1 comments/ 40380 views/ 0 favorites For Closure Ch. 01 By: Stardog Champion "Take your silver spoon...dig your grave," one of the most prophetic lyrics ever spoken rolled from Stevie Nicks' lips and out the speakers of Leslie Carmen's portable stereo as she piddled around her kitchen listening to the oldies station one hot, June Saturday afternoon. Considering the amount of money her Husband, Lyle, had literally inhaled over the past two decades on his Coke habit, it made Leslie want to spit on the pile of bills and past due notices weighing down a large portion of the desk to her right. Knowing where he kept his stash of nose candy down in his man-cave, Leslie was often tempted to go down there and flush it, but she knew he would just waste that much more of the family's already limited funds buying some more. Stepping up to the sink so she could see her Husband and their two daughters lounging out by the backyard pool through the small kitchen window, Leslie sighed in a deep and bitter breath knowing her Husband's affinity for blow was sadly far from the most depressing thing going on in her life. "Fiddling while Rome burns!!" she couldn't help but think as she watched Lyle sit half asleep in one of the beach chairs, a scotch on the rocks in his hand, looking like a sunburned reject from a Vegas mob movie under the withering midday Sun. Under normal circumstances, the image Leslie could see out of her kitchen window would have made a perfect family picture postcard. Rich and successful Husband sitting completely content by his luxurious swimming pool, flanked by his two beautiful daughters as the Vegas skyline radiated off in the distance. "Oh, if the people looking at that postcard only looked a little closer," Leslie cringed under her breath, rubbing the dish towel in her right hand anxiously across the edge of the sink even though there wasn't a drop of moisture there to pick up. Lyle Carmen had made a great deal of money early on in their marriage through several business deals (some shady and some legit). Through the late 90's and 2000's he'd really dove headlong into the house-flipping craze and had made a killing. That was until the recession hit, and in Nevada it hit with super, extra ferocity right between the eyes. To be frank, money had been so easy for Lyle to make, it had really stripped him of much of his work ethic, and add in several lawsuits several business partners had on him and the occasional inquiry from the IRS, and the family's financial reservoir was draining quickly. Add in one daughter in college and one getting ready to start, along with her Husband's drug habit, and it was no wonder the past year had played fits on Leslie's sanity. A 19 year old waitress on the strip when she'd met Lyle, Leslie had every reason to believe she'd never have to work another day in her life when he married her. Now she had to bide her time between trying to run the household, raise her two girls and work full time as a shift manager at a buffet restaurant in town. The job was a piss stream on an inferno when it came to catching up on the family's bills, but it did at least get Leslie out of the house, and her mind away from the deteriorating situation at home a couple of hours each day. Leslie could live with her Husband's increasingly apathetic state. He was a grown man, 11 years her senior and even though they were still bonded together legally, she'd given up the ghost of living happily ever after. Going broke and having to move out of her house didn't frighten Leslie either. She'd grown up in a single parent home, and knew what it was like to have to struggle to make due, so unlike many lifelong affluent women in her spot, that element didn't scare her. The one constant that kept Leslie Carmen focused on trying to make things work out were her two daughters. Unfortunately, the spoiled apathy they'd inherited from their Father was a much stronger pull than the common sense Leslie tried to preach. Twenty-two year old Candace was sitting by the pool to Lyle's right as Leslie stared with dreary reflection out the window. The girl was also seven months pregnant and wouldn't be going back to UNLV in the Fall to finish her Senior year because of some of the choices she'd made. To Lyle's left sat Courtney, who'd just turned 18. The typical entitled youngest daughter, Courtney was going to have to take the local junior college route if she wanted to go to a four year school. With several black marks on her juvenile record, Leslie really thought by the time the girl turned 18 and got a fresh start, things would be alright. Unfortunately, there was a natural rebellion that bled from the girl because the princess she'd been raised to be as a pre-teen struggled to find her niche in a world where Mom and Dad suddenly didn't have an endless checkbook to fund her vanity. Being attractive and emotionally needy attracted a fair amount of attention in a town like Vegas, and Leslie lived in mortal fear that her two Daughters were going to self destruct before they really got a fair shot as adults. Candace was pregnant and Courtney had just gotten her second DUI since turning 18, forcing both to live at home. The Carmen house was already a powder keg, and with each passing day Leslie cowered, waiting for the final match to be struck. Little did she know that the knock on the front door that mercifully stirred her from that miserable, kitchen window daydream would be the flint. ___________________________ Tossing the dish towel she'd been using to absorb her nervous energy on the counter before turning to go and answer the door, Leslie racked her brain trying to figure out who it might be. "It's Saturday, so it better not be a bill collector," she snapped to herself as she made her way through the living room. It most likely wasn't one of her neighbors either given the fact that most of the people Leslie had grown close to on the block had already moved for the same reasons the Carmen's were on the verge of. "Maybe it's one of the girls' friends," was Leslie's next guess but she didn't see any visiting cars parked in the driveway. Stealing the obligatory peek through the peephole, the man waiting outside was turned away from her, preventing Leslie from seeing his face. Against her better judgment, she opened the door and when the gentleman turned to face her, five years worth of intentionally submerged memories came flooding back. _________________________ Like most couples approaching their second full decade together, things had gotten a little stale and monotonous between Lyle and Leslie. Unlike most couples however, they eventually came to an agreement to introduce a third party into their marriage to spice things up. Bi-curious was probably too strong of a term to describe Leslie, but she willingly went along with their long talked about plan to satisfy one of Lyle's fantasies and bring a girl in for a threesome. Having agreed on a female escort during a weekend trip to Phoenix with the kids back home at their grandparents, Leslie had been successful enough detaching herself emotionally from the events to enjoy the physical interaction for several hard earned, yet hearty orgasms. It helped knowing they were hours from home and they'd never see the girl again, and the evening did truly seem to invigorate their intimacy for months afterwards. So much in fact that Lyle agreed that what was fair was fair and broached the subject of allowing Leslie to satisfy her curiosity of having two men at once. Sadly, that second interlude didn't go nearly as smoothly as the first. For one thing, Leslie wasn't totally gung-ho going through with 'her treat', in fact there were a couple of times she almost decided to call the thing off. It was at Lyle's insistence, and her own re-kindled hormones that inevitably pushed her to do it. It might be he last time she'd ever had sex with a man besides her Husband, she reasoned, and after several sessions of internet searches, they stumbled across a young man living in Reno who was doing some modeling work, among a few other things on the side. The Carmens made the trip upstate a few weeks later and met the gentleman at a club. After a few drinks to get comfortable, the trio made their way back to the