10 comments/ 28245 views/ 9 favorites Judging Art Ch. 01 By: elsanguine Prologue The Reverend Jackson Wilde had been shot in the head, heart and testicles. Right off, Cyrus figured that that was a significant clue. Whoever wanted the Reverend dead certainly did not stop at just emasculating him: Blood was splattered all over the sink and cabinets; collecting in a pool of blood underneath the body. It was messy, but Cyrus figured that messy was clearly an understatement to explain the task following the death of the county's most prominent minister. Clearly his thoughts were leading him towards the start of his search for answers. "What do you think Theo?" In response to his question, Theron Ramirez, pushed his glasses more squarely onto his face. "My initial guess is that the head shot got him. His grey matter is mostly destroyed by the impact of the bullet, which I'm betting was fired at close range. The bullet to his chest missed his heart by a mile and the shot to his balls probably wouldn't have killed him... well not instantly anyway." Theron's grin earned him an enquiring look from the inspector. Cyrus felt sorry for the Reverend. "Do you think his balls were shot before the killing blow or after?" Cyrus asked. "He wasn't dying with a death grip around his balls if that's what you wanted to know. His hands were by his side, see? He probably knew the perpetrator and didn't see it coming." "Most victims hardly do," Cyrus offered. "Time of death?" "Judging from the rigidity in his wrist... I'd call it around 5am or slightly after," Theo replied and as though on second thoughts continued, " And Threadgill, if you want that autopsy report ASAP, you've got to get your ass out of my way and not poke your nose around and bug me for it before I'm done okay?" "Whatever," Cyrus muttered and conducted a visual investigation of the scene. Prints were being dusted for and items were being placed in bags and labeled by the crime scene investigation team. Cyrus spotted his brother examining the carpet for fibers. "Don't let those pesky press in just yet Ciro. I want every damn inch of this house checked." Not waiting for a reply, Cyrus continued to the living room which appeared gloomy with its drawn curtains against the morning sunshine. Huddled in the corner of a Natuzzi sofa was a young redhead woman, her head bent; her face buried in her hands. She was sobbing uncontrollably but it was the slim brunette consoling her that caught his attention. She was tall and slender with wide shoulders which served to accentuate her slim waist. Cyrus caught himself staring at her whiskey coloured eyes as if drowning in its flavor. Feeling himself drawn to her, Cyrus stepped forward and stuck out his right hand. "Cyrus Threadgill, Homicide detective," he introduced. The lady merely glanced, giving him a once over and replied, "Eulalie Duras." Her voice was controlled yet he did not miss the silkily French accent in her voice. No wonder the whiskey eyes, he thought to himself. "This is my sister Sybilla. That is her husband," she said, shrugging her shoulders towards the kitchen. "Mrs. Wilde, if it's okay with you, I need to ask you a few questions," Cyrus began. Sybilla merely looked up meekly at him and in a hoarse voice he could hardly hear, she said, "I think I killed my husband." **** Chapter One Ring!!! The shrill of her phone emanated through the room and invaded her ears albeit rudely. "Damn it... can't a girl even get a nice four hour sleep for once? It's seven in the morning for god's sake!" Trudging around in her bedroom in search for the source of her annoyance, Astraea almost slipped on her cat, who didn't seem happy that it's' tail almost got stripped off. "Ramirez speaking," she managed to mumble. "Astraea, what do you think you're doing at 7 in the morning?" came the reply. "What the...? Hey buster, I just had the worst night shift and for starters, who the hell is this?" she yelled into the phone. "Hey sleepy-head... it's Theron okay? Doesn't your brother deserve a buenos diaz now and then?" "What do you want?" she asked grumpily. "Alright, chill with the crankiness. Well... I'm kinda shorthanded here at the lab. Do you think you can catch the next plane to Dallas?" inquired her brother. "You want me to quit my job, sell my house, pack my bags and go hallelujah with you?" she replied, clearly annoyed. "You're always one for drama, baby sis. How bout this: Does the name Jackson Wilde ring a bell?" Theron offered. "As in THE Reverend Wilde? No... don't tell me you're..." her voice trailed off, hoping she wasn't hearing things. "That's right. Now get your sassy ass here right now. This has just been your new job assignment." Astraea Ramirez hardly misses the opportunity to get her hands on a real autopsy. She wouldn't call her latest trend in examining stroke victims, real work. God help her if she didn't become one. Working with Theron on a major examination such as this would go a long way into her career book. "Do you think Theron would expect me to wear something bubbly or something sassy?" she said to her cat who was still sulking over its rumpled fur. Not long later, Astraea had half her cupboards empty of its content. "I don't know what to wear," she sighed as she began dumping back all the unwanted clothing and finally decided on a business suit, a pair of jeans and boring t-shirts. She doubted that she would have any kind of social life once she's immersed in her lab work; if not, there's never any better reason for shopping in Dallas. **** Astraea stood facing the sliding doors of the terminal and gave a sigh. Going to Dallas would give her two lodging choices- Theron's or her mother's place. Choosing the latter, Astraea made her way to the telephone booth and desperately tried to fish for her telephone book. Trust her to forget to charge her phone batteries. Now they're dead and useless. Finally, with the prize in her hand, she turned to face the telephone, only to find a bob of black curls staring at her. "Hey! I was here first!" she grumbled to herself but loud enough for the culprit to turn. He gave her a wink and continued with his conversation. Ten minutes passed and Astraea got bored of shifting her weight from feet to feet. Her plane would soon be boarding its passengers and she needed to talk to her mother urgently. "Umm, excuse me sir, do you think you could let me use the phone now? I'm sorry to intrude, but there's only one public phone here and I really need to use it urgently." The man raised his eyebrows and eyed her approvingly. She had a lovely sun kissed tone to her skin, almost bronze- like with soft brown eyes and wavy auburn hair tied up hastily into a knot at the back of her head. The plain black and oversized t-shirt did nothing to hide her ample breast from his eyes. She was hot... and currently annoyed at him, which he found strangely amusing. Rounding up his conversation, he hung up and spoke to her. "The name's Travelli. Art Travelli. I don't suppose, you'd like a cup of coffee as compensation for my rudeness... Miss?" Astraea didn't bother to reply him at all. This guy is too damn smooth, she thought as she began dialing. "Hey Mama, it's me, Astraea. Just wanna tell you I'll be staying over for a couple of weeks... No time to explain now... My plane's leaving in about an hour or so, so that gives you around eight hours to clear all that junk you've stored in my room... Love ya mom, can't chat long, bye!" and hung up before her mother had anything more to add. Upon turning around, Astraea found the man leaning against the pillar of the booth. "About that coffee, Miss...?" he said, with a grin that almost made her want to kick him in his gut. