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Debris |
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By Margo Perry
Hurricane Jezebel had spared the island by passing far out at sea that very morning. Four o’clock found the sky free of birds, and trees and flags standing stock still, as if waiting for something. Dark clouds had drawn an early curtain over the day’s light, trapping a syrupy heat below. There was no air.
“I’m so hot and horny,” Hazel murmured, raising off the bed to lift the riot of maize curls off her long neck. “I need relief. Please cover my body with cool kisses.”
“No can do,” Walter said, rushing from pillar to post as he packed his overnight case. “I’d better hurry. We don’t know what this weather’s going to do.”
Hazel settled back against the pillows, squirming over the chenille bedspread. Its tiny knobs were fabric grains of sand marking her bare skin. She ran her dark lacquered nails over the mountainous heaving flesh of her bronze breasts, all the while gnawing the inside of her lower lip. Her usually greenish kaleidoscope eyes were now a murky grey. She glanced up at the ceiling mirror and what she saw mocked her. She saw a thirty-five year old lawyer, spread-eagled and dressed for seduction; panting to please a man who was about to leave for the weekend.
Fuck you, Walter!
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as a sudden gust of hot air lifted the four-poster’s fine net panels, brushing Hazel’s naked belly on the way up and floating back over breasts that swelled with the need to be touched. Winning had always turned her on and today’s victory was a big one. What she couldn’t help thinking about was that Walter had been the loser, even though he’d insisted she take the case. And Walter didn’t like losing.
You defended your client and won. You did your job.
There was logic in what her head was telling her, but she felt sorry for Walter anyway. Maybe a weekend with the boys was just what he needed. She sat up, determined to be supportive.
“I hope you enjoy the weekend,” she said. “You deserve it. You’ve been working too hard.”
“I don’t need your sarcasm! What are you trying to do, Hazel? Upset me? Put some clothes on!”
Hazel felt all her good intentions haemorrhage out of her.
“You’re an idiot, Walter” she said.
“Now, you’re angry?! How dare you? Just because you beat me in court doesn’t mean that you can disrespect me in my own home!”
Walter paced around the bed, as grand as his nervous five foot nine frame would allow, exploding at his fiancée who was again lounging on the bed, all legs and curves and large, juicy breasts.
“How have I disrespected you Walter?” she asked, calmly.
Her cell phone began ringing out of her briefcase.
“Saved by the bell,” she said, jumping off the bed, and brushing past Walter.
She kicked off her high-heeled sandals, scurrying as fast as she could. She felt foolish. Her gargantuan breasts rocked and jiggled in her lacy white bra, while her matching panties played peek-a-boo with the natural V of her soft pussy hair. She opened her case, snatched and answered her phone.
“One moment, please.” Hazel no longer wanted to be under-dressed in Walter’s presence.
Did that woman just ask for Mrs. Walter Martin?
She ran across the room and grabbed a pair of her jeans and a sweatshirt from Walter’s closet, tugging them on as she stumbled back toward her curious call. She retrieved her cell and walked onto the terrace that fronted the house’s ocean view.
“Hazel here,” she said.
My name’s Holly and I know your husband. He’s a very charming man, but I believe he’s taking my roommate for a spin, promising to divorce you and marry her. She’s believing his bullshit, hook, line and sinker. Are you getting a divorce Mrs. Martin?
“I’m not Mrs. Martin and if what you say is true, I’ll never be.”
Hazel stared out at the sea that had begun to roil and foam. She tried to concentrate on the sound of waves crashing against ancient rock, but the woman was still talking. Words kept coming, jabbing themselves down Hazel’s throat too quickly for her to swallow or understand.
I know this is none of my business, but this has been going on for over six months and I think she’s in way over her head. She’s talking marriage and I’m very worried.
The wind had picked up. Hazel listened to its howl, watched it toss brown pine cones from spindly green branches onto white rooftops and freshly cut lawns. They’d be hell to pick up. She sighed deeply. The air smelled of salt and damp seaweed.
