one time every week. "I need to escape this hellhole once in a while," she begged, "I need to feel like we still have a life." Mike nodded in understanding looking deep into her eyes. "I need something to look forward to...," she cried in his arms. So in spite of the financial hardship, every Tuesday they dressed up and hit the town. A restaurant, a dance club, a bowling alley, an art gallery, Mike didn't care as he tried desperately to keep Annabelle's spirits up. But as any observant husband could tell, she was slowly slipping away... At the beginning of the third year, Mike was working 3 part time jobs totaling almost 80 hours each week. His work ethic and commitment to Annabelle were unwavering. He had almost saved enough to escape the trailer park and move into a decent apartment. It was going to be his anniversary surprise to his wife. Work and sleep. Work and sleep. Work and sleep. But their sex life suffered greatly. Where once there had been affection and passion, the few hours they spent in bed together, Annabelle would silently listen to Mike snore in the darkness. Some days they would barely speak to each other unless to say a strained "I love you" as they passed. "We need to go out. I NEED to go out. We haven't been out in four Tuesdays, Mike. Please, please, please don't be late. I'm going to lose it if we don't get out, baby," she sobbed as he got dressed for work. "I know, honey, I know. I'll be home by 7:00pm. Be ready to go," as he gently kissed her cheek and she was alone again in the trailer with the red polka dot walls and ceiling. -------------------------------------------------------------- "Mike, I've got three extra trucks coming in tonight. There are about 6 extra hours of work, do you want them?" the warehouse foreman asked. "Can I use the office phone to call Annabelle? She's expecting me home by 7:00pm..." "Sure, no problem." Mike phoned the trailer, but there was no answer so he left a message on the recorder explaining his dilemma. Annabelle was in the shower getting ready for their night on the town. As she soaped her body and lathered her hair, she daydreamed of Thai food and dancing. -------------------------------------------------------------- The trailer was dark as Mike arrived home at 11:43pm in his beat up 1984 Chevy pickup. Flicking on the light, the first thing he noticed was not the roaches scattering on the kitchen counter, that was normal, but the white 8"x 11" sheet of paper lying on the table. Its words were clear, "I told you I needed to go out! I told you not to be late! It's 9 o'clock. Fuck you and fuck this life!" Mike stared at the paper for minutes, his mind and body numb from the 14 hour shift. Annabelle had broken, and now all that was left to do was survey the damage. The red light from the answering machine was blinking. She had not gotten his message. He hit the button to play back his words, hoping he had explained the situation properly. Beep. "Honey, they want me to work an extra 6 hours tonight and we could really use the overtime. Would you mind if we went out tomorrow night instead? Call me right back! Love you!" (Click) "This message was recorded at 5:12 pm." A second message came on as Mike stared at the machine. Beep. "Hi! Mike?" Annabelle slurred, "I'm at Club Euphoria dancing. Guys are actually buying me drinks right and left. (Giggle) I'm having a ball, actually, I think I'll be having two balls a little later, and possibly four. (Giggle) Don't wait up for me honey, not that you normally could anyway...I hope the extra fifty bucks was worth it.......Here, talk to him..." A deep baritone voice spoke next, "Don't worry, Mikey, I'm gonna take real good care of your wife tonight." (Click) "This message was recorded at 10:18 pm." Mike slumped back in his chair as the tears trickled down his face. ------------------------------------------------------------- The brakes from a taxicab squealed in the night as it stopped in front of the trailer at 3:46am. Fifteen minutes later, Annabelle had managed to open the door and stumble inside. Her platform wedge caught the edge of the sofa and she fell to the floor unconscious. Mike sat silently in his recliner looking down upon his wife. Annabelle had worn her UV glow neon pink tube dress. During the fall, the stretchy Lycra material had hitched up her hip, exposing her swollen pussy and her bright red ass. Cum oozed from both holes. Her beautiful honey blond hair was caked and matted. Her neck had teeth impressions. Lipstick was smeared across her face. Patches of brown marked her lower back and legs. Annabelle reeked badly, not just of sex and alcohol and pot, but of shit. Mike stared down at his wife and openly wept. She had broken her promise to him, yes, but who could blame her? How could he have failed to realize how much she needed his attention? What kind of pathetic life had he given her? His guilt overwhelmed him. "Yes," Mike thought to himself, "She has broken her promise to me, but I also broke my promises to her. I promised to take care of her, and I promised to get her out of this hellhole, and I've failed her. I've failed her!" Taking the deepest breath of his life he steeled his resolve, "But, my love," he spoke out loud, breaking the silence of the trailer, "I will fail you no more." He walked to the bathroom and picked out the oldest towel, before