hotel suite Lyle had reserved. Part of the 'deal' was the young man promised Lyle he'd bring some prime coke for the meeting, and he'd delivered quite nicely on that stipulation. The blow only intensified the young stud's virility, but the cocaine combined with the bottle of scotch Lyle downed that night to gird himself for what was to come made him as mean as a snake. Everything had initially seemed fine, even when the three were making their way up to the room in the elevator. Lyle had taken a hit of the coke back in club's bathroom just to make sure it was good and was in reasonably good spirits. It wasn't until the trio was alone in the room, and the booze really hit Lyle's system, that the vibe started to change. Lyle, and the young man who's name was Chase, shared another line or two on the desk before the older man took a seat in the corner of the room and the rent-a-stud made his move on Leslie. >From the second Chase laid his hands on her, it was clear this wasn't his first time in such a situation. Their lips coming together, cautiously at first, then increasingly tight, Leslie gradually focused her full attention on the stranger embracing her. Unable now to muster the will to make eye contact with her Husband, she could somehow still feel the temperature of his gaze change as he stared on from his seat. Perhaps it was the absence of the sound of ice jingling in his glass or the steady evaporation of Lyle's occasional commentary, but by the time Chase began undressing her, Leslie had nearly forgotten her Husband was even in the room. What Leslie did feel was a billion tiny goose bumps rise along the column of her spine as her clothes fell to the floor around her. It was all happening in such a slow motion haze, Leslie didn't really have the wherewithal to even process the fact she was standing in nothing but her bra and panties with a man she'd met barely an hour before as her Husband looked on just a few feet away. By the time the stranger slipped the fingers of his left hand beneath the lacy and moist lining of her panties and began scouring them across the freshly shaven rim of her swollen quim, she'd lost pretty much every tether to reality. By the time Chase dipped the fingers of his right into each of her bra cups and freed her two fleshy orbs as he hungrily swirled his lips and tongue up and down both sides of her neck, all Leslie could do was clutch her hands around his back to keep from crumpling to her knees. None of this was lost on Lyle Carmen as he folded his right leg over his left and gripped tighter at the glass in his hands. When they'd had the threesome with the girl back in Phoenix, Lyle freely wallowed in the joy of being in bed with two beautiful women at once. The fact that one of them was his very own Wife, who'd opened herself up to something so risqué made the rendezvous that much sweeter. He'd even stayed sober that night just so he could commit ever detail of the get-together to memory. Lyle found allowing another man to have relations with Leslie not quite as easy to digest. In the back of his mind, he'd envisioned another menage-a-trois scenario, but as soon as Chase faced up with Leslie, it was clear the gigolo had marked his territory for the evening, leaving Lyle on the sideline with nothing to do but watch as he soaked in the numbing concoction of cocaine and alcohol polluting his already bitter system. Granted, he had no one else to blame for opening this can of worms, but it still didn't make it any easier to watch the young man, one for all intents he'd recruited, freely and eagerly roam his hands over Leslie's nearly naked body. Lyle was sitting close enough to hear the moisture of his Wife's pussy billow from her crotch each time Chase spun his fingers through it. He was also close enough to feel the gush of air that left Leslie's lungs the instant Chase squeezed his right hand, without a qualm of hesitation, around her fleshy left breast. Lyle descended deeper into disgust when he looked down and saw his cock straining upwards inside his pants, as if it was some sort of awakened animal struggling to free itself so it too could see what was going on in the center of the room. Shifting embarrassingly to the side to keep the bulge from being visible, helpless anger burned in Lyle's eyes, and he had to quell the urge to throw the glass in his hand at the now intertwined couple standing above him. "They don't even know I'm here," Lyle sensed with raw certainty, having to turn his eyes away from the action when he saw the way his wife's knees buckled as she clenched tightly to the man they'd driven to Reno to meet. Chase's pace was relentless, and by the time Lyle finally twisted his pained gaze back forward, the pair had moved up to the edge of the bed. He could see Leslie's panties were now in a bunched roll down at her ankles and the young stud had worked the front hooks of her bra free until the straps dangled from her golden tan shoulders. Lyle literally pressed the weight of the glass in his hands down on his erection and bit his tongue when he watched Chase part his lips and take a good bit of Leslie's left tit into his mouth. The wincing wail that leaked from his Wife's throat nearly sent Lyle into convulsions. "Just throw her down on the bed, fuck her and be done with it," Lyle angrily crooned in his head, but Chase's next move further consumed the older man with impotent rage. Instead of easing the married woman down on her back and mounting her right then and there, Chase dropped to his knees, still mostly dressed mind you, and pressed his lips down just above the spot Leslie Carmen's clitoris beamed and sizzled with life. With Chase kneeling at his Wife's feet, Lyle got a clear look at Leslie's face, and even though the two had been married for nearly 20 years at the time, there was a woman standing before him he barely recognized. While Leslie's eyes were trained in his direction, the spirit behind them was in a far away place as Chase slithered his tongue lower and clamped his mouth down on her sweltering slit. Lyle recoiled in his seat seeing the explosive jolt of joy spread across his Wife's face just before a visceral yelp bled from her throat and ricocheted through the room. Watching Leslie's fingers dig through the stranger's hair as he knelt at her feet, Lyle fidgeted and shifted once again in the chair as a droplet of pre-cum seeped from the shameful erection inside his pants. Downing the rest of his scotch as Chase began ripping down the buttons of his own shirt, Lyle's could hear the echo of the youngster's tongue darting through the aroused folds of Leslie's cunt as he worked his shirt over his shoulders. Lyle wished he'd brought the bottle of scotch over to his seat when he was forced to hear Leslie's wails rise the instant Chase began spinning his tongue around her bulging clit. Lyle quickly appreciated why he hadn't undressed himself and joined in the fun on the bed when he saw how powerfully built and exquisitely sculpted the 21-year-old's chest and back were once Chase had tossed his shirt aside. Hearing the sounds of Chase undoing his belt as he continued to devour Leslie's dripping pussy a few feet away, Lyle pressed his face flush into his palm as the glass rested on the uneven contours of his lap. The married man knew exactly what was coming next. Watching Chase pull his face from between Leslie's thighs and slowly stand up, if Lyle thought comparing his own middle aged physique to the younger man's was problematic, Lyle's heart sunk all the way to the pit of his stomach when he saw Chase slide his underwear down, allowing his majestic cock to swing free. He remembered the stranger making an offhand comment about his endowment when they were discussing things back and forth online to set up the meeting, but Lyle just assumed it was the same bravado and bluster a lot of men tossed around on the internet. Seeing it for himself, Lyle knew he wasn't anywhere close to measuring up. And Mr. Carmen wasn't the only one in the room to take note when Chase unsheathed his manhood. Pushing Leslie backwards before helping her down on the bed, a grinning sneer spread across the youngster's face seeing the glassy look of sheer admiration in the older woman's eyes