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm late," she replied and sped past him even before he could protest; marching towards the security check area. Thirty minutes later... Shuffling past the other passengers to get to the back of the business class, Astraea finally found her seat- only to find it occupied by someone with a pillow over his face. Sighing, she sat beside him and stared out the window. His flight ticket was on his thigh and she saw clearly that they were in each others' seats. Trying to distract herself from her annoyance, she began wondering how Theron was doing. Many said that they never shared any similarities except for their date of birth but she knew otherwise. There were times when she could sense what he was thinking about. Even when she went to work in London, Theron still played a major role in her life. She was suddenly shaken from her daze when the sleeping man's head started to lean unconsciously on her shoulders. "You!" she exclaimed and woke him up from his slumber. Straightening himself and grinning like he did before, he started raking his fingers through his hair and started to reach for her hand. "Wouldn't it be chivalrous of me to give you back your seat now?" "Yes, please. Thank you," came the icy reply as Astraea stood up to exchange seats with him. As they brushed close to each other, she swore she felt soft fluttering fingers trailing over her exposed thighs underneath her skirt. But when she turned to chide him, he was already seated and grinning at her. "I didn't quite catch your name. My name's Art. Nice to meet you," he said. "Astraea... but I do not share those sentiments." "I think we're going to spend a lot of time with each other... so why don't you drop that icy tone? I swear honey; you're a much sexier and hotter that way." Astraea simply rolled her eyes and turned to face the window, grumbling to herself. Sometime later, with the lights dimmed and most of the chatter has died down, Astraea found herself relaxing in her reclined chair. From the corner of her eye, she felt his eyes watching her. Astraea pretended to ignore him. But knowing that his eyes were scanning her body at that moment sent shivers down her spine. "I know you know I'm looking at you..." he whispered. "Astraea..." and his lips touched hers. She knew she shouldn't want this but his soft lips coaxing a response from her were enough to make her moan with lust. She felt his fingers brushing at that sensitive area just under her earlobes and she gave in to his deepening kiss. Suddenly, he broke off his kiss and stared at her. She saw the corners of his sexy mouth curving up into the grin she was beginning to enjoy looking at. Soft curls of black hair were partially covering his eyes and he was beginning to have stubbles on his chin and jaw line. Astraea reached out to trace a finger along his jaw line and watch him draw a sharp breath. "Knew you couldn't resist it babe..." and he covered her mouth once again but this time, more demanding as his tongue sought hers. It was then she felt him parting her thighs and trailing his fingers so softly towards her throbbing pussy. Just the thought of him putting his fingers there to touch her made her wet. But he continued, tracing his fingers in circles along her upper thighs as his lips started exploring her neck. He would nip and kiss tenderly along her collarbone and down to her neckline, daring her to ask for more. Astraea couldn't take it anymore but guided his hands to cup around her pussy, letting him feel her warmth. She could feel his smile against her neck as his fingers played leisurely at the folds of her thongs. "Art... please..." she literally begged as her hips started moving in an upward thrust to desperately meet his fingers. With her mind concentrating on his fingers slowly parting her thong to come in direct contact with her wet cunt, she nearly moaned in pleasure when he suddenly used his other hand to cup her breast from under her shirt. He knew his way around women, Astraea knew, as he unclasped her bra with his one hand and rejoiced at her instantly hardened nipples when he touched them. "Tell me what you want baby..." he cooed as he playfully gripped her right nipple hard enough to make her bite back her scream. "I want you... to..."she barely managed to complete her sentence when she felt him insert a finger deep into her wet pussy. "... Do this?" he whispered as his finger expertly explored her leaking pussy; soft strokes all the time, making her beg for more. Withdrawing his finger, Art smiled as Astraea looked up at him pleadingly. He simply put his finger in his mouth and tasted her. "Mmmm... Nothing quite like a Latina pussy to make a man wet his pants." Having taken his teasing for too long, Astraea stood up, brushing a hand on his crotch and walked to the washroom. If her instincts were right, he would follow her. How unpredictable! Art thought as he followed her a few seconds later. All the while he thought he was having the upper hand. He did not mistake her invitation for what it was when she brushed that small hand of hers on his hard cock. If only she knew how much he wanted to free his painfully hard cock and burry it deep in her. She was daring enough not to lock the door after entering. Glancing around, Art quickly entered the room and locked the door. It was going to be a little cramped but he'll manage. When he turned, he had to hold his mouth from dropping. There she was, her legs spread open, playing with herself. She had taken off the shirt too and he couldn't believe any woman would want to hide such amazing D cup breasts beneath that ugly shirt. "Isn't this what you want, you bad, bad boy?" Art nodded. He could hardly think as he took in all of her in the light. She was beautiful. He started for her breasts. God, he loved them, now that he could see them. They were perfect bronze globes with delicious brown nipples begging to be sucked. He buried his face between her breasts, inhaling her scent; his cock grew so painfully hard yet he knew he had to pleasure her first. As his lips closed in over her nipples, Astraea gave a low moan. Using one of his hands once again to her pussy, she used the other to fondle her right breast. She pulled the nipples and rubbed them in a circular motion, driving herself wild. This time, Art did not tease but with a fevered speed, used two of his fingers to fuck her close to an orgasm. He stopped his rhythm each time she was about to cum, just to see the fire flash in her brown eyes daring him to fuck her more. "Art..." his name on her lips caused his cock to twitch so hard in his pants. Art figured it was time. Licking her juices off his fingers, he turned her round and unbuckled his pants. With her knees on the toilet bowl and her hands pressed against the wall for support, Art couldn't resist the sight before him. His tongue lapped at her wet pussy with no mercy, taking her by surprise. She was sure he was going to fuck her now. But his tongue felt so good against her wet cunt that she started grinding her pussy closer to his face. As quick as it started, it ended, only to be introduced to the real prize. Astraea has to bite her lips to stop herself from screaming as he first plunged deep into her. He had made her soaking wet from all that licking and she understood why. His cock was thick and hard as he drove it mercilessly into her. His hands held on to her breast as he shove himself deeper inside her wet pussy at a speed that left them both breathless. "Baby, you're so tight... this pussy is so good, gripping my cock like that... you like it baby?" his voice barely a huff as she felt him plunge his cock deep inside her pussy again. "Yes! More, more, more! Fuck me!" "As you wish, baby." Lifting one of her legs up, he now had more room to pound into her pussy. Astraea couldn't control her moans as his thick cock now ploughed her pussy, bringing her to one climax after another. As she begun to recover from her last orgasm, Art started twisting her nipples with his fingers and began ramming her pussy making her cum all over again. She felt her juices on her inner thigh now and as she gripped him harder with her pussy muscles, she knew his time was coming. "Ready baby?" Art managed to wheeze before giving a final thrust and spilling his seed deep inside her pussy. She felt his warmth flow deep within her and she came once more, gripping his cock, milking him with her pussy. "I... I... Thank you. Thank was amazing..." Astraea said when they finally made it back to their seats. She tried to gauge his expression, but the soft snores were all she got. Smiling to herself, she turned to her side and slept for the rest of the journey. **** They didn't exchange contact numbers as she had hoped they would. Disappointment was plain in her eyes as they bade farewell and went their separate ways. Astraea wouldn't let herself believe that a man as handsome as possibly wealthy as Art would ever look her way again, unless it was just to satisfy his lust. **** Artegal Travelli made it a point to never sleep beside a woman he had fucked but maybe theirs' was a special case. It made waking up painful. He had seen the way her arm had curved under her head and the way her tousled hair made her look even