Say something. Don’t just let her go on and on.
“How did you get my cell number?”
Your husband, I mean Walter, is very careless. He leaves his phone about when he’s here. I admit, I checked it and found your number. I’m phoning now because Doris is expecting him shortly, so I didn’t think he’d be home. According to him, he beat you in court and you’re sulking your way through the weekend, just to punish him. Poor man just had to get away.
The woman’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Hazel wore a gentle smile, the same mask that had garnered her the reputation of being the best courtroom poker player around. She gazed at the diamonds sparkling around her emerald engagement ring and shuddered. Would the woman ever stop talking?
What did he tell you? That one of the lawyers are hosting an emergency retreat, that one of them is in trouble? Those retreats are bogus. Those attorneys run wild and cover for each other. I know because I’m a clerk in one of their office’s.
Hazel couldn’t take anymore.
“Thanks for your concern,” she said. “I’ll have to take it from here and if any of this is true, Doris can have him.”
Not if I have anything to say about it! Goodbye.
Hazel hung up and stood in the doorway watching her fiancé pack. He stacked his socks, shirts and underwear with meticulous care. She pictured his messy desk and prayed that his personal life was as orderly as his suitcase, but her heart ached with doubt. Without a word, she slipped across the room, down the stairs and through the kitchen to the garage, her mind racing all the while. What had led up to all this?
“You could win partner after this,” Walter had said, backing the car into the garage when they got home from court.
“I don’t want to be a partner. My present workload is all I want to handle,” she’d said, touching his thigh. “Let’s forget all this stuff and enjoy our weekend together. We’ve been much too busy.”
She’d rushed to the bathroom, leaving Walter in the garage, but remembered wondering why he’d jumped back in the car to pop the hood. Plus, he’d stayed downstairs for quite a while, leaving her more than enough time to strip and make a fool of herself. He’d returned with a suitcase and news that he’d received an emergency call and had to leave. Pronto!
What had he been doing down here?
She lifted the hood and found a suitcase three times the size of the one he was so carefully packing upstairs. Hazel flipped the unzippered flap.
That’s more like it!
This bag was hurriedly packed and for a different kind of getaway: Three bottles of our favourite red wine. Beside the treat-filled suitcase, a cooler of goodies. Swimming trunks, casual stuff. On top was his cell phone and a copy of Gibran’s, The Prophet.
He’s dating himself.
She wanted to be cruel. And selfish. To feel anything but this pain. She was locked in an emotional cave. The water was rising fast, as the walls crumbled and dissolved around her. A whole world was crushing her heart as it spurted and raged, catching breaths when it could. She was devastated, but this was no time for tears.
She opened the Gibran and looked inside, To My Loving Doris, her busy bee of a fiancé had scrawled.
She grabbed his cell and called up the last number he’d dialled. It was the same number Holly had called from.
He called her, the bastard!
She checked the last number that had called him. It was hers, calling from her office to placate him after she’d beat his ass, winning complete freedom for her client. Instead of having a drink with her ecstatic boss and proud fellow solicitors, she had called Walter to tell him that she was looking forward to their weekend and that she’d meet him at the car. What a fool she’d been!
She started to lower the flap. One more pat and she felt something hard. Underneath a pair of shorts, she found the dildo and lubricant he’d bought for them to finally use this weekend. To prepare her for the backdoor invasion that she, as yet, hadn’t permitted; that Walter wanted more than anything. Even that, he was taking to someone else. Jealousy, heartbreak and anger collided, making her head ache and she could feel her foundation disintegrating again. An anxiety attack was on its way.
Snap out of this! You’re a lawyer and not the first woman to be screwed. Woman-Up!