as the thing bobbed with life right in front of her. All the life went out of Lyle's eyes, however, when he saw the hypnotic way Leslie raised her right hand and reached for the stud's immense shaft, struggling to get her fingers around the thickest part as Chase nudged his hips forward to press the golf-ball-sized head right up to her welcoming lips. For the next five minutes, Lyle was forced to watch as his Wife, cautiously at first, then with increasingly blunt eagerness, lavish the kid's cock with everything she had. Seeing the corners of his Wife's cheeks puffed obscenely out as she struggled to accommodate Chase's virile girth, Lyle glared with a sickening mixture of horror and fascination as the two carried on as if he wasn't even there. By the time Chase eased his now glistening prick from Leslie's lips and forced her down flat on her back on the crisply made bed, Lyle had pretty much re-signed himself to his fate. Watching Chase collapse down on top of Leslie until all he could see were his Wife's arms and legs flailing out to each side, Lyle had a front row seat to witness Chase take his dick in his hand and nonchalantly shove it deep into the achingly swollen crevice that up until that moment, no man other than him had enjoyed for almost 20 years. Closing his eyes at the moment of penetration did no good as he was forced to listen to the wincing cries of being so thoroughly filled erupting from Leslie's throat. When his eyelids flipped open, Lyle was confronted with the image of his Wife's legs wrapped tight around Chase's back, her ankles locked as she franticly pulled him down on top of her. Narrowing his focus even more, Lyle could also see the straining pink oval of Leslie's gouged cunt stretched to the max as Chase's marauding cock dredged ever deeper. The blood pumping so briskly through his ravaged mind, Lyle didn't even register the vibration of the bed beneath the copulating pair until it simply became too loud to ignore. Again, Lyle gritted his teeth hoping the stranger would hurry up and finish Leslie off, do his business, then go so his self imposed nightmare would be over. Seemingly growing stronger with each hammering lurch forward, Chase grabbed Leslie by the wrists and held her arms flat out to each side of her head as he slammed his pelvic bone down like a mallet on top of her's. Eventually turning Leslie over on her left side without slowing his blistering pace, Chase loved the obscene way the older woman's breasts flopped wildly each time he connected with another punishing thrust. His back turned the entire time towards Lyle, the older man literally felt invisible as Chase had his way with his Wife. After a grueling sessions of fucking Leslie on her side, Chase mercifully pulled back and allowed her to catch her breath for a few seconds before flipping her on her belly then positioning her up on her hands and knees. By then, the two had been going at it for nearly a half hour straight, but Lyle looked as drained and fatigued sitting off to the side as the two sweating souls did on the bed. Even though his body was now limp, fiery deceit still burned in his eyes as he watched Chase prop Leslie up just right on the center of the bed before feeding the head of his mammoth shaft between the cheeks of her raised ass. That fire only intensified when Lyle saw his Wife rock her read end backwards in a primal attempt to fill herself once again with the stranger's blessed gift. For Closure Ch. 01 Having learned his Wife's physical reactions over the past 20 years together, he knew she often had several smaller orgasms that inevitably built up to one ultra debilitating, monster one. Given the passionate ordeal Chase had already put her through, Lyle was sure Leslie had already climbed several of those proverbial steps already. Considering the ferocity Chase was now plowing Leslie, along with the possessive way he reached down and cupped her breasts while he drilled her from behind, Lyle stewed in his seat, knowing it wouldn't be long before he was forced to sit there and witness his Wife cumming so violently, it may cause the paint to peel from the ornate walls surrounding them. While the frontal lobe of Lyle's brain has resigned itself to suffering through what the next few minutes might hold, the primal wiring embedded deep inside the mush buzzing in his skull couldn't take a second more. Bolting up from the chair and hurling the empty glass against the wall above the headboard of the bed, shards of glass exploded in every direction as Lyle jetted past the intertwined couple on the bed. Pausing only long enough to spit down at his Wife, Lyle exited the room before doing anything he'd further regret. So engulfed in the bliss she felt as she writhed on her hands and knees, Lyle had shattered the glass, spat and already slammed the door behind him before Leslie could look up and realize something was amiss. ________________________________ The place Leslie Carmen had taken herself emotionally, to allow herself to do what she was doing with a complete stranger right in front of her Husband of almost 20 years, took quite a bit of work to descend in to. It was akin to some sort of sexual/spiritual hypnosis, and for it to work, it had to be all-consuming. That's why it took several wretched moments for the fractured reality Leslie had suddenly opened her eyes to, to make any sense. Chase's cock was still buried exquisitely deep in her womb, and his hands continued to feel gloriously warm and strong as he clutched her breasts from behind. The psychological energy Leslie had conjured to make the evening worthwhile had been taxing, but given the eagles swooping in her stomach and the cymbals now crashing inside her head, she sensed she was only a minute or two from reaping her ultimate reward. Unfortunately, that's when her Husband's smashed glass came raining down on top of her, killing that hard earned and crucial sense of detachment, not to mention inexorably tainting the mood. Leslie hadn't made a point of keeping sustained eye contact with her Husband throughout. Sailing simply on trust, she remembered vividly how he'd joyfully soaked in the evening months earlier when they'd invited another woman into their marital union. The assumption that courtesy would be returned shattered in the hail of broken glass and scotch scented ice cubes that now dotted the duvet around her. Resting on his knees with his cock jutting out like a lead pipe drenched in Leslie's shiny vaginal dew, Chase tapped at the still rigid girth as he watched the married woman slink downwards and roll off to the side. This hadn't been his first awkward experience with a married couple since posting that ad online. While he was admittedly quite full of himself, even Chase knew in this particular scenario that he was basically just a prop for the couple's enjoyment, whatever that might entail. When the events suddenly hit a snag, or in the case of the Carmens, completely barrels off the track, Chase was sage enough to hold his tongue, take a few deep breaths and simply drift into the background. He didn't say anything as Leslie stumbled out of bed and tried finding enough clothes to throw on so she could go looking for her distraught Husband. He didn't say anything as she totally ignored his naked and still visibly aroused presence on the bed as she searched high and low for shoes to put on. Chase didn't even say a word as Leslie tore out of the room, leaving him there all alone. Stepping off the bed and smirking a wry smile at what the crazy scene that had just unfolded, Chase quickly threw his clothes back on, reminding himself once again to never to get married. Shoving his rigid cock back into his pants, he knew there would be plenty of action in the bars across the street to take care of that pressing issue before heading home for the evening. He did, however, take the time to check one little thing before exiting the Carmen's hotel suite. _________________________ If there was one thing abundantly clear, four and a half years later, when the now 26 year old Chase Boscoe found himself standing on the Carmen's front porch, it was this time he wasn't going to drift quietly into the background. The recognition in Leslie's eyes was immediate, and