more ravishing. He had resisted the urge to kiss her again. It scared him that he wanted to hold her and watch her sleep like that. For that reason alone, he kept his silence for the rest of the journey. He wasn't the kind to settle down or wake up to a beautiful woman type. He was sorry when he saw the hurt in her eyes but she would be happier that way. **** Trying to push thoughts of him away, Astraea busied herself with her luggage as she headed towards the taxi stand. She thought of her mother's chicken fajitas with that special salsa dip she always makes and her stomach growled in anticipation. She knew her mother probably spent her eight hours preparing food to feed an army instead of clearing those junk she mentioned not too long ago. Judging Art Ch. 02 "Inspector, the reports from the lab just came and Dr Ramirez personally told me to deliver these to you. He said he had some urgent personal business to attend to," said the mousy lab assistant. She didn't look Cyrus in the eye and was fidgeting on the spot, hoping to be let off soon. Detective Inspector Cyrus Threadgill was also called 'The Silencer' by his colleagues because of his ability to drive even the most eloquent officer to silence and tears with his harsh words. Cyrus raised his eyebrows, waved his hand as a gesture for her to leave and began to shuffle through the report. Whatever Theron had told him earlier had been confirm by the actual post-mortem. The head wound killed him almost instantly. Then why the show with the shot to the heart and testicles? Cyrus frowned and decided he will have to read through the report in detail later on. He needed to first talk to his other officers working on the case to see if they had come up with any leads to bring him a step closer to some answers. On the top of the list was an interrogation with their lead suspect- Mrs. Sybilla Wilde. Cyrus didn't think that the demure Mrs. Wilde was capable of doing such gruesome act; knock herself senseless only to wake up, grieving like the bereaved widow she is now. It just didn't make sense. The blood was sprayed on her clothes as well, meaning that she must have been standing behind the victim. Yet she claims that she did not remember anything. From the corner of his eyes, Cyrus spotted a brunette frisking by; turning his head a slight angle, he spotted her. She looked better than she did the other time. In her crisp business suit and tight chignon bun, she didn't look like she was about to ask for his number. "Detective Threadgill?" her tone wasn't enquiring but one seeking confirmation. "Yes, Ma'am," Cyrus replied, the curiosity in his voice unmistakable. "What the hell have you done, you sick bastard?" she hollered; slapping her palm on the desk in front of him. Heads turned and a scarlet flush crept up his face. "Cy, with that hot head, you're on your own" said a detective to his direction. Rolling his eyes, Cyrus grabbed her hand and led her out of the building. He could feel her eyes burning holes into him. Those whiskey eyes... and her scent were sending his blood boiling. "Inspector, what do you think you're doing by putting my client in custody without seeking my advice? Who do you think you are? Oh, she has her rights and I will make sure she gets them!" Eulalie managed to shoot her venom even though she appeared to be smiling at him. Amused yet surprised to be spoken to in that tone, Cyrus simply stared at her, contemplating his next course of action. In the sunlight, her hair actually had streaks of blond in them and beneath her powder; he could see her pretty freckles spread across her cheeks. He never understood why but he always found freckles cute. Cyrus didn't know what exactly about her that intrigued him. But before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Why don't you have coffee with me?" Eulalie stopped in her tracks and turned her perfectly heeled feet to face him. Her eyes flickered over his body for a moment; her eyes showing the contemplation going through her mind. Sashaying boldly to his side; she stood merely inches from him and whispered to his ear, "I like to make my own moves." Stepping back, she smiled and said, "Why don't we discuss this over lunch? I have a proceeding in two hours and I need to fill up my stomach." To the world, his face did not register a single flicker of emotion, but in his head, Cyrus was practically in hysterics. This woman is something, he thought. Never in his twenty-eight years did her ever meet a white girl he didn't consider too boring or demure. Whatever he saw in Sybilla that night, Eulalie clearly was the opposite. *** "So Detective, tell me, did my sister not request for me to be present for her interrogation as I have instructed?" she asked, taking a spoonful of pasta into her mouth. Cyrus caught himself staring at her mouth and almost didn't hear the question. "She did not Ms. Duras," he replied, smiling to himself as a wave of confusion and embarrassment washed over her. She was silent for a moment. Cyrus figured she was possibly trying to put forth an argument or trying to see if there were other cracks that she could attack him with. He knew that his office called him 'The Silencer', yet in the current situation he was in, he did not appreciate this silence that was growing between them. "I was on the Police Force scholarship to major at Columbia. So whatever you're thinking of doing, over this meal; just stop at the thinking part. This is my move now," said Cyrus as he leaned over the table and set his mouth on hers. He kept his eyes open and saw the shock register in her widened eyes. Almost as swiftly as his lips had touched hers, he pulled back and leaned back on the chair. As if on impulse, she wiped her mouth with the napkin provided and glared at him. "Don't ever do that to me again. I will sue your freaking black ass and the entire police department if I have to. Is that understood?" the anger in her voice was unmistakable. Cyrus merely smiled, enjoying the game he was playing. "Sure, if that's your move," he replied and got up; tipping an imaginary hat in her direction, he walked back to his office. He was positively sure that she was seething mad right now. *** Sitting in her car, Eulalie frowned, thinking about the exchange she had with that incorrigible Inspector. She never fell into silence and was never undermined as she was at that dining table. Oh, he thought he was so hot and macho in his black tailored pants and neatly pressed shirts. She bet that his mother still ironed them for him. Oh, she did not notice his cute butt or his light tuff of brown curls. Oh, she certainly did not also notice his torso which was muscled and lean from all that training. Eulalie hated herself for not noticing all those things. But she hated herself most for not noticing that bulge between his thighs. Was it true about what they said about black men? Eulalie shuddered. "FINE! I'm in denial, damn it!" she shouted to no one in particular. Lucky for her, she was in her car and no one was within her range. *** An hour later, during her courtroom proceedings... Eulalie was in her top form. She buried thoughts of Cyrus to the extreme corners of her mind. She was told that the Judge had been called in specifically for this case that she was handling. She was not sure of his leniency and was not willing to risk sending the criminal she was prosecuting back on the streets too easily. He was a difficult one; he did not want to hear so much of what she wanted to say but wanted to hear from the accused himself what he thought was the proper punishment that he deserved. What a nerve! "Your Honor! This is outrageous. I seriously believe that the accused should at least be sentenced to..." Eulalie began to demand. But the Judge simply cut her in mid sentence. "No, Miss Duras. Let him finish," was all he said. Eulalie was fuming. That was twice in a day that she was being silenced by men! At the end of the hearing, she watched her prosecuted being escorted to his detainment area with only half the sentence that she would have preferred him to have. Walking towards the exit, Eulalie heard snippets of conversations concerning the great Judge Travelli. According to her, he is a prick; just like that Inspector. *** In the comfort and isolation of her office, Eulalie locked the doors and turned down the blinds. Leaning her head back on her chair, she closed her eyes. She could still taste his lips on hers. They tasted mildly of his sweat and