Before she’d accepted Walter’s proposal, she questioned whether he was looking for a monogamous or open relationship. She told him that she would embrace either contract, but would never abide a double standard. It was Walter who had insisted on a monogamous relationship and the promise of marriage, sealed with an exorbitant engagement party and ring. And all the while, he was firmly ensconced in an affair, already practicing the double standard that she’d warned she wouldn’t suffer. There was nothing more to say. Monogamy was like pregnancy, an absolute. Therefore, Hazel was now a free agent. She could fuck anybody she pleased, in Walter’s face, if she chose. He’d given her a free pass for life.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead. It felt like the earth had moved and Hazel felt the shift in her pussy. She was still angry, but she was also horny, determined to survive, and strangely exhilarated. It would take more than Walter Martin to rain on her parade.
She lowered the hood. She was again a lawyer defending herself and Holly had been right. Walter was a very, very careless man. A wry chuckle escaped her dry throat, as she left the garage and headed back upstairs.
She met Walter halfway up. He was carrying his ridiculous faux-bag and Hazel’s briefcase and sandals.
“I thought I’d drive through the city and drop you off at your condo. I’m sure you’d be happier there. That storm is still hanging about.”
Hazel stood with one hand on the railing, the other extending to the wall, completely blocking his path.
“I was promised a weekend at the beach and that’s exactly what I’m going to have,” she said, stripping off her sweatshirt.
Walter loves the ta-tas.
Hazel folded an arm under her tits, presenting them like a basket of fleshy fruit ready to be plucked, sucked and devoured. She slowly traced her own lips with her pink tongue, while twisting a nipple. And then moved against Walter, a wave of hungry female flesh, pressing her huge tits all over him, riding him until he dropped everything and collapsed on the stairs.
“I’m horny. Make me happy before you go.”
It was an order. Hazel stepped over him and strode up the steps to the bedroom.
Walter likes to be humiliated.
She chose the carpet instead of the huge bed because she wanted Walter ’s discomfort, wanted to see him crawl on his knees. She lay back, wriggled out of her jeans and underpants, pulled her sweatshirt over her head and hefted her breasts inside her bra to create the most overwhelming cleavage. She spread her legs lewdly.
On cue, Walter panted into the room, rushing to the bed to discard his jacket and grab two pillows. He placed them expertly under Hazel’s hips and crawled between her legs. He spread her pussy lips with careful fingers and breathed hot breaths over her ripening clit. He tasted the inside of her folds with a vibratory tongue and electric nibbles.
“You’re good,” Hazel said, shivering as exquisite currents of pleasure coursed through her.
“It’s my job,” Walter stopped long enough to brag. “Got to keep my baby happy!”
“Good boy,” Hazel encouraged.
She gave herself over to the pleasure, moving with his mouth or against his fingers to enhance her rapture. The entrance to her pussy began to contract and pulse its desperate need to be invaded. “I want your cock,” Hazel said.
Walter didn’t react. She reckoned he was thinking about Doris and how late he was.
Fuck her! She’ll have to settle for my leftovers.
Hazel was fingering her pussy, stroking herself to keep riding her wet and gooey wave. Impatient, she thrust her pelvis into the air.
“If you can’t manage, give Georgie a call. He might be seventy-five, but all that landscaping keeps him in better shape than you’ll ever be.”
Walter grunted as he struggled up. His pants, shirt, tie and underwear flew off his body, landing everywhere. His cock was bigger than Hazel had seen in a long, long while and, as she stared, even her belly started to crave Walter’s cock. His eyes gleamed, just as they had in the beginning when he was pursuing her. He aimed his weapon and teased her pussy mouth, making it water with anticipation.
If Walter was anything, he was predictable, and his blind and rabid jealousy was something she could always depend on. He started to fuck her slowly, in and out and around. His face was a deliberate mask, a study in concentration. He was in control, again. He was pleasing her and he had no intention of coming for a long time.
“Why would you want old Georgie when you can have this?”
“Because we saw what Georgie could do when we caught him with his chair in front of Tilly’s pussy, giving her the goods in the middle of the afternoon. That woman was crying like a cat on a hot tin roof and they’ve been married fifty years. Now, that’s some man. He’ll please his woman even when he’s too tired to stand up!”