striking. Chase had vacillated several times whether or not to go through with his plan, but one look at Leslie as she stood paralyzed in her doorway made the trip out to Henderson worthwhile. "Hello there, Mrs. Carmen," he nodded and smiled. "My name is Chase Boscoe..I'm a representative for Nevada Fidelity Bank. I work in the foreclosure department. I think you probably know why I'm here..may I come in?" Other than a quiver of her lower lip and a small vein that was suddenly protruding out of nowhere in her forehead, Leslie was a pillar of salt as the man from her past stood no more than an arm's length away. The woman standing before him hadn't changed all that much since that hour plus he'd spent with her a half decade earlier. Her blonde hair was a little longer and styled differently, perhaps lined with a touch more gray if you looked real close, a result most certainly from the obvious stress her family had been under. Selfishly, Chase found himself admiring the same full swells of the married woman's breasts, the outline of which were easily detected even in her loose sweatshirt. "Still has those beautiful cheekbones too," he noted, "not to mention that same 'no bullshit' gaze in her eyes." It was clear she was a woman of substance, which made Chase that much more aroused given the circumstances of his unannounced visit. "May I come in?" he politely asked a second time, his demeanor as calm as the blanket of desert heat behind him. "My husband's home," the words left Leslie's lips in a dry, dusty hiss. "My kids too..they're out in the backyard by the pool. Should I go get.." "You're welcome to if you'd like..." Chase's aqua blue eyes a raging tempest now as he stared Leslie down. "Or we can talk for a few minutes alone." ______________________________ Chase earned his finance degree from the University of Nevada a little over a year after his interlude with the Carmens. Having grown up hardscrabble, Chase had been the first person in his immediate family to make it through college. Blessed with God-given looks, pretty much everything else Chase accomplished, he had to hustle for. Between the partying with his friends and some distractions of his own making, it took Chase nearly six years to finish school, but once he did, he'd filled his resume out quite nicely since joining the workforce. One of those 'distractions' happened to be the little hobby he'd discovered while in college of fooling around with married women who's Husbands had set things up online. Often times, that's how Chase sustained his coke habit, either directly asking for drugs, or at least getting a small financial show of appreciation from said Husband. Sometimes, it was purely for the fun of fucking a woman's brains out right in front of her old man. There had been several such instances before his night with Lyle and Leslie Carmen, and there were quite a number afterwards as well. Like most things in life however, Chase mourned the one that got away. The sound of that glass shattering above his head was engrained in his Chase's mind, not to mention how deliciously close he was to sharing a seismic release with the guy's Wife just before things went so totally awry. Basically still a thug at heart, just one now with a good education and a few solid business connections, Chase had stumbled into a job with Nevada Fidelity that happened to be the same bank the Carmens had their home loan. Thinking back to that night in the Carmen's hotel suite, how he was left all alone after Leslie took off after her Husband, Chase remembered slipping his hands into the gentleman's coat pocket that was slung over the same chair the older man had sat watching the horrible events unfold on the bed. Taking the remaining baggie of blow and tucking it into his own pants pocket, Chase also looked through the man's wallet, not to steal any money mind you, that would simply be wrong, but just to take note of the guy's name and address. Years later when he was hired by the bank to help light a fire under some of their delinquent but still salvageable accounts, Chase's eyes unexpectedly lit up when he recognized the name and address on one of his work related print outs. ______________________________ Leslie watched helplessly as Chase stepped through the front door without a formal, voiced invitation. While technically the bank Chase worked for held the deed to the property, the purpose etched across his face implied a far different type of entitlement as he walked past her. Staring at the intruder with a mixture of disgust and speechless awe as he surveyed his surroundings, Leslie visibly jumped when Chase spoke. "This is a beautiful room," he offered with near political precision. "I go into a lot of homes through this job...Did you decorate all this yourself?" He was neither surprised or insulted when Leslie failed to dignify his query with a response. Slyly stalking through the room, simultaneously listening for the presence of anyone else in the house as well as gauging the stunned woman's increasingly complicated reaction, Chase was empowered by the clear recognition in Mrs. Carmen's eyes. "Don't you think we ought to call your husband inside..this is pretty important business," Chase grinned, tapping at the legal packet in his hands for effect. "I....don't think he...he really needs to see you again," Leslie robotically replied, the bitter taste from that night nearly five years earlier suddenly heavy on her palate once again. It had taken Leslie Carmen over 10 minutes that night in Reno to track down her wayward husband. She finally found him down in the hotel lobby, chain smoking as a tweaked vibe of disgust and embarrassment oozed from his pores. She'd tried giving Lyle a hug, but he pushed her away, unable to be that close to her with the other man's scent still so vivid around her. Without any words capable of addressing the clusterfuck of emotions surrounding them, Leslie just sat there with her Husband until they saw Chase depart through the far side doors of the lobby. "It's just like a nightmare," Leslie tried to reason with herself. "When you wake up in the morning..it'll be like none of this ever happened. You'll never have to see him again." But there he was, years later, standing in her very own living room, seemingly larger than life as he stared on with the measured intent only someone who'd shared carnal knowledge with her could. If Leslie had been on better terms with the concept of full, emotional disclosure, she may have been able to admit in that dreadfully awkward moment that Chase hadn't exactly left her life the night he walked out of that hotel in Reno. In the deepest and most secret recesses of her mind, the fleeting interlude with the handsome, handpicked stranger had taken on a life of it's own inside Leslie's tortured psyche. The next time she'd had sex with her husband after that painful night, the thought of Chase grinding on top of her instead of Lyle had been omnipresent in Leslie's head, not to mention many times since. While the memory of that lone, and sadly interrupted, hour with Chase ebbed and flowed over the years, it remained like a mental mirage, hidden only for her selfish consumption when needed. If she'd simply been allowed to finish what she'd started that night, perhaps Chase Boscoe would have simply been a glorious and secret footnote in the Carmen's marriage. To surrender to someone of Chase's skill and prowess, then be taken right up to the point of utter and complete satisfaction only to be denied at the last very moment was something Leslie had never gotten over. To have him standing directly in front of her all these years later, his keen eyes seemingly reading every hidden facet of her mind left Leslie feeling numb and vulnerable, just as she had been with him on that hotel bed all those years ago. She was powerless to stop him when Chase turned and made his way towards the kitchen. Totally out of sorts, Leslie's feet felt like two bowling balls as she tried weaving between several chairs and end tables to beat the visitor into the kitchen. Breathing a brief sigh of relief when she saw the side door that led to the back yard was closed, Leslie passed Chase and scurried up to the sink to peer out the