faintly of the coffee that he was drinking. He smelled so purely male and characteristically primal that she was afraid he might devour her if she did not watch her guard. Her legs rested itself on the table in front of her and subconsciously, she began toying with her silk panties. Her Mère would never allow any of her daughters to wear anything but matching undergarments made from the finest material. She was a true French woman and wanted her daughters to be culturally informed. But suddenly, she felt grateful for her mother's insistence on beautiful lingerie. She imagined Cyrus's fingers finding such a soft material at her most private parts. Would he be appreciative of them? She figured that he probably liked something different in his women. He seemed like a difficult man to please. Smiling to herself, Eulalie inserted one finger into her pussy. She found it to be already wet. She felt a twinge of shame and of surprise to know how much he affected her. Slowly drawing out the wetness, she massaged her clit and began to fondle her breast through her blouse. She wondered if it was true that black men had big cocks. She never dated them because her Mère disallowed it. But after that kiss, she started wondering if she would ever satisfy her curiosity. Just thinking of his cock made her rub her clit more vigorously. Releasing her blouse buttons and unhooking her bra, Eulalie began to play with her nipples as she massaged herself to an orgasm. When it came, Eulalie had to bite her shoulder to prevent the scream from escaping beyond her room walls. She was shuddering from such an intense orgasm; something she never experienced before just from masturbation. She figured the black cop thing was kind of kinky and turned her on more than she would admit. Picking up the phone, she started dialing... *** "Send him in Maggie. Thank you," she said over the intercom to her receptionist. He literally barged into her office. He was still dressed the same way as he did when they met earlier. But now he had a trench coat on. She bet underneath it, he wore his gun holstered to his hip. That made her hot. "You said you had something important, pertaining to the investigation?" Clearly Cyrus was all business at the moment as he did not even bother for pleasantries. "In fact I do, Inspector. But first, I would like to offer you a drink. Would you like coffee or tea? Or some whiskey perhaps?" she offered. "It's a little early to drink whiskey Ms Duras. I don't think that an officer on duty should be drinking at this hour." "Fine, then I'll pour myself a shot." Cyrus watched her move from the desk to her mini bar. She had unbuttoned the first two buttons from her blouse. Without her jacket, he could see clearly the way her skirt hugged her lower body. It was relatively tight enough for him to make out the sexy line of her panties. It took all his reserve not to whistle at her. She was hot; but she still was important to this investigation. Fuck, he thought. She was important because he couldn't get her off his fucking mind. Eulalie knew that he was observing her. But the perfect cop that he was, he simply sat there, expressionless and un-fidgety. She liked that in a man. She wondered if he could sit just as still when she wrapped her lips around his hard cock. The thought of it made her wetter. She knew by now her panties were soaked from her previous orgasm and was getting wetter by the second. "Ms Duras?" Cyrus looked at her enquiringly. She was staring into space and seemed lost for a moment. "I want you to fuck me Detective. Over this desk and hard till I scream." Cyrus looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "And what if I say no?" he replied. "You won't," she said, unbuttoning her blouse and unzipping her skirt. "I know you want to." Cyrus continued staring at her, his mind trying to shake itself of disbelief. "It's your move, Detective Inspector Cyrus Threadgill. I have been a bad girl for tricking you to come here to fuck me. As a law enforcer, you know you've got to punish me..." she practically growled her words. Cyrus knew his cock was getting hard just by her wordplay alone. That sexy accent was getting to him. It became more pronounced now that she had drunk two shots of that whiskey. He could smell it in her breath now that she was closer; and he could smell something else... almost smell sex on her. Eulalie sat on the desk in front of him and spread her legs wide for him. His mouth went slightly parted as he saw the wet patch on her beautiful silk panties. She was clad only in her lingerie and begging him to touch her. Fuck work, he thought at last and gave in to his lust; burying his face in between her crotch. The silk felt lovely to his skin. His tongue licked at the wetness and he heard her sigh. Make her scream huh? He will make her beg for more, he thought. She was going to get the fuck of her life. Little white, uptown girl; probably never saw a black cock in her life. She was going to be educated. He ripped her panties off in a swift movement that made her gasp. She watched her lovely silk panties fall to the floor and mentally made a note to get new ones. She didn't get to think much as his tongue suddenly delved deep into her drenched pussy and licked. He was like a thirsty animal, licking and sucking on her pussy, wanting to taste all her wetness and wanting more. She felt him push two of his thick fingers into her pussy. He was not gentle at all as he fingered her pussy, bringing her on the brink of ecstasy. She looked down to see his dark brown head between her legs. She looked so pale in contrast to him and it turned her on even more. Suddenly he stopped and looked up at her. Eulalie wanted to die. "No, please don't stop. Please Inspector..." she pleaded. "Take off your bra and show me how you play with yourself. You were all wet waiting for me to come here weren't you? Show me, how you make yourself cum thinking of me," he instructed. Cyrus watched her play with her pussy as he started taking off his clothes. His pants felt too small to contain his full grown cock. He knew the place to sooth the pain. Eulalie was fingering herself to an orgasm, her hips bucking and thrusting upwards. Cyrus simply pushed her fingers away and plunged his hard cock into her. At that instant, her eyes flared and she looked down to see the head of his cock entering her. Eulalie moaned at the intense pain and pleasure she was feeling. He WAS big as they said he should be. It had to be at least 8 inches and as thick as her wrist. She was moaning and writhing on the desk as he pushed more of his thick hard cock into her pussy. "It's too..." she whimpered as she tried to push him. "Here... in my drawer... please..." To his surprise, there was a tube of lubricant in her drawer. He wondered if she had sex in her office regularly. Pushing the curiosity away, he lathered the lubricant all over his cock. He always had problems entering pussy, he mused. Grabbing her thighs, he pushed them backwards till her toes touched her desk. With her pussy opened for his pleasure, he plunged his cock into her pussy once more; this time; it slid all the way in with the help of the lubricant and her wet pussy. Eulalie screamed so loudly that he had to cover her lips with his to prevent her from attracting unwanted attention. Even then, he did not slow down but instead, sped up, thrusting into her pussy like a stallion in heat. His mouth sought her nipples and he sucked hard at them, using his teeth occasionally to bite as his cock continued its' assault. He felt her pussy muscles squeezing him and knew she was going to cum in a big way. Using his thumb, he rubbed her clit as he continued fucking her. Then she came, and caught them both by surprise when she squirted all over them both in jets of warm liquid. She had a shocked look on her face as well and he figured that that must have been her first. "Baby... you're a naughty girl... look at the mess you've made..." he chuckled and sat back on the chair, letting her catch her breath. Eulalie didn't miss a beat. She immediately positioned herself on top of him and dropped herself on his cock. He let out a hiss as she moaned into his ear. She was so tight and he felt so deep inside her. Grinding her hips in a circular movement, Eulalie was driving him crazy. Her lovely C-cup breasts were bouncing as she moved up and down on his hard cock. Cyrus knew that his time was coming soon. She was just so beautiful, straddling him