DarklyEverAfter

by Allistar Parker

  “Where’s Ann?” I asked as Rikki stared at Tommy’s body with a look of horror on her face. “Where”

  “I don’t know.”

  I grabbed her by the arm and shook her. The commotion brought her from the shock of seeing her boyfriend shot. Most importantly to me, she reacted to the touch by attacking me with all of her strength. I hated the fact that she was upset, but I couldn’t have this.

  “Where’s the old man?”

  She didn’t answer. I threw her on the bed. Cocking the hammer, I repeated my question once again.

  “At home. Ann and the old man were fighting when we left.”

  There was nothing I could do to explain this to the police. I didn’t bother worrying about it. I shot Rikki and placed the gun next to her body after I rubbed her fingers all over it. I rubbed the cartridges over her fingers to make sure there was powder on her shooting hand. With the room a mess, I stole the glass I was drinking out of and threw it under a car near the scene. Once the guy drove over it, there would be no trace of my appearance in the room. Too bad for the guy with the flat tire, though. He hadn’t done anything. I left Rikki in her own pool of blood and headed for their car. Tommy was nice enough to have the keys and another gun in his pocket.

  Along the road, I fiddled with the radio. I hated AM, but that is the lot in cars today. Some poor guy was pleading for his life in some old radio show being broadcast by a station in Cleveland, so far away from us that I almost turned to another station, but on some nights the station was clear as a bell. Must be the weather.

  The house sat on a moonlit hill just beyond the city limits. Nothing was moving, not the trees nor the bushes. I was sure the old man would have guards standing by the gate and the doors in case his plan to kill me didn’t work. Along the sidewalk, I didn’t even see any signs of movement. The grass was wet from dew, but there were no footprints on the concrete.

  In the window, I could just make out Ann sitting in the chair frantically loading her purse. First there was women’s stuff, hair pins, lipstick, some sort of compact and a brand-new pistol. I thought for a moment about her old gun, the one I gave her last year, pearl handles and some gold filigree with the inscription that let her know I loved her love nest best.

  The foyer looked like a museum, filled with paintings and a huge chandelier hanging down from the two story cathedral ceilings. A glance to the left and right might have been a good choice before walking through the long hall to the drawing room at the back of the house. I would have liked to know what was happening around the house before I tried to save Ann, but my haste outweighed my logic and I rushed to her side.

  Each step in the hall sent chills up my spine as I was sure they could be heard all over the house. Whether it was the butler or the maid, all of Roger’s servants were loyal. If they found me, I would spend the last few minutes of my life wondering just how he would end it. To my delight, I made it into the drawing room.

  Ann sat on the couch holding a new small pistol in her hand. She had never pointed a gun at me before, but I found it rather sexy. Sobering, but sexy. Ann never blinked. She just sat on the couch and followed my movements with the barrel of the gun.

  “It’s just me. Is he home?” I asked as I looked around the room in search of whatever necessitated the pistol in the first place.

  “He is upstairs,” she said calmly. The look on her face never changed.

  I wanted to run to her and hug her, but keeping her safe was paramount. If he tried to kill me, surely she was next. I searched behind the curtains, under the table and all the other places I thought someone might be hiding. When I was satisfied the room was safe, I turned to her with a big smile across my lips.

  “Let’s go. I have a car outside.”

  She rolled her eyes in the direction of the door. “Tommy’s?”

  I nodded my head.

  “Pity, I sort of liked him. I assume they are both dead?”

  “We have to hurry,” I insisted. “Let’s go before Roger hears us and comes down.”

  Ann still didn’t move, except to keep the barrel pointing at me. “Perhaps it is a good time to confront my dear husband with the news. I don’t think he will respond, but one never knows.”

  Finally, she moved. I began to walk to the stairs in the foyer, watching each corner as we went. I don’t know if I really believed I would kill him for her, but after the other two at the motel, I didn’t see much difference. One reason is as good as another. Tapping along the hall, I again, feared the servants would hear us. Ann obviously didn’t have the same fear as she kept clopping along with those high heels echoing throughout the house. Along the way, I watched the doors and corners for any surprise. Roger must be dead not to hear all this noise.