“Be quiet, Hazel,” Walter said, pumping harder.
“Make me!”
She moved quickly, turning him onto his back and taking his cock deep inside as she straddled him. She ground into him, bending back to tickle his balls. She laughed when he groaned in ecstasy and his balls disappeared. Then leaning forward, she threatened to smother him with her tits.
“Please,” Walter begged. “Don’t make me come.”
Hazel reached beneath herself and began to manipulate her clit. She rode him for her own pleasure. She flung her head back and rocked and rolled all over him, until his face slackened helplessly and he filled her pussy with his come.
Walter lay, spent and silent, but as soon as courtesy allowed, he escaped to the bathroom, clothes in hand. Hazel didn’t mind. She’d drained him and made him late. That would have to do for now.
Walter was a wonderfully satisfying lover, but Hazel was still restless. Pure sex had been great, but she liked hers sticky with love. She listened to Walter showering. He was oblivious to the fact that his behaviour had altered her life completely and that made him a virtual stranger. That made her angry again.
She sat up, reaching behind to unhook her bra. Her breasts spilled into her lap. She got off the carpet and stretched out on the bed, completely naked. That would annoy Walter. He would expect her to be up and dressed. Torturing him with her body and tits was much more fun than ranting and raving her empty sorrow.
Walter is a scatter man, Planting seeds wherever he can.
As long as she remembered that she was merely one of his flowers, all would be well, that and making sure there were condoms around.
In quick time, Walter was back, dressed and ready to go.
“I’m not looking at you , Hazel,“ he boomed. “If you want to get dressed, I’ll drop you in town.”
“I’m staying,” Hazel said, raising on to an elbow, putting herself on further display. “George and Tilly are both here if I need them.”
“I told them that we were driving back to the city. I gave them the weekend off.”
“That’s fine,” Hazel said. “There’s food and wine. Movies. Everything I had planned for the two of us. I’ll enjoy my weekend. Now go. Retreat!”
Hazel didn’t want to be dropped off in town. She wanted more of what was being whispered on the wind, something primitive and powerful that she felt in her groin. More passion. More life in her life.
“You shouldn’t be here alone,” Walter repeated, picking up his case.
He strode over to the bed to give her a quick peck on her cheek, but Hazel reached out to grab, rub and squeeze his cock and balls. He twisted out of her grasp, but not in time. She dismissed him with a raging, scared, hard cock.
Hazel went back out on the terrace to watch Walter drive away. He was already talking on his phone and she had never been so happy to see him go. She stretched out her arms, enjoying the warmth gusting against her naked skin. Her huge breasts seemed to be absorbing the moisture from the air, getting heavier, and her swollen nipples rose and tingled with anticipation. But for what?
Suddenly, the sky was besieged by an army of black birds swooping and squawking away from the sea. She looked at her engagement ring in the gathering dusk. It looked dull, like it needed cleaning and she suddenly didn’t want it on her finger.
Walter had shared the combination to his safe, when she’d needed to store some documents. Back in the bedroom, she put the ring in the box that still sat on Walter’s dresser and placed it in his safe. Her hand brushed something cold, Walter’s gun, and as thunder crashed overhead and forked lightning split the sky, Hazel felt fear crawl beneath her clammy skin.
You knew it was there. Don’t be dramatic.
Hazel hated guns, but she’d been forced to understand a need for them. Walter had taken on a criminal organization that was relieving seniors of their precious life savings and had busted their operation wide open. They’d threatened his life seriously enough to warrant police protection for months and when that was lifted, he was given training and a gun to protect himself. Hazel tried not to think about it.
She shivered as a cool blast from the north broke the heat. She closed the door to the balcony and stretched out on the bed. Her head was banging, but she was exhausted. She took deep breaths, concentrating on the sound of the howling wind, and soon fell asleep.