returning to the living room to scoop up Annabelle. Taking her in his arms, as he had done some 4 ½ years earlier on their honeymoon, he carried her outside, down to the edge of the trailer park. He gently laid her passed out body on top of the piles of rotting garbage in the dark green dumpster. The air was chilly so he returned to the trailer to grab the comforter from their bed and covered her body as dew started forming in the early pre-dawn hour. "Sleep well, my love, sleep well." he whispered in her ear, and with a sense of relief, he headed back to trailer. The alarm clock was beeping and the coffee was brewing, and after a 10 minute shower, he got dressed to head out for his last day on the forklift. He was content, he was at peace, he had finally kept his promise to his wife. He had set her free. Air brakes roared on the green and yellow Waste Management truck as it rounded the turn into the trailer park. Mike shifted his truck into drive and drove off toward the rest of his life. Annabelle This is the conclusion. I am sure there are some errors I am still new to writing, however I am looking an editor for future submissions. This is part three may not make sense if you have not read the previous chapters. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. * As my week drug by, I busied myself with preparing the gallery for the show. But thoughts of Annabelle flooded my mind. I couldn't release the feeling of having to have her. Jennie had called earlier in the week to interrogate me on my intentions, she knows me better than anyone. Apparently Annabelle had told her of our night together and couldn't stop going on about how sweet I was and what a good friend I had turned out to be at their brunch. I simply shrugged off her warnings of not wanting me to get hurt since she knew Annabelle and she had never give her any indication that this could possibly end well for me. She ended our conversation by letting me know that she knew very well when I set my mind to something there was no stopping me. And my mind was set. I called Annabelle to confirm that I was picking her up for her private viewing before the show and festivities began, she still had no clue that it was my gallery. She simply replied she couldn't wait, and the butterflies flew circles in my stomach. I took the morning off to prepare myself for the evening. After my morning run with Mud I was regretting that decision. Father time was playing a cruel joke on me and refused to move at all. Finally after a seriously needed self release I decided to get ready for my date. Dressing in a pair of fitted slacks and a button down shirt, I changed and put on my faded out blue jeans that I knew fit just right and just where they needed to and threw on a favorite band tee. Figuring I could change after we got there I text Annabelle and asked her to wear pants and if she wanted she could also change before everyone arrived. Pulling the Harley out of the garage I set on my way to get the girl of my dreams. As I pulled up the drive I saw her waiting for me with mouth dropped open. God she was gorgeous. She decided to go with dress slacks that grip her butt just right and a low cut blouse that showed off her perky C breast in a way that made me want to rip those clothes from her body here and now. Instead I offered her a hand onto the back of my bike. As I get on the bike I relish in the feeling of her arms wrapped around me and her breast pressed against my back. This was going to be a nice ride, but at this moment I knew that my bike rides would never feel complete without her again. As I unlock the door to the gallery the girls are still setting the final touches for the show, and have all been instructed not to say or do anything that will tell her this is my place. She looks at me curiously as everyone speaks to me and no one questions my arrival or my attire. I simply shrug off her questioning looks and begin my tour taking her from exhibit to exhibit explaining the uniqueness and some background of every artist. "You talk about the artist like you know them personally." She finally states halfway thru the show. As we come to my collection she stops at a picture of Mud running by the river down at the cabin I had took one day on a cloudy afternoon. "I am going to go get changed before everyone starts showing up, why don't you look around a bit and I will meet back up with you here." I said not wanting get caught in this getup at my own party. By the time I got back Jennie had showed up knowing she hadn't said anything since I swore her to secrecy, I was relieved to see her. Just as I was approaching Annabelle looked up from her conversation and her eyes met mine. I melted right there until I felt a hand on my arm. Shit "Fine job you have done here baby." Lane said. Now Lane was a very pretty girl, that I have had the pleasure of getting to know very well. She was smart, funny, gorgeous, and incredible in bed. But no one will ever love Lane as much as she loves herself. We hooked up a couple times a month neither of us wanting anything serious, and I forgot I invited her honestly. As Lane's kiss catches me off guard nothing surprises me more than the look on Annabelle's face. Shooting Jennie a look of pure desperation she comes to my rescue asking Lane if she would join her at one of the other