  The door to his office was slightly ajar revealing a normal room, nothing out of place or shuffled around like there might have been a struggle. The only thing out of place was a large paper shopping bag, and the painting hiding the safe was askew. The closer I got the more I feared his wrath. Reaching in my back pocket, I retrieved Tommy’s gun for protection. I rolled the door completely open and entered. In the back of the room, behind the desk sat Roger, slumped over as if he just fell asleep at his work.

  “You know, darling,” Ann said as she followed me in the room. “I think Roger is out of it.”

  Out of it was right. There, before me, God and everyone, was a bullet hole straight through his skull. A line of blood had rolled down his head and coated his shirt in a crimson hue not usually found on him. His eyes stared straight ahead as if to mock the world with his demise. Swinging his chair to face me, I looked over his body for any sign of who had done this, but I knew. She had done it.

  “If he was already dead, why wait here for me? Couldn’t you just come to the motel?”

  She looked at me as if she was sizing me up for the chump I had been all along. “And be there when the two killed you? Sorry. Not my thing.”

  “I lived.” I walked in her direction, pointing the gun at her just as she had done with me.

  “A shame, really. I paid good money for those nymphos to give you a treat before dying. I hope it was pleasurable?”

  “It was fine.” Fine didn’t describe what I felt but the details of their demise might not have been the best use of my time.

  Along the edge of the rug was a beautiful mahogany floor that dated back to before the Civil War. She clicked along the boards on the way to the divan in the corner. As she sat across the length of the cushions, her heels draped over the edge and exposed the depth and length of her legs. All along her thighs, the fishnets crossed her skin with such grace and beauty I could barely keep my mind on the barrel pointing at me. She knew just how to work me.

  “So, where do we go from here?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say she was going to kill me. Even a boy of twelve could figure out I was going to be the patsy to take the fall for killing her husband. I was the man who was having an affair with his wife. We must have struggled and I killed him. I just wasn’t sure how the script ran that I would somehow commit suicide.

  “Rape, darling,” she said as she unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. “You raped me and I had to shoot you to keep you from killing me.”

  I thought for a minute. “What if the other two had succeeded in killing me?”

  Her gazed intensified. “I hoped you would win, but I hedged my bet. I had the firing pin removed from Tommy’s gun. Even you couldn’t fail with the odds tipped in your favor.” She was relaxing more, swinging the gun from side to side as she talked. “I am so glad you brought it along. This is so much easier without your gun.”

  Pointing the revolver to the wall, I pulled the trigger several times. The alarming cloud of silence was more disturbing than the cackling Ann was doing on the divan. Her long torso shook as she laughed, realizing she had me cornered. I guess the look on my face was precious. Holding the gun to my head, I clicked one final time. “Guess I’m yours.”

  Nothing about Ann had
ever indicated that she could plan such a heinous crime. She was sweet in a disturbing sort of way, but her strong-willed attitude made her more alluring. I felt like she had played the game well. She played me, Roger, and the kids like she never wanted us to even know what she had done. I loved that aspect of her.

  The room was too wide to make a jump for the gun. Even though her reclined state made her look vulnerable, a simple squeeze of the trigger would show me just how dangerous that woman behind the great legs and pretty smile could be. Twenty-one feet and you are faster than her reactions and ability to fire. Twenty-two feet and you end up a lumpy carpet at the dump.

  The special exposure of her crotch as she stretched her legs over the ottoman looked so 1960’s. She had trimmed the bush back, slicked the sides of her legs and worn panties made for guys to drool over. Back in my day, that was called a floozy. I had to pinch myself to see if I had finally made my way into the new decade.

  “Get over here,” she said as she rolled her head to the wall.