like that and painfully erotic as well. "Guess what Inspector? Your move just ended. Looks like you're in for a ride. Hold on tight baby..." she cooed and he immediately felt her tighten her pussy around him in such a death grip he felt all the air expelled from his lungs. "Baby...put your mouth on my cock... I want you to taste my cum." "Gladly," she replied and positioned her mouth over his cock, just in time before Cyrus started spraying jets upon jets of lovely thick cum inside her mouth. Feeling like the naughty slut she was, Eulalie swallowed them all. Exhausted, he leaned back on the chair and she leaned on top of him. White on chocolate. "I like this feeling," Eulalie said. "I like your body pressed against mine like this..." "Have dinner with me tonight," Cyrus said. It wasn't a question, she knew because it was his turn now. "And fuck afterwards?" she added. "It's your move baby," was all he said to her as his lips touched hers once again. *** NB: Hi all! I hope you liked this story. No, I have not forgotten about our previous two characters and they will all meet again soon in the upcoming chapters. So stay tune! Judging Art Ch. 03 Chapter Three- Judging Art The yellow cab stopped in front of her porch and Astraea got out and began unloading her suitcase. At the sounds of the slamming door, Mrs. Ramirez rushed out to greet her daughter with sloppy kisses on her cheeks. "My pumpkin! What is this…" she said, lifting Astraea's hands and pinching her waist as if she was poultry for sale. "Mama…" Astraea began, knowing full well her mother will not stop fretting over her daughter's weight loss since she went to London. "Now, my pumpkin, don't you worry about your room… I've had Henrietta clean out the guest room just for you!" her mother chirped; her grip still firm on her arms and pulling her towards the kitchen. "My babycakes!" someone exclaimed as she entered the kitchen. The pudgy, pot bellied man gestured her to his lap as his smile widened like that of a Cheshire cat. Astraea let out a gust of air and tried to smile, anticipating, albeit dreading the bear hug that she was about to receive. Her father literally lifted her up onto his lap and rested her on his round tummy. His hearty laugh thundered through the room as he hugged her like she was some down pillow. "Papa… I'm glad to see you too," Astraea managed to say. "Where's my evil half, Papa?" "Hey! I heard that!" Astraea turned to see her brother holding a pan full of flagella beans. "Mmm… smells wonderful," she said and using her fingers started picking at some beans from the steamy pan, only to get her hands slapped by her mother. "Theo will feed you, and so will I, but at the table," chided her mother. "What have those little Britons done to my pumpkin till she forgets her manners?" Later on, after a gastronomical five course dinner, Astraea had to drag herself to the couch, where she lay spent. "Hey babycakes, lost your appetite?" Theron said as he plumped himself next to her, feeling just as spent as his sister. "Mama cooked for an army and you were no help!" she exclaimed, trying to push him off the couch. "Yeah, yeah, which you had almost three helpings of," he replied. "Anyway, I think I'm going to take you to the lab first thing tomorrow. I'm going to introduce you to some people and we can get started. I don't think it's anything complicated. I've done most of the post-mortem but we might have missed something." Astraea mumbled some unintelligible reply and Theron found himself talking to his snoring sister. Shaking his head, he lifted her and carried her to her bed. *** "Astraea, this is Ciro Threadgill. He's the chief investigator for the crime scene division," said Theron, introducing his sister to his colleague. "Pleasure to meet you, sir," Astraea smiled as she shook his hand. She liked his smile. He was very enthusiastic and had a bright smile to his face. After a lengthy discussion and explanation of the evidence and possible directions to be taken, Astraea found herself feeling rather sick and a little grossed out at what was being outlined to her. There were no signs of forced entry or DNA evidence that suggested a third party at the scene. Astraea figured that this Mrs. Sybilla Wilde must either be a mastermind criminal or a really nasty scapegoat for a perfectly carried out murder. "The only thing we know so far is that, the Reverend was shot with a .38mm caliber at close range. The police are currently looking in that direction for those stores that carry this model within the area. But that will probably bring them to a dead end and back to square one," Theron concluded. Astraea was frowning and suddenly turned to Ciro and said, "Your name means 'sun' in Spanish you know. I think it suits your personality very well." Ciro was laughing so loud; Theron had to close the door to prevent inquisitive ears from stopping by. "That is by far the strangest response I've ever had to a detailed explanation of a crime scene," he said, still laughing. "I don't think this is the work of a vengeful wife. Have the police looked at past lovers or current lovers that the Reverend may have had?" Astraea asked. "Honey, you change your sails faster than the wind blows. Well, Doctor, you need to understand that the Reverend is an extremely respected man in his county and his extramarital-curricular activities are not something that we would want to ask aloud publicly," Ciro replied. "What is it babycakes? Tell me what's those wheels in your head is suggesting," said Theron. "He was shot at the head to swiftly kill him. But surely the shot to the heart must have eluded a broken heart of some sort and the testicles; a betrayal. This person, who killed him, isn't just an angry lover. He or she likes to work with things within their control. Think about it- it would be difficult to emasculate someone if they were constantly running for their life right? I'm guessing this person has power or is used to executing with power." "My, my, that's quite a good theory you have there Miss," said a gruff voice that just entered from the door. "Oh hey! Astraea, this is Detective Inspector Threadgill, the Detective in charge of this investigation and the bane of my existence," Ciro said, winking at her. Astraea looked back and forth between them and laughed. "Ciro, the proper way to introduce the ladies to your older brother is to play upon my best parts. Hi, you can call me Cyrus. I think whatever you said just earned you some personal time in my office," he said, smiling at her. Astraea looked at Ciro and said, "Hey sunshine, as little siblings, I'm on your side 100% of the way man." **** An hour later, the four of them found themselves back at the crime scene. The police tape was still in place and luckily this time, the reporters and journalist were not camping outside as they had a few days before. Astraea held on to her brother's hand as they stepped inside the house. Something about this house caused the alarms in her head to go off. Theron kissed her forehead and led her in. Astraea had never been to a crime scene before, unlike her brother. After her short stint at medical school, she decided pathology was her thing and switched specialty. But gruesome crime scenes were never on her repertoire. "Shh," Cyrus said, the moment they were inside. "I hear someone. Stay there and don't move until I come down. Ciro, stay with the lady. You, come with me." He gestured to Theron, as they slithered their way up. Theron felt his heart in his throat, thumping hard. He wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't a trained cop! When they reached the top of the stairs, he heard it- soft sobs coming from one of the rooms. Cyrus motioned him closer to the room and kicked the door open, shouting "Freeze! Don't move!" Then he saw it; her wide, doe-like eyes staring straight at the gun pointing at her. Theron ignored Cyrus's instructions and knelt down beside her. "Sybilla? Look at me," he said softly, tilting her chin slightly with his fingers. Her eyes had so much fear in them, he thought. Was this woman capable of murder? "Who are you?" she said meekly. "My name is Theron… but you can call me Theo if you like. Don't look at the officer, Syb, look at me…" he whispered, soothing her face with his palm. She looked so pale and frightened. He wanted to hold her and cradle those fears away. "Sybilla, you need to tell me what you're doing here. I won't hurt you, I promise. Do you trust me?" he asked. He