exhibits. God love her. "Is that how all your friends great you?" She asks with a twinge of jealousy in her voice. "That depends, wanna be friends." I say at a failed attempt to lighten the mood. "Look we are old friends, to say that is all we have ever been would be a lie and I don't want to lie to you. However I have not spoken to her since the night I met you, and I don't know why I am telling you this, but" "You don't have to explain yourself to me, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything." She cut me off and disregarded my apology, "Here I want to show you something, can we just enjoy our evening and pretend no one else is here." I asked with my hand extended to shake on it. She surprised me when she took my hand in hers and didn't let go. Everyone else in the room disappeared but her and me. I took her over to one of my favorite pieces and explained why I love it so much, and by the look in her eyes I could tell she felt it too. It was a black and white photo of a homeless girl my friend had shot a while back as part of her 'Desperate American' collection. I told her the story of the girl and how she came to that situation and the experiences my friend had had with her. Her eyes became moist and she laid her head on my shoulder as I talked. We were interrupted from our beautiful moment and realized other people were there as Jennie came to let me know my presence was requested by one of the artist. I mingled as Jennie chatted with Annabelle, catching a glance of her every now and then, almost jealous I had to share her attention. As the event was in full swing people laughing and admiring the art I walked up to Annabelle and put my hand on the small of her back. She turned quickly and relaxed when her eyes met mine. "You must come here a lot to know everyone here and all the artist. I was beginning to think I was going to have to beg Jennie to come watch horrible movies with me later." She said with a smile that let me know she wasn't really upset. "Actually Max does know everyone here." Jennie chimed in then shutting her mouth when I gave her the death stare. "Would you like to get out of here, and go watch horrible movies (horrible movies was an inside joke of ours, making fun of the movies the cable companies felt worthy of rotation) at my place." I asked giving Jennie a side look ensuring she let Annabelle decide for herself. "Yeah that would be great, but I hate for you to miss the party. They say the owner went all out on this tonight." "I'm sure. Why don't we head out and get started on our way home." She grabbed my hand and smiled. I am starting to love how she never ceases to amaze me. If she is doesn't want us to happen she sure is sending the wrong signals. I kiss Jennie's cheek and thank her for everything as we head out the door. My bike is parked out front, we put on our helmets and just as I think I am free and clear, Betty runs out the door wanting to know where I am going and what was she to do if food or alcohol run low. I just yell for her to handle it and start the engine before Annabelle can ask any questions. Betty is a wonderful girl and a great employee, but she is a lot prettier than smart. As we pull up to the cabin Mud hears the bike pulling into the garage and comes running up. "This is the cabin in the photo and that's the dog. Why didn't you tell me you were one of the artist? And wow you must make a good living at it." She asked looking around at the property. "I do ok." The only answer I offered while unlocking the door and showing Mud a little attention. "Is that why the girl was asking you what she should do, because you had an exhibit there tonight." So she had heard her, I was hoping since her helmet was on that she hadn't. Directing her to the couch I figured it was time to come clean. "I need to tell you some things. That was my exhibit but she was asking what to do because I own the gallery. My parents loved the arts any type but blown glass was their favorite. When I was fourteen they got killed in a car accident on the way to pick me up from a friends house, and as I got older I thought there was no better way to honor them than to bring their art to that part of town where I grew up. When I bought the place it was an abandoned warehouse, nothing around it. So some of my friends and I did as much of the reconstruction as we could then I took the last of the insurance money and had a professional finish it. Luckily they also left me with this place, our vacation home from when I was a kid, and a house in the city. It was too painful to be at the house in the city so I sold it and lived off of that while I got the gallery up and going. But I could never part with this place too many good memories and Mud loves it here." "Why didn't you tell me, and why would you leave your own party to come watch movies with me?" Her eyes moist with tears from hearing my sad story. "There is no place I would rather be than right here with you right now." I was honest. I had no problem leaving everyone there and coming home early as long as she was by my side. I leaned in to give her a hug and Mud started whining, jealous dog. "I guess he is hungry can I make you anything I didn't see you eat much there." I asked trying to shift the mood, the last thing I wanted was for her to start pitying me. "I am starved, what are you