by Taft Sowder
Herman lifted the sledge high over his head.
* * * *
His breathing labored now, Loretta knew it was soon. She found it acceptable; it was soon for her as well. His thick member abusing her canal felt almost too good. Why did it have to end?
“Are you there?” His voice quaked as he panted.
“Yes! Come for me ... Now!” She arched her back and tensed, her muscles squeezing him, intensely caressing him, feeling his ridges and raised veins. He grunted hard as he started into blissful climax; his body shivered and began to quake. He pounded hard, driving deeper than before. His penis throbbed, and she felt the heat fill her. That heat only fueled her, and with her fingers quickly working, she achieved orgasm.
* * * *
Herman climaxed as well, the mere thought of what he waited so long to do sent him to the brink of madness, and the first hammer blow had sent him over. The excitement and release of tension sent vibrant feelings coursing through his nerves and shivering his muscles. His orgasm had spilled into his underwear; every hammer strike sent shock waves over him, like the intensity of sex. The first had released it, the second only kept it going and so on, until his entire being trembled so as he could no longer stand on his own.
He sat on the floor next to his now deceased brother. Frank’s skull, now nothing except brain matter and gore, lay spread out on the cool concrete floor. Blood slowly pooled nearby; Herman sat near the pool, still shuddering with aftershocks.
He laid his head back against the wooden leg of the workbench. Even Loretta never made me feel like this, he thought. Then he looked at his brother’s corpse. His face; or what was left of the mangled heap, stared back at him. Then it hit him hard. He saw his brother there as himself. He knew one day he too would die. The people who knew Frank, they would be looking for him to return soon, if not today, one day soon.
Then his mind conjured images of his youth. He saw the times that he and his brother had enjoyed. Pestering crayfish in their mud castles, squirrel hunting and skipping stones out by the lake; those were the days he enjoyed. A tear rolled down his cheek.
“What have I done?”
* * * *
Loretta thought the same thing. Of course, this was not her first time stepping out on her husband. She had enjoyed the company and love of many men since their marriage had began going downhill.
First, Herman began working odd shifts, home at strange times, but never the same time. It became a burden to make a schedule and get into a routine that way. Then, he quit paying her attention, depriving her of her most primal of needs, so she started fulfilling her lusts elsewhere. It started with innocent masturbation; a woman can masturbate, right? Then, it became a need. She masturbated every day. Sometimes several times a day, and then she found the adult toy shop. That started with the occasional, innocent browsing trip then she made purchases, and then she began paying to watch the porn in the back, even renting DVD’s to bring home. Her first time with a stranger came not long after that. The frumpy, short man with a short, bent penis had brought her no pleasure, but the excitement that she took away from that made her realize that she had needs, and those needs had to be met.
The next, was a business man. He said he was looking for a gag gift for his mother, but she knew that meant he was buying something for another woman. That held no significant meaning to her. She only wanted him for his meat, and he gave her that.
His penis was curved slightly, but thick and just what she needed. She enjoyed him just as she had enjoyed her most recent, in the back of the toy shop in the theater. She enjoyed his company for nearly an hour. The shop owner had come back to check on them at one point, but when she heard them in the throes of passion, decided to leave them alone. He had nearly gotten stuck in her, he swelled so large at the time of climax and her love hole was so small due to under-use or in her case under-abuse that the head did not want to come out. With some work and near the pain of childbirth, she removed herself from him. She had taken many more men by now, but she would always think of him when they were finished.
Now, she stood, steadying herself on the velvety bench seat, not thinking about what kind of bodily fluids stained the fabric. She looked at the man who had just left his seed inside her. He stood with his back to her. The curvature of his smooth back appealed to her. His short, neatly cropped hair trimmed just above the nape of his sweat covered neck. She felt the warmth of his come ooze down her leg.
He was dressing now. She watched him dress, pulling his shirt on over his hairless back and chest. He pulled his pants on one leg at a time. He turned to her and offered her a quick wink. She smiled, a fake smile, but he couldn’t tell the difference. He leaned forward and kissed her and thanked her for the good time.
Loretta didn’t look forward to the long walk from the shop to her house. She really hoped that she would have time to clean up and hide her new item before Herman made it home. As she walked, the wetness between her legs became more. She could feel it running down her legs, behind her knees and onto her socks. This was the part she always dreaded, the walk home. Not knowing if he was home or not; that was the stress that would turn her hair gray one day.
Her thighs were beginning to rub dry. She hoped they didn’t chaff before she could get home and clean up. Not only would chaffed thighs be unsightly, but they would become raw and tender.
Then, she saw a police car. In the driver’s seat sat the man who drove her deep seated fantasies. A cop! He munched a sandwich and stared straight ahead. His cruiser was parked in an alleyway, jutting out enough for him to see around the corner.
Loretta swallowed hard. Though she thought about the man often, she had never thought in a million years that she would run into him again. The fact that he was a public official made it even worse. Could she even be seen talking to him? She knew that her trek home would take her right past his car. Maybe he won’t see me, she thought.