window, praying her husband and two daughters were still clustered obliviously around the pool. Leslie's heart was thudding so wildly, she didn't hear Chase's approaching footsteps until he was directly behind her. Feeling his presence envelope her as she bit the inside of her lip and clutched tight to the edge of the sink, Leslie twisted her head to the side when Chase's warm breath cascaded down over the back of her neck. "Why did you come here?" she begged. Seeing Chase toss the packet of legal papers down on the counter to her right, she trembled and let out a small gasp when he put his right hand down on the sink, directly beside her's. "To talk to you and your husband and your loan payments," he replied with cool and sullen indifference. "Looks like one of your daughters is pregnant," Chase added in hushed accusation, his lips so close to Leslie's hair now, the vibration of his words slithered like a foul wind straight down to her roots. Trapped now between the edge of the sink and Chase's towering frame, all Leslie could do was join him in looking forward out the window as goose bumps raised like sandpaper on the beautiful tan skin of her neck. "Your husband looks even more fucked up than he did before," Chase noted without a hint of compassion. "Still drinking his scotch I can see..is he still inhaling his paychecks too? "This economy being the way it is..and the bloated loan you have on this place...Now you have a pregnant daughter living at home...No wonder you're having a hard time paying your bills," Chase blistering assessment of Leslie's misery continued. Responding would have been futile, every single shred of it was hard to argue. Still, something much more distracting had trickled into Leslie's consciousness. Each time she inhaled, she couldn't help but breathe in the scent of Chase's cologne, the exact same brand he'd worn all those years earlier. Gradually, her foothold on reality crumbled away. This was her house, her very own uniquely inspired kitchen and this man was essentially holding hostage inside it. Leslie could see her cell phone five feet to her right and she knew she could dart towards it and dial 9-1-1 before he could stop her. If worse came to worse, she could even reach up and pound her hands on the window, certainly alerting Lyle, Candace and Courtney of her peril. But, oh the Pandora's Box that would open, and Leslie was certain that was exactly what Chase was banking on. And in that moment of divine enlightenment, it became clear Chase's visit wasn't about the house, or the family's unpaid bills. This was much more personal. Standing silently behind Leslie, as if listening to the gears grind inside her head, Chase finally spoke up again. "That must be your youngest Daughter," he crooned, seemingly tweaking every nerve in Leslie's agitated soul. "She looks just like you." " STOP BADMOUTHING MY HUSBAND...STOP LEERING AT MY DAUGHTERS....STOP TORTURING ME!!" she wanted to scream, but couldn't. Her lungs had vapor-locked. While her predicament, along with Chase's sordid words were heart wrenching enough on their own merits, the warm and throbbing bulge she now felt against the skin tight material of the rear of her shorts was what caused Leslie's sudden pause. "Jesus Christ..it's his cock," she knew with dreadful clarity, remembering the girth's contours and imprint even after all those years as he crudely pressed it against the cheeks of her ass. Tracing his left hand down Leslie's side, starting first just under her arm then slowly easing it down to her waist, Chase leaned in and pushed her sweet smelling blonde hair to the side before kissing Leslie on the nape of the neck. "You remember that don't you?" Chase taunted, seductively grinding his hips forward several times just to make sure the older woman got the message. "...Please..... don't," Leslie mumbled weakly, the residue of his kiss rekindling all sorts of things in her brain. "Any of them could walk back to the house any second..I told them I was making some lemonade..see..it's right there," she continued to stammer. "They're gonna wonder why I haven't brought it out." "Then why don't you just take it out to them..It's such a hot day..I'm sure your girls could use it," Chase said with a kindness and charity that left Leslie dazed, and more than a little confused. Nearly having to catch herself on the edge of the sink when Chase stepped away, Leslie turned and looked him directly in the eyes for the first time since he'd stepped into her house in an attempt to gauge the young man's ultimate intent. "Take the lemonade out to your family," Chase nodded in the direction of the tray and benevolently offered. "I'll be waiting here when you get back." "You're just gonna wait in here while I go outside..." Leslie parsed every word as if none of them made any sense to her own ears. "You're more than welcome to bring your husband back in with you if you want...We can spend the rest of the afternoon going over the papers I brought with me," Chase chided with callous calm, taking one of the glasses of homemade lemonade and taking a long sip just to show he planned on staying awhile. "If I was him, I'd probably rather stay out by the pool on such a beautiful Saturday instead of ruminating over foreclosure options," he casually added. Turning to his right, Chase grabbed the tray and handed it to Leslie. "Go on...take it outside. I'll make myself at home right here," he assured. Watching Leslie take hold of the tray was an adventure. Hearing the ice cubes rattle in the pitcher, as well as the three empty glasses, when the woman's shaky hands took hold, Chase smiled, wondering if she was going to be able to make it to the door without dropping them. Reaching over to finish off the glass of lemonade he'd started moments earlier, Chase took one long refreshing swig as Mrs. Carmen took several painfully slow and tedious steps towards the kitchen door that led to the pool in the backyard. Sliding up to the sink when she disappeared outside, Chase gazed out the window much the same way a scientist would waiting for the results of a groundbreaking lab experiment. Squeezing the erect log of his manhood through his business trousers as he watched the tall and voluptuous woman solemnly make her way across her sundrenched pool deck with tray in hand, Chase leaned forward and waited to see if she'd come back alone... Part 2 coming soon... For Closure Ch. 02 Feeling positively voyeuristic studying the interaction between Leslie Carmen, her husband and two daughters out by the pool from his hidden perch inside the kitchen, Chase watched the 45 year old woman hand a glass of lemonade to the pregnant older girl then stride to the other side of the pool and deliver one of her youngest. In between, Lyle Carmen barely acknowledged his wife's presence, only raising the empty glass he'd been drinking his scotch from when she walked by him a second time. "What a douche bag," Chase couldn't help but think as he watched Leslie take Lyle's glass and re-fill it from the bottle sitting on the table in the shade. Looking over to his right, Chase saw the cluttered pile of bills on the Carmen's kitchen table. Juxtaposing that reality with the affluent facade Lyle and Leslie were still trying to put forth brought a wry little grin to Chase's face. Having grown up rather poor, coming to these people's homes through his line of work always brought a level of internal amusement to the young man. Seeing the lengths these rich bastards would go through to make everyone else on the block think they were one step ahead of the race was priceless, and in the Carmen's case, it was extra rich considering several people on the street had already been kicked off the curb. Strolling over to the pile of bills, Chase thumbed through them until he found a past due notice from Nevada Fidelity. "HHMMM..HA," his chuckle echoed through the empty kitchen. "Guess they knew I'd show up at some point!" Given all the professional joy he was taking from all this, Chase never lost sight that this visit was much more personal. Casually walking back to the sink to check on the progression of things outside, Chase caught Leslie stealing several quick glances towards the window, as if to see if she could detect