offering." She said with what I could have swore was a mischievous smirk. I told her I was sure we could find something and led her to the kitchen. Pulling out two beers from the fridge she looked at me questioningly. "Does a cab service come all the way out here?" She asked as I opened mine and took a healthy swallow. "Nope, I thought maybe you could use a another good nights sleep. Or if you would like the keys to any of my cars are right there feel free and I will pick it up tomorrow, but for now lets just enjoy each others company and watch some movies." She nodded and started sipping her beer, she had nothing to worry about I still wasn't comfortable being drunk around her. I knew I wouldn't be able to contain myself, it was hard enough sober. But I was curious how she would feel about spending the night. She seemed to like the idea as far as I could tell. I made her dinner and we chatted. Talking and rambling like we had know each other for years. I would often get lost in her beauty and stare as her perfect pink lips let words flow past. She interrupted my day dreams of making her mine with a giggle. Stating it was starting to get late and we should probably start the movie, I stopped her as she went to turn on the tv. "I need to know before we start the movie, are you staying the night." "I would like to, if that's ok. I just feel more like me when I am with you, I'm not someone's ex-wife or somebody's daughter. I'm just Annabelle and I am happier than I have ever been when you are with me." That was exactly what I wanted to hear and it took everything I had to maintain my last shred of self discipline. "Good, I am very happy that you enjoy my company as much as I do yours. You have a couple options you may sleep on the couch, take your pick of the spare bedrooms. Or you can come lay with me in my bed and I will wrap my arms around you and make sure that you sleep peacefully thru the night." Her eyebrows raised as she pondered her options. I could literally see the confusion on her face and the internal struggle with what she looked like she wanted to and what she was scared to do. When I could bare it no more I stepped closer to her closing the gap between us. I reached my hands to her face caressing her cheek with the pad of my thumb. "I don't want to do anything your not comfortable with, I like you and I would like to be a part of your life. At whatever degree you see fit." She seemed to relax a bit at the softness of my words. That was the effect I was hoping for. She simply smiled at me and laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my neck. I felt it was my move but I knew it was a crucial one and had to be done just right to avoid her withdrawing completely. So I decided to go for the slow and smooth approach. "Why don't we start the movie, we don't need to figure out everything in one night." The whole time I could barely get my voice above a whisper enjoying the feel of my hands sliding up and down her back while she embraced me. As we lie there watching yet another movie I couldn't tell you the name of it or what was going on. All I knew was her body had shifted downward and her head was in my lap, with my arm thrown across her. The slow pattern of breathing hinted that she had drifted off into a peaceful slumber, I turned off the tv and slowly went to wake her by brushing the strands of hair from her beautiful face. She stirred slightly but showed no signs of life. I eased my body from under her wrapped her in a blanket and went to turn off the lights when I heard her call my name. "Are you leaving?" she said softly in that half asleep voice. I knelt down in front of her and continued lightly stoking her face and arms. "No baby, It is late and you fell asleep. I was just going to bed, get some rest and I will see you in the morning." As I turned to walk away I felt her hand grab mine and my heart stopped. "Max, will you hold me, please." she asked as it almost hurt to speak. I never spoke just simply pulled her to her feet and guided her to my room. I grabbed her a long t-shirt to sleep in and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed while she changed. As I walked back into my room the view almost took my breath, here was the girl of my dreams in my shirt about to lay in my bed. My breathing was ragged and I was hoping she couldn't tell. I laid on the bed and motioned for her to come over and within seconds her head was on my chest and she was at peace once again. After countless hours of staring at the ceiling and struggling with my self control I finally drifted off only to wake alone. I walked into the kitchen to find her standing there still in my shirt making coffee and relief flooded my body. I slid in behind her wrapping my arms around her waist and kissed her cheek good morning. "Hey you, I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day." she said with the brightest smile I have ever seen. "Well I was sleeping so good until I felt you were gone, what time is it anyway?" "It's almost noon." "Oh no, I have a meeting at one, I have to get showered and over to the gallery as quickly as possible. I will use the outdoor shower if you want to use the master bath. I can drop you off on my way into town if you would like. But I would like very much to pick you up on my way back and take you to dinner, if that's ok." I