She awoke to rain and a pillow drenched with tears from a dream now forgotten. She looked at her empty finger. Walter was somewhere making another woman feel wanted. He had long ago washed the smell of her from his face and cock. By now he was denying her very existence.
The smell of a piquant tomato sauce and fresh bread drifted upstairs. Tilly must have come back! Hazel was surprised at how thrilled she was not to be alone. Good wine and good food was waiting. It was time for a mood change.
She checked the clock: 7:05PM. She’d been sleeping for over two hours. She ran to the bathroom, cleaned her teeth and decided to take a quick shower. She was surprised at how hungry she was.
She dressed as she had planned to dress for Walter. The side slits in her ankle length beige gown rode high as if trying to meet the deep V of her bodice. So much flesh displayed, but that’s how Walter liked her, as slutty and seductive as a dedicated whore could make it. She had been so looking forward to this play weekend. She put on her feather drop earrings and primped her sun-bleached curls. She dabbed a drop of Opium behind her ears and smeared a glaze of natural wet lipstick over her full lips. She didn’t have to look in the mirror. She knew she was gorgeous. She knew she was a ready, but rejected woman who was all dressed up with nowhere to go. She ran down the stairs, across the kitchen and into Tilly’s arms like a lost puppy who’d finally found her way home. Tilly gathered her in her plump arms, petting and cooing, while Hazel burrowed her face deep in Tilly’s warm bosom.
“Are those tears? Pull yourself together girl. You got company.” She used both hands to right Hazel firmly on her own two feet. “Mr. Alex is waiting for you in the den.”
“Alex? What’s he doing here?”
“Mr. Walter ordered him to come get you and take you back to town. I told him you were sleeping and he told me to leave you alone. He’d wait.”
“And what about you? I thought he’d given you the weekend off?”
“He had. But he reskinned it,” Tilly said.
Tilly’s parents had emigrated to the island from Portugal when she was eight. Since then, she’d been trying to learn word after word, after confusing word.
“Rescind, Tilly. R-E-S-C-I-N-D,” Hazel said. “And I’m going to ratify it.” Hazel checked the stove. Tilly had made egg bread and a spaghetti casserole. “Thanks for all this wonderful food, but it’s time for you to go. I bet Georgie is waiting impatiently. I can take it from here.”
“Are you sure, Miss Hazel?” Tilly asked, beaming.
“I’m sure,” Hazel said. “You and Georgie are a beautiful thing!”
Tilly blushed mightily. “Well, don’t forget Mr. Alex. He’s in there having a drink.”
“I’ll ask him to share your wonderful dinner.”
“You do that, dear,” Tilly said, hugging Hazel again. Tilly wasn’t the demonstrative type. The excess of emotion flowing out of her was uncharacteristic. “There’s no earthly reason for you to be alone.”
Am I the only one who didn’t know that Walter’s a dog? Tilly feels sorry for me. I just fucked that asshole, but he’ll never fuck mine! Forget Walter. Alex is waiting. Alex
Hazel and Alex had met the last week of law school and fallen hopelessly in love. They’d filled their days with the smell of each other’s skin, kisses and touches that thrilled; a schedule of love-making that kept them imprisoned in Alex’s off-campus apartment for long days and nights. Then they’d separated, off to different cities, separate lives and summer jobs, ending their love affair before life had a chance to do it for them.
The next time she’d seen him was at the Attorney General’s Christmas cocktail party where Walter had introduced them. Alex nor Hazel had let on that they knew each other and spoke only to promise, for Walter’s sake, to stay away from each other. And they had, despite the fact that Alex was never again far from Hazel’s mind. Until now. Until a controlling Walter, desperate to get Hazel away from his house, had thrown them together.
“Here, take this,” Tilly said. The tray boasted a slab of old cheddar, some grapes, crackers and a salmon pâté. “Are you going to have a glass of wine or something stronger?”
“I’ll have a Scotch with Alex and maybe some wine with dinner,” Hazel said. “You get down to the cottage and enjoy your Georgie.”