watched her nod very slowly. Then he saw it. She was holding something. Easing her shoulders, he gestured for her to take both his hands. "Cyrus…" was all he said as he scooped her up. "I've got it." Cyrus looked at what he held and swore silently. It was a gun, wrapped in a delicate red scarf. He looked at Sybilla who had fainted against Theron's body. He didn't want to do this; he didn't know what to tell Eulalie, but Mrs. Wilde was possibly holding the murder weapon. Did she come back here to retrieve it before the police could do anymore searches? He didn't want to think. Back downstairs, Astraea let out a sigh of relief to see Cyrus and then a loud gasp when she saw Theron carrying a woman down the stairs. "We found her, holding this," Cyrus said, showing them what he had. They did not touch the weapon but merely looked. "Mi Hermano…" Astraea whimpered. "Soy fino, Astraea" replied Theron. "Ciro, send her home for me. I'll see you at the station later?" Astraea was beyond shock as Ciro settled her in the car. "Babe, you've got to get used to these things. I'm sure you've seen cadavers before right? This isn't even half as spooky," Ciro said, trying to reassure her. "It isn't that… did you look at her face? She was shocked, hurt and abused." "Now, now, don't let her bereaved state muddle your professional judgment," Ciro said, holding her hand in his. "No… She was told to come back here… I could smell her fear Ciro… Damn it! I'm doing it again… I'm sorry…" she said, breathing in deeply to calm herself. "Where'd you like me to take you?" Ciro asked quietly. "To wherever Theron is." Astraea didn't know how to explain it, but having that woman touch Theron, made her feel whatever he felt as well. She knew she needed to talk to him. That woman's aura was clouded with swirls of white smoke. That was an aura of a person who was walking the death route. *** At the police station, she found Theron through the crowded lobby, sitting morbidly outside the interrogation room. "Baby girl, what are you doing here?" he asked gently. He knew she had felt him need her and cursed himself for not protecting her more by blocking his thoughts. "I'm here," was all she said. Ciro had left her to check on the weapon to see if it had any connections to the investigation. Astraea looked into the interrogation room and saw that woman sitting stonily at one end of the table, facing a beautiful woman at the other end. The other woman had brown hair and in her crisp business suit, she appeared to balance the emotions in the quiet room with her sturdy persona. "That's her sister; she's a lawyer. God help me," Cyrus muttered their way as he walked into the interrogation room. "I need to speak to you," Eulalie said softly. She didn't want to upset her sister anymore than she already was. Walking with him to a private room away from the public eye, Eulalie looked at Cyrus and began to tear. "Baby… please don't do this," Cyrus said, even as his hands held her close in an embrace. "She looked like a fucking ghost Cyr… I feel almost afraid to speak to her for fear she will break into pieces. Tell me, what is it that needs to be done." "Until the fingerprints are confirmed and the weapon matched with the bullet found at the scene; we will have to detain her. If the evidence is against her, I'm sorry baby, but I will have to take her in," he said. Cyrus wasn't used to discussing his work options to anyone, much more a woman. Eulalie closed her eyes and simply pressed her lips to his, drawing in his strength and hoping it would be enough to help her through the interrogation with Sybilla. *** "Mrs. Wilde," Cyrus began but sensing how she flinched and withdrew to herself at the sound of that name, he decided to change his tactics. "Sybilla… I know this has been a very difficult time for you. I know you are hurting inside but I need you to help us so we can help you." "Ne craignez pas, Sybilla…" Eulalie added, trying to reassure her sister's fear. Sybilla stared at the Detective in front of her and her sister beside her. How did two incredibly tough and hot-headed people turn so soft and gentle so suddenly? She noticed the way her sister's eye caught the Detective's every once in a while and she smiled to herself. Ah… to feel that flutter of attraction… she once believed she found it in Jackson… before… before… 3.45am "Damn it! Damn that bitch to hell," he muttered under his breath as he slammed the car door shut. He knew that she had found out about his late night excursions, but there was no need for this… this unbearable silence. Looking up from the garage door, he could vaguely see the silhouette of her figure by the lighted window. Time to face the music. The air around him was still; the trees hung shadows above his head as he strode to the door. Talk about a warm welcome: Her palm met his cheeks even before he could open his mouth. She wasn't crying nor was she angry. Damn that woman. If she had been angry or sad, it would do his ego some good but instead, she smiled and said, "That's for being a naughty boy and leaving me all alone in the house all day." She took his coat and even went to the kitchen asking if he wanted something to drink. "Syb… I can explain…" "Would that be milk or sugar with your coffee dear? Why do I even ask, it's both isn't it?" she gave a small chuckle and busied herself. "Syb! Please, listen to me!" he grabbed her shoulders and the movement caused her to spill the coffee on his shirt. There was a hurt look on her face. At last! Some real emotions! But he was wrong… "Honey! This is a new shirt!" she exclaimed while frantically began wiping the mess off his shirt. "Never mind the damn shirt! Will you look at me?!" Her eyes which were downcast slowly lifted up, almost in challenge, to meet his gaze. "Could you drop this stupid act Syb? Could you please be angry or something? Don't you walk around at four in the morning and pretend nothing's wrong!" "Is there?" her tone was of defiance; a challenge to his sanity. "Couldn't you even ask where I was? Did it not occur to you that I have been sleeping with someone else? Cry Syb… or lash at me! I deserve it, but not this!" She simply stood there, blankly, not saying a word. "How long more do you want to go on like this Syb? You've known all this while and all you could muster was to play the role of a dutiful wife?" "That's why I want to end this now," he saw the movement even before he heard the words. "What?! Sybilla… no, please, not like this…" he pleaded. The gun was pointed at his head. It clicked and the last vision he had was his beautiful wife, the woman he had hurt emotionally, lying unconscious on the ground… before everything turned cold and so, so dark. She thought she heard someone calling her name. Opening her eyes, she saw Eulalie's eyes staring at her. Her big sister was always there for her. But this wasn't their house; the walls were so grey and cold-like. Then her eyes met the Detective's: His black irises were hardened to coal-like composition as was his face; taut and expressionless. "We have a half brother," was all she said, before she fainted again. **** From that moment, everything turned chaotic. Eulalie was screaming for an ambulance; Theron and Astraea were doing on-scene CPR and an officer had barged in telling him that a mob of reporters had found their way into the police station lobby. Cyrus stilled himself for a minute before yelling his instructions, in an attempt to bring order. Putting Theron in charge of the situation in the interrogation room, he pulled Eulalie away from the mayhem and into his office. "Stay here!" he ordered and locked the door. He needed her to calm down; he needed her to think with him; he needed her, period. Ciro was nowhere to be found. Cyrus needed that lab reports right now and was in a murderous fury as he approached the overly crowded station lobby. There were reporters everywhere; somehow they had been at the house and had followed them back to the police station. They had seen Theron carrying Mrs. Wilde into the police car and he knew that each of them wanted every detail, every morsel of information they could find. "Inspector! Here, here!" "Is it true that Mrs. Wilde was found at the crime scene? What was she doing there? Did she have an alibi?" "Tell us Inspector, how does it feel handling the Wilde case, seeing that the Reverend is a highly respected man?" His posture was calm but his eyes were menacing. It was then he spotted Ciro, who came to