She took a deep breath and held it as she sauntered past the front bumper of the car, carrying the bag low, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She focused on the click of her heels on the pavement. Then, the siren whined and the lights flashed, only for a moment. She stopped.
“Excuse me, young lady,” he said out the side window. She looked up and smiled at him, trying to look surprised.
“Yes, officer, did I do something wrong?” She couldn’t help but to add a flirty tone to her voice. He just brought that out in her.
“Oh, yes ma’am. I believe it is against the law to look that good while you walk down the street. I’m going to have to take you back to my place for questioning.” A broad smile came across his face. His large white teeth gleamed in the sunlight and though his oversized shades blocked that sunlight from his eyes, she remembered his eyes. They were dark and mysterious eyes. The kind a woman could get lost in forever.
“Why, sir, I do hope that you could find it in your heart to let poor little ‘ole me go? Perhaps arrest me another time?” She added a southern accent to her voice, trying to entice the cop and trying to politely inform him that she needed to leave. She needed to, but her feet did not want to go. They stayed firmly planted next to the driver’s door.
She heard the door latch click, and she stepped back. He climbed out. He removed his sunglasses and eyed the bag in her hand.
“Been shoppin’ at our store I see,” he said, fingering the handle of the bag, making extra sure to brush her fingers with his as he moved. The way he said our store, made it sound special. “Maybe we are going to have to go shoppin’ again soon.”
An ardent smile curled her lips. She couldn’t help it. “We should.”
“What ‘bout now? Where are you headed?” He asked and looked down at her intently. She was tall for a woman, but he was so much taller, like Herman, but well built and muscular.
“Well,” she tried to look down and cover her smile with her free hand, �
�I’m on my way home. I’m not sure if my husband is home or not.”
“Shall we find out?”
She looked up, broad grin revealing her pearly whites. “Yes, please.”
It was there, just as she had feared; the hearse. She just knew he would be at home. Something deep in her gut told her that he would be home, but where was Frank’s car? If Frank was not here, there was no need for Herman to still be at home. She had always admired Frank and his headstrong personality. They were nearly identical, so he still lacked in looks, but what he lacked in looks he made up for in quick wit and stamina. That man could argue with a god and win. His driving spirit had once made her wonder if she had chosen the wrong brother by mistake. Herman was a good man, just content to stay at his dead end career and never willing to sacrifice anything for his family.
She looked at the man beside her; she then glanced at his name tag. She had never caught his name before this. Glenn Riverstone. She held up a finger and climbed out of the passenger’s side, careful not to bump his shotgun that stood in its holder. She left her bag on the floor.
She walked as quickly as possible in heels up the stone walkway to the door. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
Herman looked up; he had been in a neurotic daze for far longer than he realized. The door had opened. Then he heard it, Loretta’s voice calling his name. God, he couldn’t let her see this. This would push both of them over the edge. He rose quickly and ascended the stairs, taking care to skip the ones that he knew would squeak.
He heard her footsteps coming closer now. He put an ear to the door. Click, click, click, click. Her footsteps were hurried. Now she stood right outside the basement door, still calling his name. He reached up and with a quick and silent flick locked the door.
Just in time, too. The knob turned just as he locked it. He heard her fiddle with the knob a moment and then give up. She walked away, even more quickly. Click, click, click, click. Her heels resounded against the wood floor. Then, the front door opened, and he heard her call out, but couldn’t make out what she said.
“Come on, and don’t forget my bag!” She called out to Glenn. She could only assume that Herman and his brother had gone on some grand adventure. Obviously it would have been Frank’s idea to leave the house, as Herman never wanted to go anywhere except to work.
Glenn met her at the door. “Are you sure he’s not home? What about the hearse in the driveway?” He eyeballed the black, beastly looking body mover.
“I think he’s with his brother, and yes, he is the local mortician.”
Glenn rolled his eyes and then focused on her. She grabbed his hand and led him quickly inside. She walked hastily, almost pulling him along, and took him to the bedroom and shut the door.
Inside, she playfully snatched her bag from him. She remembered the banter that he had enjoyed so much their first time. From the bag she retrieved an oversized, clear plastic case. Inside lay a vividly detailed fourteen inch, black, fake cock with a suction cup at its base just above the wrinkled scrotum. She looked up and down its massive length and then smiled at Glenn. He looked at them both and returned her smile.
He took the package from her and removed the dildo. He then looked at her and stuck the suction cup to the wall next to the bed. Surprisingly, it stayed. It looked as if some circus freak of a man was trapped behind the wall with only his oversized penis hanging through a hole.
“I want you on that before you get on me,” he said with a determined look and a sly smile.
She hefted her skirt and bent over and slowly backed herself onto it.
* * * *
Herman listened at the door. There had been two sets of footsteps and a door closed down the hall. He had the sledge in hand now. Was Loretta in some kind of trouble? Did she need his help?