“Will do,” Tilly said, humming as she folded her apron and placed it in a drawer. “It’s still clean,” she announced, moving toward the door.
Hazel headed for the study. She stood outside the doorway, trembling. To Walter, Alex was a co-counsel and friend. But, he was Hazel’s one-week stand and first lover. He was just behind that door. And now, she was available.
She opened the door and Alex seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Let me help you,” he grinned, grabbing her tray.
Hazel gave it up, but stood zombie-like, glued to the spot. She was stunned by him. She wanted to crawl inside his arms where she knew she’d be safe. She stared down at her feet. They calmed her. A barefoot person had no choice, but to be herself. She padded behind him, across the room to the fire that crackled with spitting flames and warmth.
Alex sat the tray down on the coffee table and lowered himself onto the floor, his back bolstered by a hassock. Hazel stood looking down at him. Here he was in Walter’s house. So much had happened so quickly that Hazel felt as if loves and times had collided. The past and present were in total flux.
“Sit,” Alex said, patting the floor. “It’s been a long time. Relax!”
He took a grape from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “Do you still peel the skin off grapes, eat them, and then eat the skins you just peeled off?”
Hazel took a grape and, after biting into it carefully, began to peel it skilfully. Their laughter filled the room. “My turn. Do you still drink beer like you’re really thirsty and sip wine like you’re fatally dehydrated and wine’s the only liquid left on earth?”
“I do,“ Alex said. His blue eyes twinkled and he stretched his long, slender frame sideways, resting his head in his palm. He was prematurely grey, but still looked twenty something again in his jeans and black T-shirt. “I have acquired a taste for red wine with meals and tonight, if you’ll notice, I’m a male sophisticate, sipping Chivas.”
“I don’t suppose you could make me one of those. I’ve had a hell of a day.”
Alex got up and crossed to the Wet Bar in the corner. “Do you still listen to French music stations even if you can hardly understand a word of French?”
“Yeah, and my favourite is a university station coming out of Montreal. You got your Classical, your Jazz, your Broadway and all those sensuous, passionate words in between. Yummy.”
Alex brought her drink and sat again, closer to her this time. She felt vulnerable. Her breasts began to heave and her pussy throb. The coffee table was at her back and she couldn’t escape.
“You know when Walter called, I told him that you were quite old enough to decide where you wanted to spend the weekend, but he insisted. Said that you were too stubborn to realize how bad the storms could get out here. So, I decided to come and save you.”
“Walter didn’t want me alone in his house. Too many secrets. But they’re all out now.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had planned to have a great weekend, no matter who won the case, but by the time we got here, all hell broke loose. He was called to go to an emergency retreat and some woman was calling to tell me that there was no retreat, that he had a woman stashed somewhere.” Hazel’s voice was reed-thin.
“Doris,” Alex said.
“You know about her?” Hazel asked.
Alex opened his arms and Hazel melted into them, weeping. His hold grew stronger as she became more hysterical. She cried for love lost and deceit found. She cried because she was finally in the arms of the man who she believed would keep her safe and let her be.
When she stopped blubbering, he kissed her cheeks and her nose and the sensitive patches around her ears. They were soon groping on the floor, the panels of her dress twisting around her as they rolled over each other. She could feel his hard cock pressing into her as he pulled and massaged her gargantuan breasts.
“Some things haven’t changed,” she said. “You still love these.”
“And I still love you,” he said.
He placed her on her back and reached under her dress to relieve her of her soaking panties. He smelled them. “I remember,” he said, unzipping and pulling out his fully engorged cock.
Thunder rumbled across the sky and the rain beat harder on the roof and panes. Lightening scorched the atmosphere as Alex fed his long thick cock into Hazel’s waiting pussy.
“No more Walters,” he said, easing into her. “Just us, now.”
He remembered her pussy’s sensitive spots and rubbed them gently. Her response grew deeper, hotter, more electric. She loved his square jaw and his eyes that were moist with passion.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, as she began to buck against him, and soon they were racing against the clock.