his side and tried to push the crowd out the door, with the help of other police officers. Suddenly, a soft voice interrupted them "You don't have anything do you?" came the accusation. Both brothers turned to face a petite Asian woman who simply stood there, without a mike trust under their noses like the others. "Why you…" Ciro started to threatened but was halted by his brother. The woman glided past them and said to the crowd, "They have no leads, that's why they can't tell us anything. It's no use being here. You all might as well head home." Her comment only seemed to spark more questions from the crowed and Cyrus motioned to his immediate officers to attend to them. He had more pressing matter at hand. Ciro had passed him the report and was suddenly no where in sight. Feeling the throbbing in his head, Cyrus made his way back to his office. *** She was sitting down quietly and had regained back some of her composure. The steel arrogance he had noticed the first time was back on her face and her eyes were set in pure determinism. "Thank you," she said as he approached her. "That was very unprofessional of me to turn all hysterical like that." "Love does that to us all," Cyrus replied as his hands cupped her face, crushing his lips to hers. "I need you," he said as he fumbled impatiently with her buttons. Their mouths never left each others' even as their hands busied themselves trying to get the other, naked. With his cock hardening, he simply pushed her down and forced her to suck him. "Get me all wet baby. You'll need it," he said as her warm mouth descended on his rock hard cock. His fingers found her pussy and drilled two of his thick fingers into her. She was wet enough for him. Pulling her mouth off his cock, he leaned her back on his desk and entered her pussy without warning. Eulalie screamed as his thick cock pushed its way into her tight pussy. She knew she was going to get sore later on, but she didn't care at the moment. She gripped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips to meet his downward thrusts. Cyrus was moaning and groaning as he felt the first rush of his sperm threatening to explode inside her warm pussy. God, she was so tight! He increased his speed as he thrust into her, feeling her pussy muscles gripping him as she came. It was time for him now. "I'm going to cum baby…" he said, pumping her pussy hard, pushing her to the brink of another orgasm. "Cum… inside me… Hurry…" was all she could say before she came with such a force that made her tremble in his arms. Seeing her writhe in such pleasure, Cyrus couldn't hold himself anymore and came deep and hard inside her. He could feel her tight pussy muscles milking every drop of him. He shut his eyes close as he bucked his hips against hers, emptying himself inside her warm hole. He lay on top of her for a while, catching his breath before looking down at her face. "You're beautiful, Duras. It would take an insane man not to want you," he said to her. He saw how flushed she was against his dark cocoa skin and figured that he liked it that way. "You're mine," he breathed into her ear. *** About two hours later… The mob of reporters downstairs were beginning to dwindle in numbers and finally some peace was returned to the headquarters. Judging Art Ch. 03 Clothed and trying to entice her with a concoction of an excuse for coffee, Cyrus decided to get down to business. With her skin faintly flushed from their recent lovemaking, Cyrus didn't know a time where he could sit with a woman so comfortably like this and talk about his work. He had been a little selfish in their last round for letting himself cum like that without protection. "Honey… are you on the pill?" he asked her gently. He wasn't one to ask a woman such questions after having sex, but he felt her important enough to want to know. "I am, don't worry… I know that that isn't the real question that you wanted to ask me. Tell me Cyr, what is it that I must do now?" she replied. Cyrus tried to ignore the sexy way she slurred her r's; the way his name sounded incredibly sexy on her lips… "Mmm… I would like to get us both naked soon again," he smirked as she started frowning at him. "But of course, right now, we should start by looking up on all the possibilities of that stepbrother of yours existing in the first place." "It does seem plausible, seeing that our father was rarely home; always on business trips and I suppose, 'business trips'," she said quoting her fingers in the air. "That leaves with possibly every single woman in the world." "I would like you to work with my staff to see if there is anything we can find from this angle. You will want to be part of this investigation," Cyrus told her as he jotted down some names and numbers for her reference. "I think I better leave for the hospital now," Eulalie said as she gathered her things to leave. "She is fine. Theron texted me saying that she didn't want to go to the hospital and cause another scene with reporters. She's staying with the Ramirez family tonight," Cyrus managed to say as he watched her walk out of his office in that characteristic sashay of hers. *** "Theo… are you sure Mama won't mind us imposing this… situation on her?" Astraea asked as the three of them settled in her car. "Babycakes, the only one who feels imposed is you. Don't push things to Mama. I know you," Theron replied her smilingly as he belted Sybilla up. "You don't have to whisper in Spanish like that, hoping I don't know what's going on," Sybilla said meekly. She looked at Astraea and said, "I really don't want to be at the hospital… with all those reporters and policemen… besides, I'm sure the Inspector set both of you as my informal custodian." The drive home was silent except for the occasional humming from Sybilla. Theron didn't want to switch on the music so he could think clearly. Something was nagging at the corner of his mind. Sitting beside Sybilla, he couldn't really think much. He knew that her husband was brutally murdered, probably in front of her own eyes. But that couldn't stop him from looking at her. Her skin was pale in contrast to his and she always seemed to fit whenever she was in his arms. She looked so hurt that he had wanted to hold her and comfort her but he knew she wouldn't be ready for that; not so soon anyway. Astraea looked at her brother's reflection in the rear view mirror and frowned. He was thinking of that goddamn woman and she wasn't even half as hot! "Such frail arms and flat chest! Sure, she had a pair of nice legs but nothing could beat my ass," Astraea muttered under her breath. When they finally reached their house, Astraea was surprised to find Ciro and Eulalie waiting there for them. Mama Ramirez was of course honored to have so many guests. It was never the case that she would undercook for mealtimes. "You know, those prints we found weren't yours," said Ciro, cautiously, after they have all settled midway into their meal. "Ciro… I don't think it's best to talk about this now," Theron growled. Astraea raised an eyebrow at him. He hardly growled or got angry at anybody. "No, Theo… please let him speak." Everyone turned to look at Sybilla who had turned pale. She had raised her hand as soon as Theron started protesting again. "Well… we can't say anything more for now… all we know is that the prints don't match hers; they don't match anything we have on the database as well…" Ciro continued, still cautious, under Theron's watchful glare. "That means you're officially off custody Syb!" Eulalie chirped, barely able to contain her relief. It was then her phone rang and she had to excuse herself. She managed to roll her eyes at Ciro before heading towards the hall. "50 bucks that that was my incredibly domineering sibling," said Ciro, trying to liven up the somber mood. "Were there prints Ciro?" Astraea asked. She didn't trust Theron to open his mouth at the moment, so she had to do the talking for now. "No." Theron sweared so loud that if Astraea wasn't right beside her, she wouldn't have heard Sybilla's soft sigh. She wasn't sure if that was a sigh of relief or exasperation but she didn't like this petite high-society wife that very much. "Now, now Theron, I could hear you all the way from outside the hall," Eulalie said as she waltz into the kitchen. She smiled at Mama Ramirez who passed her another bowl of potatoes. "Oh no, Madam, I couldn't possibly eat anymore." Turning to Ciro, she continued talking, "You and I kiddo are going