  The walk over took forever. Each step on the mahogany echoed throughout the room. I smiled, knowing now I didn’t have to try to quiet my walk. Her legs were spectacular, thin and completely exposed to me. Following the line of the stockings to their conclusion, I could see that bundle of pubic hair hanging outside of the elastic on her panties. Throwing her leg to the ottoman to her left placed her pussy in my path. I had missed those hairy lips.

  “Get down there and suck my pussy. Maybe if you do it right, you can come before you go.”

  I couldn’t believe the break I had prayed for was coming. Leaning in to kiss her face before descending into her garden made Ann blush. The gun barrel pressing against my temple also impressed her point and brought us back to our original position. Leaning into her pussy, I licked her right on the one spot she can’t bear for any length of time.

  “That’s getting to my heart.” She took her empty hand and forced my face deeper into her twat.

  Making her come would take her attention off me and place it where I wanted, on her. Once she swooned, I could take the gun and make my way out of the door. With a few hours head start, I could be out of town and gone, loaded with anything that would fit in the car as my reward. If I was to be caught, theft would be the last thing on the police’s mind. Bearing down on her clitoris with great intensity, I licked as fast as I ever had, making sure not to miss one little shiver, muscle contraction or moan along the way. I had her just about to the point I could overtake her. I slipped my middle finger in, using a curling motion. She never failed to react to that. The little river of juices began to form in her pussy before rolling down her crack until it pooled on the couch.

  “Back off. Lean against the chair.” The gun tapping me on the head punctuated the order.

  I rug-burned my knees on the way to the chair. Sitting back against the chair’s legs, I returned my gaze to her glistening pussy and soaking hair. The pistol was still slightly intimidating, but it was a view a man could get over. Settling in the seat, I marveled at the way she traced her cunt lips with her index finger.

  “Pull your dick out,” she barked. “Pull that nine inch dick out of those pants.”

  Shocked at the sudden change in her demeanor, I froze.

  “Pull it out or I will shoot it off.”

  Shooting my penis off wasn’t as good an idea as she thought it was. If she dismembered me, I wouldn’t be able to fuck her, and I planned to. I unzipped my pants and struggled to dig my hand into my underwear. A few seconds more, I had that rascal out and standing tall, a huge feat considering all the stuff I had done just an hour before.

  “Now, suck it.”

  Suck it? I will admit that when I was a teenager, I could give the old boy a few licks just to get him aroused, but I never ever sucked my dick. Not like she wanted.

  “I still have the gun.”

  Under the guise of keeping the peace, I bent as far forward as I could and stuck my tongue out. I remember the distance from my tongue to my dick being somewhat shorter. I stretched further until I could taste the slightly savory essence of my own precum and the lingering taste of Rikki’s essence. The second lick was easier, but still a strain. Maybe there were too many potatoes between my mouth and my crotch.

  “Yes, that’s it. Now suck it. Suck it deep.” I glanced over to see her rubbing her clit with her fingers. Every few rounds, she would slip her finger deep in her pussy.

  One good thrust and I found the head of my dick sitting firmly in my mouth. Closing my lips around my own dick felt strange, like someone else was sucking me off, but I was getting all the workouts for it. Remembering the taste and the smell was one thing. Feeling a prick vein in your mouth is another. I found the strange sensation most disturbing—if for no other reason, I was getting turned on by sucking a guy’s dick. Even if was mine, I didn’t really like it the direction this could go. I had to admit, on some level, I liked this. Whatever tequila was left in my body wasn’t blocking out all these thoughts and it disturbed me greatly. I should have kept drinking.

  She began to moan, loudly and with a vibrato. Soon, She would be out of control and I could make my move. I stopped giving my dick the attention it was becoming used to so that I could watch the action. Ann really knew how to put on a show when she was willing.

  “Suck that dick!”

  I began to crawl in her direction while still giving my shaft a few good strokes. Ann hadn’t noticed. Even a few moans from working my rug-burned knees across the floor didn’t take her eyes off of her cunt. She only looked up when I reached my tongue to gently lick her fingers over her clit.