“Don’t stop,” she screamed.
And before long, they cried their mutual orgasms, he after she, and then collapsed in an untidy heap.
Hazel peeled another grape and fed it to Alex.
“I still like my skin on my grape.”
They giggled like naughty children and then Alex sat up, crossing his legs guru style. She followed suit. He took her hands in his own.
“I know what we have here,” he said. “I know it’s big and precious, but you’re going through hell.”
“I’m not. I love you and it’s over with Walter.”
“Not quite. This afternoon you were planning to marry him. You haven’t begun to feel or sort through the pain and meaning of all this.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t need to,” Hazel insisted.
“You are stubborn,” Alex said, “but for our sakes, you’ll have to work things out with Walter or end things, before we move on. Fidelity may not be Walter’s thing, but he’d kill for you. I’ve gotten to know him. He’s a good man and he trusts me, but he‘s damaged. This thing has to be handled very carefully.”
“But it’s all his fault,” Hazel said.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re talking about feelings here.”
Having to keep away from Alex again wasn’t what Hazel wanted to hear, but she had to agree that it was best. The thunder roared, louder this time and right overhead. A dog barked and a door slammed in the distance.
“I thought I heard something. Are all the windows shut?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, everything’s locked up tight,” Hazel said. “I’ll talk to Walter the minute he gets back. I don’t want to waste another moment away from you.”
“Good girl,” Alex said. “We’ll just cool it until you and Walter are sorted.”
“Alright, but I don’t like it,” Hazel said. “Tilly cooked. Feel like some dinner?”
“I’m starving,” Alex said.
Together they walked to the kitchen. Hazel turned on the stove to warm dinner. Alex was at her back, his arms around her. He twisted her nipple and smoothed circles over her belly. Hazel pressed her ass back into his hard cock and the fire spread quickly out of control. Hazel’s panties were still on the living room floor. She twisted into Alex, shoving her tongue inside his mouth. Taking him. She turned away and bent over the table. She pushed Tilly’s slab of butter toward him. She grabbed her skirt, pulling it out of the way. She spread her ass cheeks.
“Take what Walter wanted most,” she screamed into the summer hail that now plopped in uneven rhythms. “Fuck my ass!”
Her tits lay mashed on the table. Alex rubbed butter on his cock, into and around her asshole. He used his fingers first and then took her slowly, waiting as her muscles contracted in surprise. He nudged, in and out, until Hazel felt her muscles relax and the pleasure begin.
“Yes, fuck my ass,” she cried. “And fuck you, Walter.”
That’s when she saw him reflected in the glass doors, his gun glinting at the end of his dropped arm. But, it wasn’t the gun that filled her with terror. It was his grief and horror, the tears streaming down his now grotesque face that she was sure he would leave no witness to.
“No!” she screamed. “Walter, no!”
“That’s right,” Alex said, slamming his cock into her ass. “No more Walter! Fuck Walter!”
“No!” she screamed again.
The three blasts were deafening. The following silence was full of pain. And then nothing.
Hazel survived an operation and five days in a coma, drifting out of nothingness slowly enough to know she was in a hospital, long before she opened her eyes. Bright lights had flickered behind her comatose eyelids. Her nostrils had filtered the odour of harsh disinfectants and diseased lives. Machines had beeped and buzzed, alarmed and fallen silent. Voices had come and go.
Walter and Alex hovered over her from opposite sides of the bed. Their faces, wracked with grief and fatigue, cracked wide open with relief when she opened her eyes. Walter held one of her hands in a death grip, while Alex sat, both arms in a sling. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Her head felt full of movable parts and her vision was blurry. All three of them were trapped in a triangle of love, lust and deceit so dense that it had sucked the air out of the room and almost taken their lives. They would have to learn to breathe again. Respect life again.
She wanted to hug them both, but she was too tired.
“I love you,” Hazel said, just before drifting into a blessed, natural sleep. |