to have a long talk in the car. Big brother wants you to escort me home." 10 minutes later… Astraea grumbled as she cleaned the table. Her mother had taken liking to the two French-speaking women and had even assigned Sybilla her room. The woman actually cleaned up all her junk and made the bed nice and comfortable for her guest! Astraea couldn't help smirk at the irony of the situation. She, the daughter was sleeping in the guest room and little Miss Suspect was cozily acquainting herself with her room! Flopping herself on the chair, Astraea attributed her crankiness to that really ridiculous incident less than 36hours ago. She couldn't stop chiding herself for being so stupid. Who sleeps with men they barely met? Okay… she just did. Rolling her eyes, she started for her room. Mama, Theron and Sybilla were sitting in the backyard having a cup of coffee and chatting. Trust Mama to want to matchmake her children right under their noses! *** By 1am, the Ramirez house was silent. Mama Ramirez had literally tucked all the three grown ups into bed and headed to bed herself. Sybilla was dreaming; the same dream every night. "Ah… Mon Chérie…" his hands were cold as they stroked her face. She was sitting across him, pretending to sip her tea but her eyes were full of rage and anger. "Mère left this gift for you… Oh, you should have seen her eyes when I slipped it off her neck. But all she could do was look…" She couldn't stand looking at the string of pearls he held in his hands. Her mother… their mother was bedridden; she couldn't bear thinking how she must have felt. "Why are you here… and what do you want with me?" she whispered, almost desperately; her fist clenching so hard, her knuckles were turning white. "Oh… it's not you whom I want Sybilla…" Sybilla nearly screamed as she woke up, sweating profusely and near the brink of tears. Slipping into the slippers at the side of her bed, she started to find her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. However, Mama Ramirez did not leave any light on and she didn't dare venture in the dark after such a torrid dream. Tiptoeing all the way to the end of the hall, she slowly turned the door knob of the guest room. She figured the soft snoring on the opposite room must have been Theron's. "Astraea… uh… is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?" she whispered, but there was no answer. Not wanting to sleep alone, she took the extra pillow on the bed and placed it at the rug beside the bed. Cuddling herself, Sybilla soon managed to will herself to sleep… only to be awoken by a rude jab at her arm. "Babycakes! You have your own room you little… Oh!" the surprise on his face reflected itself on hers as her eyes started to widen in embarrassment. "I thought this was Astraea's room… she was snoring… and… your pillow was on your face so I assumed… oh… I'm sorry…" Sybilla started for the door but was stopped by Theron. "No, please stay. Did… did something frighten you?" he asked. "It was a bad dream, that's all," she replied. Sybilla didn't like the situation she was in. Granted, she just lost her husband; but no sane woman could look at those chiseled features and exposed upper body without passing a remark. "Why don't you take my bed? I'll sleep on the rug. If you want a decent amount of sleep, trust me, Astraea will not let you sleep in peace until she has kicked you off the bed and snore you to deaf," he chuckled as he began gathering his pillow and an extra blanket to the floor. Lying on the floor with his eyes on the ceiling, Theron couldn't sleep at all. Just knowing she was a few meters away made him have a boner. He willed his brain to stop undressing her in his mind but who could after seeing what she was wearing! Underneath his blanket, he could imagine how that negligee hugged her soft curves. She had those perky breasts with their nipples straining against her silk negligee, begging to be sucked. It took all his nerve not to grab her and touch them. Swearing to himself, Theron turned to his side and faced the window. But he could hear her breathing and smell her sweet lavender smell. He remembered how soft and smooth her skin was the other time he had touched her face. He wished she was breathing down his neck and not under his covers. He thought about it… what if he got up and went to the bed; pull off the blanket and slide himself smoothly on top of her… He could imagine her sigh as he'd cover her mouth with his while his hands hike up that sexy silk negligee of hers. He'd rest his hands on her stomach and watch as her hands guide them down, down to that hot pussy of hers. He didn't think she would be the little conservative wife of a Reverend kind. She must have a little feistiness to her. He could hear her moans as his fingers caress her clit in circles and feel her hips bucking slowly to his rhythm. Would she think it was wrong for him to go down and lick her there? He loved to lick pussies; taste and smell their arousal all over his face as he slowly used his finger to tease them to an orgasm. He'd probably do it even if she says no because she will learn to love it and beg for more. Theron wanted to die as his cock was getting so hard it felt almost painful not to be released from the confines of its boxers. Under the blanket, his fingers started to stroke his cock up and down, imagining her wrapping her hot mouth over it. She had such a small mouth and couldn't possibly cover his big cock but she will try; licking as much of the head as she could and using her small dainty hands to stroke him up and down. He would watch that purplish head disappear into her mouth and get all excited in anticipation to fuck her. He'd make her turn around so he could lick her sweet pussy while she's going down on him, gagging and jerking his cock. He would pound her pussy with his fingers, making her moan until she couldn't take it anymore and beg him to fuck her. Oh, she would be so polite and ask him to take her. She would position herself on her back like she has always done in the past. But Theron won't let her. He'll make her take what she needs. If she wants his cock, she will need to sit on it like a good little girl and rock herself hard on it. Oh, that would be really erotic. The sweet and demure woman letting it loose on his hard cock. Oh… He could feel her tight little pussy gripping his cock as she moved up and down on him. Theron's hands moved faster up and down his hard cock; he could feel his cum rising… oh it was so good… "Theo…?" her sleep-laden voice stopped him mid-track. Theron sat up and pulled the blankets as fast as possibly to cover his lower body. "Uh… yes?" he replied, rather embarrassed. "Will you show me where's the toilet please? I think I need to pee, but I don't want to go alone," she said, getting up and walking towards him. "Uh… oh god… Syb, would you please turn around for a while and face the door please?" Theron pleased. "Oh, rubbish! Hurry up! I can't hold it back that much longer!" she said as she pulled the blanket off and gasps as her eyes widen. "Okay… okay… my back's turned…" Theron couldn't believe a more embarrassing moment. His boxers were at his ankles and even in the dark, he was sure she saw how hard he was. Standing up, Theron moved behind her and held her close. He knew she could feel him between her thigh and waited for her reaction. Sybilla simply froze. He was holding her with his hard cock pressing against her. Theron breathed in deeply, inhaling the soft scents from her hair. Closing his eyes and sighing, he mumbled to her ear, "I'm sorry. You are too special." With that, he pulled up his boxers, held her hand and led her to the bathroom. While waiting for her to be done, Theron kept cursing himself for being so careless. He should have known something like this was bound to happen. But he won't let it repeat itself. "Theo?" came the small voice as the bathroom door opened. Theron smiled at her and held her hand again. This time, he led her to Astraea's room. "Babycakes… I need you to take care of Sybilla for me please. I found her wandering around the hallways. You could share the bed right?" Astraea, though half awake managed to mumble a string of curses at him as she gathered her pillow and headed for the nearby couch. Theron saw a glimpse of a smirk at the corner of her lips but decided to ignore it. "I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast alright?" he said to Sybilla, closed the door and headed back to his room.