hurriedly got my stuff together and we were out the door in record time. I wish I could call off the meeting but it was with one of the biggest art dealers in the city. I dropped her off and made plans to pick her up in couple hours. The meeting ran long and I was drained by the time it was over. "We don't have to go out you know I could make you something here while you relax and take it easy for a while." She is almost too perfect. "I would love that but do you think we could do that at my place, I really haven't been home much lately and Mud is starting to forget my face." So we were off to my house and much to my pleasure she brought an overnight bag 'just in case'. ***** So the next couple months went by and that was our routine. I was falling head over heals for this girl and she was using me as her human body pillow. As she liked to put it. I didn't have any complaints that meant for as long as she slept she was in my arms and safe from the world. She was all mine for as long as the moon shone. Till one day. ***** "Max, Max wake up, Mud is going crazy its midnight and he is barking his head off." She woke me out of a very nice dream where all my dreams were coming true. I got out of bed a bit embarrassed at the light sweat that was covering my body as the visions of things I can only do to her in my dreams still clouded my head. I went to the living room to see what all the fuss was when I found Mud by the door going crazy. "Mud come on boy, calm down, what is it?" as I patted his head he slowly backed up still huffing. I opened the door to find Lane standing on the other side before I could ask what she was doing she fell into me and her lips crashed against mine. "Lane, what the hell? What are you doing here it is midnight and you know better than to come out here without calling." "Max, is everything okay?" oh shit Annabelle. "Who is that and why don't you send her home so we can catch up and make up for you ditching me these past couple months." The sound of lust in her voice was almost enough to break my self restraint. But before I could answer wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into the most passionate kiss my lips had seen in months. "Max, what's going on out here." Annabelle looked at me like I had kicked her puppy. The look on her face had me instantly speechless. It was the same look I had seen when Lane kissed me at the gallery, was it jealousy or betrayal. Did she have more feelings for me than she was willing to admit? I pushed Lane off of me and removed her wandering hands from my body as I turned her to the door explaining that I really needed her to leave and I would call to check on her tomorrow when things calm down. As I watched her pull out the driveway I made my way back to the bedroom to find Annabelle packing her stuff up. "What are you doing, where are you going." I wanted to beg her to stop, beg her to stay but I had to know why she wanted to leave. "I am obviously in your way. I thinks it would be best if we started spending some time apart. I can't keep asking you to put your life on hold for me. What we are doing here isn't fair to either of us. And I won't keep doing this to you or to myself." Her eyes were filled with tears and her hands shaking. I moved to wrap my arms around her and she pulled away from me. "Annabelle, tell me what you felt when you saw her kiss me?" I had to know before she walked out that door if there was any point in me chasing her. "Annabelle if you can tell me that these last couple months have just been about you needing a bedfellow, someone to just hold you at night I will let you walk out that door and not bother you until you see fit. But if you can't honestly tell me you don't feel a slight hint for me of what I feel for you then stay and lets work this out." Her tears were coming in a steady stream and she refused to look me in the eye. I hooked my finger under her chin and bent my neck to connect her lips with mine. At that very moment I heard a moan escape her lips and she melted in my arms. I slowly moved her over to the bed laying her body gently against the mattress. "Annabelle if this isn't what you want please tell me now while I am still able to control myself." With that she lifted her head off the pillow to meet my lips with hers and fireworks went off in my body as I trailed kisses down her cheek to her jaw, nibbling on her ear and down her neck. I slowly lifted her upper body to slide her night shirt over her head and began my attack planting gentle yet deliberate kisses down her chest avoiding her nipples as I made my way down her abdomen. Her hips started to rise and fall in anticipation but I was not done with my worship of the body I have longed for all this time. I made my way back up her chest drawing a nipple in my mouth running my tongue slightly over the edge as I sucked forcefully. This drawled a profanity from the lips I have spent many nights dreaming of. I let my right hand lay lazily on her thigh rubbing her flawless skin with my fingertips. She had erupted into a series of moans and whimpers of inpatients searching for the release she had denied me of for months. As I eased my finger tips up her leg I gently brushed my lips gently across hers. I ran my fingers over the top of her shaven mound and with that she increased the passion, the need of the kiss.