Nancy's Inferno Ch. 03

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She revisits the bedroom.
3.9k words
4.24
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Part 3 of the 9 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 06/04/2010
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Walking through the front door of her house after returning from her harrowing visit to the church, Nancy Grubbs couldn't remember ever feeling as empty inside as she did at that moment. Not even feeling the drenching layer of freezing rain that soaked her as she walked from the car, Nancy absently laid her purse down on the floor before lugging herself to the sofa.

Her marriage had deteriorated steadily until it was finally dissolved. She'd lost her job because of the economic downturn, then she up and decided to move halfway across the country just to try a fresh start. Short of a death to a loved one, psychologists will say those three things are about the most stressful events adults can face, and Nancy shoved all three of them into less than a year.

Just as she thought she was getting her feet beneath her, Nancy came home one afternoon unannounced, only to be confronted by her Daughter's graphic display of wanton rambunctiousness. All that Springer-esque drama would have somehow still been manageable if it wasn't for the final blow she'd just endured. Seeing Pastor Grady having sex with the 20 year old Daughter of one of the church members had shaken, if not stripped Nancy straight down to the core as she huddled like a dazed lush on the living room couch.

"And they were acting so casual about it.... like they've been doing it for years," she couldn't help but cringe, bitterly chastising herself for so freely pouring her soul out to Pastor Grady over the past few months.

Never before had Nancy felt so isolated and emotionally spent. The only thing that seemed to have any life inside her was the stewing pit of anger in her belly, and the gnawing itch that continued to swarm like an army of ants just beneath the skin of her upper thighs and crotch.

In that moment of utter weakness, the most dementedly sick idea of Nancy's 40 plus years flashed inside her head.

"Devil go away...Please go away," she mumbled out loud in the empty house, but fighting the image only made it stronger.

Looking across the room to the steps leading upstairs, Nancy felt what amounted to the tip of an ice pick ever so gently pricking at her spine.

"Go on...go upstairs," that insidious and unwelcomed voice inside her head prodded.

Nancy could almost see Satan's face in the dark, convinced he was the one tweaking that ice pick at her back.

"But its the only way you're going to get any relief at all..It's not like you have anywhere else to run now," another voice, this one of defeat and prudence chimed in.

"If you did it..you'll have to live with the memory of something that sick and wrong for the rest of your life," Nancy answered those internal voices out loud, her words chilling as they echoed through the silent house.

"Let those without sin cast the first stone," came that voice of evil need's quick retort.

"We could just do it right here...on the sofa....Lacy probably wont be home for hours," Nancy tried convincing that presence burrowing ever deeper into her soul.

"It wouldn't be the same," it chided. "If you're gonna Baptize yourself Little Lady, you've got to dip your head all the way in!"

Looking nearly catatonic for several minutes as she sat there in the dark, the only thing that held Nancy's attention was the stairway in front of her, looming with lurid invitation. It was an invitation, in the end, she wouldn't have the strength to refuse.

Psychically transporting herself back several weeks as she scaled those steps in real time, Nancy could vividly hear Lacy and her Friend having sex in the upstairs bedroom even though she knew full well the house was empty.

"This must be what a mental breakdown feels like?", Nancy told herself, but she only felt worse realizing she was doing all this, completely sane.

"You're getting ready to walk through the Gates of Hell..you do know that...right?" her conscience cryptically warned when she reached the top step and saw the open door to Lacy's bedroom.

"What if she comes home early..how would you explain this?" Nancy asked herself, knowing full well Lacy hadn't been home before 9 o'clock in months.

Putting one foot in front of the other and taking those last few steps into the room proved difficult however. It struck Nancy as odd that she hadn't even ventured through the door of Lacy's bedroom since witnessing the 'incident' weeks earlier. This time, she reasoned, she was up there with a purpose. The same way someone afraid of heights might step out onto the roof of a skyscraper, or someone scared of snakes will allow someone to drape one over their shoulder, Nancy was determined to face this fear and beat it back the only way she (or that evil force inside her) felt she could.

Like a hallow-eyed zombie, Nancy finally disappeared into her Daughter's bedroom.

________________________________

The room still smelt of sex. Maybe it was just Nancy's overworked imagination, but each time she inhaled she swore she could still smell the young man and Lacy's youthful lust swirling in the air. Taking a couple of cautious steps though the strewn clothes and shoes cluttering her Daughter's bedroom floor, Nancy shook her head in the darkness as she tried to keep from tripping on the mess below.

"She never listened to me when I told her to clean her room when she was growing up...no chance of her listening to anything I say now," she muttered with the same exasperation any parent would.

Smelling the familiar traces of the perfume Lacy normally wore wafting through the air, Nancy stumbled and had to catch herself on the edge of the bed when she caught a whiff of male cologne as well.

"That boy....He's been here since that day," she inherently knew.