anyone's presence inside given the angle of the Sun that time of the day. That's about when Chase suddenly perked up. Lyle Carmen had steadied himself with his freshly filled glass of scotch before pulling himself out of his deck chair. "Son of a Bitch is going to come inside," was Chase's first instinct when he saw the older man stagger to his feet and point his wife off to the side. A look of confused indecision written like graffiti across Leslie's normally stern and no-nonsense face, even Chase held his breath for the next few seconds to play out. Bracing himself for possibly having to come face to face once again with Lyle Carmen, this time in the man's very own home, Chase shook his head with disbelief when he saw the older man drunkenly stumble towards the edge of the pool. Seeing the look of exasperation and unease in Leslie's gait as she went to help her 57 year old husband, Chase had to contain his laughter when Lyle awkwardly plopped himself down on an inflatable chair and floated out to the center of the pool. That moment of comic relief out of the way, Chase turned his attention to Leslie's two daughters. The pregnant one named Candace was sitting no more than 20 feet from the window with her back turned. It was hard to tell whether the girl was napping or intently reading the magazine pushed up to her face as she roasted there under the Sun with a nearly done bun in her oven. The younger girl, Courtney, was the one who really struck Chase's fancy. "She looks like a lot of trouble," he assessed correctly, meaning it as quite the compliment, even though he'd never met the girl. It was simply a radar he'd honed over the years. Propped against the front of the sink as he peered out the window, Chase couldn't help lowering his right hand down to his crotch and massaging the ample log pressing along the inside of his trousers as he alternated his admiring gaze between Leslie and her bikini clad youngest girl. Not wanting to shoot his wad prematurely, at some point Chase reluctantly pulled his hand away from his crotch and focused his full attention back to Leslie. "It almost looks like she's standing out there on an island, all by herself," he couldn't help but note. Leslie's husband, apropo of his current lot in life, was adrift in the center of the pool, drunk without a care in the world. At the very same time, her two daughters were completely absorbed in their own worlds as well, leaving Leslie in the center of her spacious backyard, vacillating over her next ultimate move. Staring out at the married woman as she stood pensively under the withering midday Sun, as if totally disconnected from the three members of her immediate family, Chase swore he could see the same twinkle of selfish want (and base human need) flickering in Leslie's eyes that he vividly remembered from five years earlier. It took several more anxious moments of watching Leslie's defenses melt away before Chase finally leaned back and stood at full attention seeing Leslie began her slow and lonely trek back towards the house. Stealing one last glance at Lyle and the two girls just to make sure they were staying put, none of the three so much as looked Leslie as she bowed her head and rounded the corner of the house. Stepping back and leaning against the far kitchen counter, Chase folded his arms and waited for Leslie to walk back in. Saying nothing, the younger man simply stared on and grinned like a coyote when Mrs. Carmen re-entered the kitchen. Studying every subtle move the married woman made, even someone who's heart was as hardened as Chase's skipped a beat when he saw Leslie turn and twist the deadbolt to lock before looking up to face him. The two then shared what amounted to a face to face, "OK Corral" type moment where each waited for the other to make the next move. Leslie finally did, bowing her head again as she shuffled her feet slowly across the kitchen floor. "There's a few spots down in the basement...plenty of places to hide in case..," she offered in a whispered tone of resolute acceptance. If anything, the corners of Chase's already smiling lips creeped even higher on his cheeks hearing the surrender in Leslie's voice. A shake of his head told her what he thought of that option. "We can't do it in the bedroom...its on the second floor.....and...its..........," Leslie fumbled. This time Chase simply shot down that option with a stone cold stare. Reaching out and taking Leslie by her waist before she could untangle the words in her throat, Chase pulled her straight towards him and planted a soul stirring kiss right on her lips. "UUHHHHH," Leslie gasped, her chest heaving wildly when Chase pulled back. Absorbing the taste of the kiss as he allowed the gravity of it all to settle around them, Chase eventually used his hands to turn Leslie towards the sink before nudging her in that general direction. Facing the window once again when Chase pushed her up to the counter, Leslie found herself growing limp in the younger man's vice-like grip. His warm and eager breath cascading down on the back of her head and neck, Leslie shivered once again when she felt the aroused girth of Chase's manhood pressing against her rear end. This time however, instead of stopping there, Chase snuck his hands between Leslie's outstretched arms and closed them around the jiggling swells of her bosom through her loose fitting shirt. Another feral gasp bled from Leslie's lips as she helplessly grinded backwards against Chase's solid, six foot plus frame. "....We..can't ..we can't...do it..here," she begged, sensing now just what the young stud had in mind. "....We can't....," Leslie tried to repeat herself before Chase rendered her mute. Her gaze trained forward, numb now to the beautiful day outside, Leslie was vaguely aware of Chase's hands sliding off her breasts and descending back down to her waist. Her eyes filled with a brilliant and blinding neon light a few ticks later when, in one clean and efficient movement, Chase tucked his thumbs into the waistband of Leslie tight black exercise shorts, and jerked them straight down to her feet. Seeing the woman in front of him flinch, then freeze in horror as he stood back up, Chase's cock lurched visibly inside his pants as Leslie gripped tight to the edge of the sink. Wasting no time sliding his hands around her from behind, Chase allowed his fingers to follow the warmth until he pressed them into the heated and slickened slit of the woman's puckered fissure. Teasing the steadily fattening pulp of her labia, Chase hungrily kissed the older woman on the neck and shoulders as he forced his index and middle fingers down to the first knuckle inside her. "......Don't....," Leslie mouthed as if from a million miles away, a sentiment that was clearly betrayed by the way the churning muscles of her vagina seemed to drag his fingers deeper in. "You didn't shave for me this time," Chase mocked into her left ear as if Leslie should have been expecting him. As if the indignity of being naked from the waist down in the middle of her own kitchen wasn't enough, Leslie felt Chase's hands close around the bottom of her shirt before he jerked it up as well, allowing both her sizeable breasts to spill free. While it did resonate with Leslie that she was nearly stripped bare and standing in front of a window overlooking her husband and two girls as they lounged without a care outside, it was clear for the time being she had absolutely no control over what would happen next. Rutting backwards against Chase as he dipped the fingers of his right hand back inside her flowering crevice, her nipples grew into juicy pink acorns as he gently pinched and tugged at them with the fingers of his left. "Feel familiar?" he hissed into Leslie's ear when he pushed the bulge protruding from his pants between the crack of her exposed ass. Rubbing the tented cylinder back and forth several times on the bare skin of her behind until it built up a real friction, Chase continued to gouge his fingers through her pussy until they were coated in her sticky vaginal spritz. Peeking over Leslie's right shoulder, he could see her outwardly biting down on her lower lip to contain her moans as she clenched her eyes shut. The tendons in her arms working hard