He silently unlocked and opened the door. Creeping down the hallway, he could see that his bedroom door stood closed. He felt heavy in his stomach. Surely she wasn’t. He stopped outside the door.
* * * *
They were on the bed by now, both of them completely naked. Glenn kissed her lips and worked his way to her nipples. They became stiff and rigid under his tongue. His mouth felt so good. He worked his way down her smooth, flat stomach.
It hit her then, she had just had sex. She gripped his head, trying to stop him, but he wiggled free. What the hell? She thought. Whatever he wants to do. He went down on her. His tongue probing her and the thrill of knowing what she knew sent shock waves over her body. He obviously had no care or could not tell.
He lifted his head, only for a moment. “You taste so good, baby.” Then he dived back in, his tongue probing her slit. She smiled and stared at the ceiling.
It is official, Loretta Adams, she thought. You are now a certified whore, a dirty, dirty whore, but Goddamn it feels good.
* * * *
Herman stood outside the door, sledge in hand. His right hand, right arm and most of his front torso were covered in blood spatter. He even had blood spatter marks on his face and clothes. His hand quivered. What would he do if she was? Would he burst through the door sledge held high and kill the man? Would he kill Loretta? Lord, he couldn’t do that, no matter what, she was his life.
Enough waiting, he decided, he had to see. Silently he turned the knob and cracked open the door. The room was well lit inside, and he could hear the heavy breaths coming from two people. On the far wall, something protruded. What the hell was that? A huge cock? How could he ever compete with that?
He opened the door a little more and saw his bed. On it, a man knelt behind his wife. He was really giving it to her, Herman thought. He heard her moaning and the man grunting. She never sounded like that for him.
His hand began to shake. He gripped the sledge tightly. He envisioned himself, a madman, running across the room and shattering the skull of the man, driving the sledge home, hard. In his mind, he saw the look of horror and terror on her face. He couldn’t do that to her, not yet.
He watched for a while longer and then closed the door.
In the basement, he laughed quietly to himself as he rocked back and forth before his brother’s corpse. He sat cross legged with the sledge in front of him, between himself and the body. He rocked and laughed as tears streamed down his cheeks. He cried and laughed and banged his head on the table; quite a racket. Loretta might have heard if she wasn’t in the throes of yet another climax.
On this day, Herman Adams lost his mind.
Chapter Three
Lunch was over, and Jessica Adams was going to be late returning to class. Not because she was still eating or because she was in the restroom, but because she had been out at her boyfriend’s car. However, she wasn’t doing what one might have thought. If he had his way, she would have been doing that three months ago, but she was strong willed. She was beginning to think that he would fuck anything that had legs, but she really wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
She hurried along, hearing the bell go off just as she entered the rear double doors. The halls were empty now, except for her. Her ass wiggled from side to side in her mini skirt as she walked. She held her books to her chest, smashing her pert breasts. She thought about what he had said to her. It was almost an insult. She may have dressed like a whore, but she wasn’t a whore.
* * * *
He looked at her, eyed her like he always did. She glanced at him as she shoved a fry in her mouth. He had brought her a cheeseburger and fries as usual, but he really wanted something in return. He continued to stare.
“What?” She asked between chews.
“Nothing,” he replied. He ran his fingers though her long streaked hair; a mix of blonde and caramel brunette. She looked at him. He smiled kindly, but she could still see lust in his eyes.
“How long have we been seeing each other now?”
/> “I don’t know,” she said. “About six months I suppose. Why?” She put down her food and turned toward him in her seat.
He ran a hand through his styled hair and laid his head back, taking a deep sigh. “I was just thinking about it. I was kind of hoping for more.”
“More?”
“Yeah, more; you know.” He pointed toward his crotch.
She sat her food on the dash and leaned in toward him, her hand on his thigh. “You mean you want more than this?” She caressed his crotch; he began to stiffen in her hand.
She jumped back suddenly and sat rigid. A teacher walked by, his head barely visible above the truck’s hood. He glanced over at the two, smiled and waved. She smiled and waved back, and the teacher kept going.
The moment he left their sight, she jumped back into position, just where she left off. She licked his neck and nibbled his ear. He closed his eyes and enjoyed.
“You want more than this?” She licked his neck some more and then unzipped his pants. She took him into her mouth. She worked him like usual; he wasn’t hard to get off. A few minutes later, she swallowed a thick mass of man-seed. It was warm and almost too salty.
He sat breathing heavily then put away his penis and turned to her. “Jessica, I love you. I need more.”
She looked at him, surprised by his outburst.
“I love what you do to me, but I’m a man, I need more.” He was a man, if you really could consider him that. He had been on his own since sixteen and was now only nineteen. He made a living flipping burgers at the same place her food came from, a pretty dead end guy according to her mother.
“I’ve told you, Ray, I’m saving it for the man I marry.”
“Then marry me!” He moved in to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled back.
“I can’t marry you; my parents would never allow it.”
He looked at her, frustration growing. He knew that throwing out an ultimatum might scare her into it. “Marry me or I’m going to have to find someone else.”