  “Get back there. I want you to suck that cock for me.”

  There wasn’t an area around her clit that I didn’t lick. With my hand still lightly stroking my own tool, the thoughts of getting control of her wouldn’t stop coming. She liked it. She liked it enough to move her hands to my head and force me deeper into her pussy. I was finally licking that soft spot just past her lips that drove her wild. I knew I had her. Her other hand, forgetting its job of holding the gun on me, accepted my grip as I extended our arms away from our bodies, my hand folded over hers.

  Sitting erect on my knees, I moved her gun hand away from my face and slid my dick against her vulva, parting the lips just slightly. The noticeable arching in her back confirmed what I had thought all along. The true nature of her quest was to fill her pussy with my dick once more. I obliged. With slow, disciplined movements, I slid my tool all the way in until I felt my balls touch her ass.

  “Now, rub that pussy,” I said.

  She stroked that cunt like it was full of itching powder. Her fingers were a blur, but those moans were real and guttural. When her eyes began to roll back in her head, I knew I could relax and enjoy our time. After all, I controlled the gun.

  The slight touch of her furious fingers against the pad of skin above my dick was driving me crazy. Never before had I felt such a feeling. The faster she went, the closer I came to losing control. Under the mammoth task, I looked down at Ann, so engrossed at what she was doing, she couldn’t possibly know what I was doing.

  She was fixated on that last orgasm. Whether it was mine or hers, I don’t know, but the whole process confirmed what I thought, she only wanted my nine-inch dick one last time. In all the scheming and betrayal, my dick was a treasure she had to have.

  With her last, priceless vocalization, I shoved my dick as deep in her pussy as I could. I felt her legs stiffen around me. Her toes curled into a ball and she screamed louder than ever before. The massive orgasm rolled over her with such complete captivation, she lost all control, her body spasming violently until she collapsed onto the couch, spent and exhausted.

  I withdrew my dick from her pussy and laid her arms, across her chest. Relieving my knees from their torture, I stood over Ann, pointing the gun at her face.

  “Suck it.”

  Her eyes must still have been foggy as she squinted to see the reality of the situation. She was now the sex s
lave.

  “Suck it, now.”

  I can’t remember what she muttered as she leaned forward to lick her juices from my dick, but her face said she disliked the taste of herself. I thought it strange, since she was known for going down on girls on a whim. With a locket of her hair in my hand, I shoved her head down on my dick, feeling it pass her mouth and to a point she began to gag. I couldn’t believe the intense sensation running from my dick to my brain, and every single nerve ending between. The muffled swearing and fighting just increased my pleasure. I made a mental note to remember this in the future.

  I desperately wanted to feel my dick bottoming out in her mouth. With a clump of hair still wrapped in my finger, I shoved her head down. My hips thrust my dick down her throat as she violently fought to stop my progress, but I would not have her tell me anything anymore. With one final push, I felt my balls land on her chin and my dick slide down her throat. The feeling of her lips planted squarely in my pubic hair felt wonderful. The thrusting and gyrating she was doing intensified the feelings running through my body. In all too short a time, I had to stop. I couldn’t afford to explain how she choked to death on my dick.

  But all too quickly, the world for Ann changed. She was my slave. I held everything she wanted, and I planned to make her beg for it. Her fingers found their way to her crotch, again, and she was rubbing every part of pussy she could reach. The sight of her sucking my dick and the view of her rubbing her clit below it turned an already exciting moment into a passion I will never be able to recreate.

  “Turn over, doll.”

  “Oh, doggie style. How appropriate.”

  The first sight of her glistening backside was monumental. The sweat and juices had run over her perfectly round asshole, enticing me to find some way to fill that hole. The sensation of heaven I felt when I finally rubbed the tip of my dick around her brown flower almost grabbed my attention away from the very dangerous woman in front of me.

  “Well,” she said. “Go ahead. Stick it in.”