to keep her grip on the sink, Chase planted a series of tender kisses along her back and shoulders as he continued to fondle her with both hands. Stealing another quick glance out the window at some point, Chase could see Lyle Carmen still floating aimlessly around the pool as his two girls bathed lazily in the Sun. Pulling his right hand free from Leslie's steaming crotch when he felt the time was right, Chase heard the involuntary sigh of discontent slip from her lips as she strained and shivered in front of him. Then he reached for his belt. Her eyelids still sealed as her world unraveled around her, Leslie could clearly hear Chase undoing his belt before the loosened leather strap tickled the fleshy cheeks of her ass. Gritting her teeth together when she heard him rip his zipper down, Leslie rocked forward on her trembling feet, nearly tripping several times on the twisted knot of her shorts around her ankles. Freezing in place when Chase's left hand came to rest on her hip, Leslie arched her neck and held her breath when the warmth of the young stud's unsheathed girth pressed against the back of her thighs. "Oh my," she mouthed when he pulled all the way backwards. "Look down," he demanded from behind. Looking down between the swinging orbs of her heavy breasts as she instinctively stepped out of her shorts and spread her feet apart, Leslie could see the upper third of Chase's cock poking out from between her thighs. "Why don't you reach down and touch it," he commanded. Bracing her left forearm on the edge of the sink, Leslie clumsily reached down with her right hand and closed her fingers around the spongy and pulsing head of Chase's substantial prick. "Fuck.....yes....," she heard him spit with pleasure as she awkwardly groped the shaft. The specter of the three people outside ever-present, with Leslie bent over, Chase had a clear view of Lyle, Candace and Courtney sitting imperviously outside. Using his right hand to maneuver his dick between Leslie's upper thighs, Chase could feel the humid warmth of the married woman's cunt bathing his rod as she spun her fingers around the bulbous and imposing head. Her forehead pressed down on the edge of the counter, Leslie couldn't fathom the patience Chase was showing as he slowly usurped control over every morsel of her being. Still conscious that her family was less than a hundred feet away while she stood there in such a compromising position, Leslie knew she'd become no more than a lump of clay on the young man's spinning wheel. "Do you want me to fuck you again...finish what I started back in Reno?" Chase taunted, gliding his left hand through Leslie's long blonde hair as he sawed his cock back and forth across the rim of her snatch with his right. "...Hurry up," he heard Leslie's muffled reply as she squeezed her thighs anxiously around his gloriously plump erection. Loving the perverse and primal buildup, Chase continued to tease Leslie with his cock until her wobbly knees were banging into the cabinet door in front of her. Rearing back slightly to get a good look at the raging fire between Leslie's thighs, Chase used his hands to force her legs even further apart until she was perched there in the shape of an upside down Y. Leaning down and pressing his face forward, Chase stole one quick but filling taste of Leslie's pussy as she teetered above. Admiring the radiant bloom of her aroused sex when he pulled back, Chase reached out and massaged the flowering lips of her labia before spinning his fingers around the swollen nub of her clitoris. "..Ohhhhh...shhhhiiitttttttt....Ohhhh..fuccckkkkk," Leslie's rumbling hum of appreciation radiated through the room. Easing back up, Chase wasted no time pushing the head of his turgid phallus where his mouth had just been. Within a few seconds of slicing his manhood deep between the woman's glistening folds, Chase watched as she willingly absorbed his wicked invasion. Five years seemed to just suddenly dissolve away as their two bodies melded together, just as they'd done that lone night, long ago. The kitchen quickly filled with the repetitive sound of Chase's midriff crashing into Leslie's rear-end. Propping herself up on the balls of her feet as Chase clutched his hands around her waist, Leslie twisted her head side to side as her titties swung back and forth against the edge of the counter. "Just as good as I remembered," he grinned down to Leslie as he intensified his forward assault. Reaching around the front of Leslie's chest once his cock was buried to the hilt inside her, Chase fondled her bare and bouncing breasts, loving the way the muscles of the moaning woman's vagina squeezed around his dick each time he greedily pawed at her heaving bosom. Pumping forward until the 45 year old woman was balancing on the tips of her toes, Chase slid his hands down from her chest and extended them down to the insides of each of her thighs, forcing them far enough apart to provide the optimum thrusting angle. It was just as good as Leslie remembered as well, perhaps even better. With each second that passed, the realization deepened that as crude as his methods had been, the fact that this young man had had waited all these years to finish what he started with her tapped into something so erotically depraved inside Leslie, that she'd lost every bit of the decency and control she'd long taken so much pride in. He'd barged into her house, stripped her down without so much as a struggle, and now had her bent over her kitchen sink, plowing her as if he owned her. For the moment, she was no longer a loyal wife or mother, she was simply a woman in heat, ruthlessly getting her brains fucked out better than perhaps any human being on Earth was at that very moment. Thankfully, Leslie's head remained bowed and her gaze trained to the floor or she would have been mortified at what Chase suddenly had a front row to see. Leslie's husband and two daughters had been so lazy and lethargic roasting outside by the pool, Chase had started thinking of them as props scattered across the Carmen's backyard. It wasn't until Leslie's youngest daughter stood up from her beach chair and started walking towards the house that he was jolted back to reality. Continuing to deliver one drilling thrust after another into Leslie's dripping quim from behind, Chase's eyes flared open watching the bikini-clad 18 year old beauty approach the window, not to mention the walkway that led around to the kitchen door. Looking to his right for just a millisecond to make sure the deadbolt was locked, Chase turned his attention back to the window, looking directly at Courtney Carmen as her tanned and succulent breasts swayed seductively in their skimpy restraints. Pounding Leslie that much harder as he brazenly sized up her daughter, Chase kept his left hand on the back of the older woman's head just to make sure she wouldn't look up and see what he was seeing. An eerie and all consuming calm settled over Chase as he watched the young girl come even closer. Deep down, he'd long decided he wasn't going to stop fucking Leslie this time until he was good and ready, no matter what obstacle tried interrupting his dastardly carnal deed. Even though Courtney had on a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses, Chase was sure she could see him through the window if she happened to look just right. Reaching beneath Leslie with his right hand and closing his fingers around her clit, Chase tweaked the blood gorged thimble of flesh until it felt as if an entire hive of bees had been unleashed inside her. Using his foot to kick Leslie's shorts out of the way so he wouldn't trip, Chase steadied himself before burying his cock all the way inside her. Seeing the muscles in Leslie's calves strain upwards and quiver when he did, this time Chase kept it pushed all the way forward, twisting it in slow, stirring circles until her pelvis was rocking in unison with his. "No way she's gonna look up now..she can barely even stand on her own," was Chase's brutal assessment on Leslie's condition as he kept his eyes glued on Courtney's slow approach. An internal twinge of disappointment swept through Chase a few seconds later when he saw Courtney stop at one of the shaded tables the Carmens had surrounding the pool and pick up her pack of Newports. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, continuing his steady, gut-wrenching churns inside the married woman as he watched her youngest daughter light up, grab a bottle of sunscreen, then turn to walk back to her seat by the pool. Pulling backwards until only the head of his prick was tucked between the clinging lips of Leslie's vagina, Chase admired the syrupy mire drenching the shaft. Watching Courtney's exquisite, apple-shaped tush sashay back and forth in her bikini bottoms as she made her way back to the far side of the pool, Chase licked his lips and sighed before ramming his cock all the way back inside Leslie's gushing quim. His cock feeling like forged steel as he slammed it between Leslie's thighs, Chase could feel a seething rush of adrenaline saturating his heart as he soaked in the perversity of the moment. Keeping one eye on Courtney as she sat down and proceeded to rub lotion over her exposed body, Chase kept the other on the girl's Mother who was now writhing uncontrollably below. It wasn't long after all that Chase felt the first tickling tingle of his reservoir of cum beginning its slow, rolling boil to the surface. Having decided weeks earlier that this particular Saturday would be the day he'd make the drive out to Henderson to visit the Carmens, Chase had intentionally refrained from any sort of sexual contact for a full 10 days. By the time he stepped foot in the house, the testosterone in his system had built up to seemingly toxic levels. Walking around for the previous few days like a thundercloud just waiting to rip open, when Chase saw all three folks outside back in their original spots, he tightened his grip on Leslie and let all that built-up frustration brutally tear loose. For Closure Ch. 02 "You're the best fuck I ever had," he leaned down and whispered into Leslie's ear. "I wasn't gonna go the rest of my life without coming back and finishing what I started!" "I don't give a fuck what your Husband does this time," he added. "This time I'm done when I say so!" With that, Chase cinched in his grip on Leslie's midriff and pulled her torso straight up until she was standing in his clutched arms, his dick still burrowing divinely inside her. An immediate rush of vertigo blinded Leslie from being pulled up so abruptly, but it wasn't long before her world, changed as it was, slowly came back into focus. "You wanted me bad that night, didn't you?" Chase calmly, but succinctly interrogated. "You wanted to give yourself to me body and soul and you're husband just couldn't stand seeing it!" "Now's your second chance Mrs. Carmen.... Who's bitch are you now?" he crudely prodded. Given the fact that she was bent over and nearly naked in her own kitchen, shamefully bucking her rear end backwards against the stud's incessant thrusts, there was only one true and tangible answer. "....Your's...I'm Your's," she finally admitted, loud enough to hear over the sound of their bodies crashing together. The echo of the married woman's sordid admission rattling around his fevered head, Chase reached down and grabbed Leslie by the right knee, winching it into the air and out to the side, as he pressed her between himself and the sink. "What do you think he'd do if he saw me fucking you right now?" he continued to chide, holding Leslie tight in his arms as he essentially fucked her on one leg. Needing no other answer other than the way Leslie's pussy pulsed and constricted each time his warm and accusatory breath hissed into her ear, Chase held the older woman in that ridiculously lurid, vertically upright position until he could feel the volcanic warmth of his bubbling semen burst through the crust of his self control and begin its rapid journey towards the vessel he'd been saving it for, for nearly a half decade. A haunting sense of deja-vu coursed through Leslie's gristle when she felt the first strains of nuclear fusion taking root deep inside her womb. It was the same exact feeling she was starting to have years earlier with Chase just before her husband snapped, leaving her dangling on the precipice of perhaps the most selfishly glorious release of her life. Despite all the times in private that she vividly wondered just how that night would have ended if fate had been allowed to run it's course, in a million years Leslie never thought she'd ever get a second chance at such crippling joy. Yet, through the brazen, callous but extremely well thought out actions of the man in question, there she was. Feeling Chase drape her right leg to the outside of his and hold her in such a vulnerable position, Leslie soon felt the vibration of her impending orgasm intensify like an oncoming freight train even before he lowered his left hand and squeezed it around her clit once more. "You couldn't even look at him while you were fucking me back at the hotel that night....I remember that," Chase reminded, pinching his fingers around Leslie's clitoris in perfect, rapid fire rhythm with his stabbing thrusts. "I want you to stare straight at him and remember what he took away from you that night, Mrs. Carmen...I sure as Hell remember what he stole from me!" His clitoral stimulation unleashing fireworks in every synapse of her brain, Leslie's only recourse was to reach down and grab the edge of the sink before she literally pulled her hair out from the spastic overload of sensations streaming through her body. Within a minute, her world exploded in a mushroom cloud of fire and light. "UUGGRRAAAHHH..UUURRGGAAHHH..... AAAHHH..AAAHHH..... AAAHHHHHHHHHH... MMMMMM.. MMMMMMMMMM I'MMMMMMMM CCCUUUMMMMMINNNGGGGGGGG," Leslie Carmen started to scream, the last few syllables of that wail, and all the subsequent ones, muffled when she bit down into the flesh of her left forearm to keep the shrill and violent report of her release from carrying outside where her family lazily passed the day away. Less than 100 feet from where he was floating in his luxurious in-ground pool, Lyle Carmen's wife's womb was being flooded with another man's cum. As Lyle sat there dazedly sipping at his expensive, top shelf scotch and dreaming of his next big score, a man less than half his age was holding his wife like an obscene flamingo on one leg in the kitchen while feverishly driving his lust home. Leslie's body whining like an engine as she came in his bearhug grip, Chase shot one potent and sizzling wad of semen after another into the older woman's cunt until it had pasted the inner walls of her churning cauldron. "GGRRAAAHHH...GGRRAAHHHH...UUUUHHH..UUHHHH..GGRRRUUHHHHHHHHH," Chase groaned as well, burying his face into Leslie's left shoulder, just as she'd done her own arm, to keep his savage guttural burst from escaping the walls of the house. ______________________ Turning Leslie around so she was face to face with him, Chase planted several firm kisses, first on her sweaty forehead then on her tingling, saliva drenched lips in a scene be-fitting the cover of one of those cheesy, dime-store romance novels. What was rather un-Harlequinesque was the way Leslie's pussy felt like a franticly shaken bottle of champagne suddenly being uncorked when Chase slid his cock free from her greedy vaginal grip. "OH GOD," she winced, collapsing her full weight against the younger man's chest as a steady stream of his gooey seed slipped from her womb and trickled out in several warm and sticky swaths down the insides of each of her trembling thighs. Meanwhile outside, Lyle Carmen took another sip of his scotch and snuck a sniff of the booger sugar he'd specially wrapped and stored in the breast pocket of his flowery, unbuttoned shirt. Taking a huge, deep breath and shivering with renewed vigor when the cocaine hit his system, Lyle openly remarked at just how good his life was. Flanked by his two beautiful, albeit somewhat troubled, daughters in the ornate backyard of the family's dream home, Lyle couldn't imagine things being more perfect. At that moment, for once, he and his wife at least had something in common. THE END Author's Postscript-- Although the concept was certainly a tad different, I do want to thank C. Thibodeau and L. Everett for the genesis of the fuck scene idea. We all support the team!!