Grazing her right hand tentatively across the lower half of the bed, Nancy could feel Lacy's sheets and blanket bunched up in a knot.

"She never learned to make her bed," Nancy groused, knowing that was the least of her current parental concerns.

Her legs feeling like dead weight as the darkness of the upstairs bedroom enveloped her, Nancy though for a moment about walking to the window across the room as nudging open the curtains to take a peek outside. She quickly nixed that idea however, not wanting to cast a hint of light on what she was about to do. Content to be shrouded in her temporary state of blindness, Nancy eased down and took a seat at the foot of her Daughter's unmade bed.

"You're sitting in the same spot you saw them doing it," the ruthlessly cruel voice in Nancy's head reminded as the annoying, iron cast box springs rattled beneath her.

Considering they'd lived in the house for several months, Lacy bedroom was relatively Spartan in its decor.

"Guess she's had so much chaos over the past few years, she didn't want to put too much effort into making the room hers," Nancy thought before reminding herself that her Daughter was hardly ever home anymore to do any decorating, even if she'd wanted to.

Another wave of sadness rolled through Nancy, realizing that the joyous and innocent little girl she knew was gone forever, replaced by something not quite a kid, but from her decision making so far, far from an adult either.

"We all do things we're not proud of," Nancy nodded resolutely to herself in the dark, knowing she was on the cusp of doing exactly that.

Dragging herself backwards until she was pretty much dead center on the old, rickety twin bed, Nancy reclined until her head came to rest on one of Lacy's scrunched pillows. Staring straight up through the darkness, mesmerized by the drumbeat of her own heart, Nancy rested there for several minutes until an eerie sense of calm finally started to come over her.

Brushing her left hand that had been resting on her belly down towards her waist, Nancy circled her fingers until they found the snap of the black dress slacks she usually wore to work. Continuing to stare blankly up to the ceiling, Nancy eventually guided her right hand over to join her left, spinning all 10 of her fingers around the rounded button before finally undoing the snap.

"Uhhhh....no turning back now," Nancy licked her lips and gasped, shimmying her rear end to try and work the top of her pants down far enough to do what she'd came upstairs to do.

Keeping her eyes trained skyward, Nancy figured she could have some semblance of plausible deniability if she didn't have to see what she was doing. To that effect, her left hand felt strangely like a robotic spider creeping its way inside her unsnapped pants. Using her right hand to lower the zipper, Nancy blindly slipped her left across the silky smooth front panel of her panties.

"God..they're soaking wet," a voice whistled in her head. "You're still turned on by what you saw at the church..you don't want to admit it but you are...and you're turned on by what you're doing right now!"

Not wanting to face the biting internal accusations streaming from her conscience, Nancy twisted her head to one side, then the other, yet her hand kept working deeper inside her pants. Each time she took a deep breath to try and quell her nerves, it seemed another wave of arousal fueled warmth radiated from her crotch.

"You can smell it in the air Nancy..all around you," that same voice waited to add with perfectly cruel timing.

Before she could stop herself, the talons of her fingers had worked under the elastic band of her moistened panties.

".....YEESS...AAAHHHH," she gasped the instant her fingertips tickled across her swollen and soaked labia.

Twisting noticeably across her Daughter's bed sheets, Nancy gripped the pile of covers to her right as she zeroed in on the raging beacon of her clitoris.

"This shouldn't take long," she tried convincing herself, but her body, not to mention her long tortured mind, weren't about to let her off that easy.

It would have been easy to pinch her clit several times as she raked her fingers across her smoldering sex until she came. She'd done the same thing countless times over the years, more than she cared to admit, in fact. Orgasm usually came after two or three minutes worth of constant friction, then she was able to fall asleep or get on with her day.

Her gaze still glued up to the ceiling, it was almost as if an entity outside the framework of her soul had taken control of her hand as it rotated slowly around the fury V of her pulsing crotch. With the curtains drawn, it was so dark in the room it was hard to tell if Nancy's eyes were open or closed. Against that opaque backdrop, several fuzzy and jumbled images slowly began to coagulate into focus.

In that moment of heightened free association, the first thing to pop into Nancy's mind was what she'd just witnessed less than an hour earlier at the church. Walking down that same exact corridor in her mind, this time Nancy felt her feet were bare on the freezing tile as she shuffled along the floor. She could see the room up ahead, knowing full well the sin that waited inside. Literally feeling the heat spilling from the room drawing her closer, Nancy struggled, unable to decide which way to go.

"Burn to death in there or freeze to death right here...you make the call," a distant voice mocked in her head.

Lost in her delirium, Nancy knew full well what she'd see when she strained her neck to peek inside that room. Still, she couldn't bring herself to run the other way.

Time seemed to pretzel for Nancy as she reclined on her Daughter's bed, her hand working a little quicker with each passing spin as she fondled her raw and throbbing cunt.

"GOD..YESSSS," she gasped every few seconds, continuing to focus on the dreadfully sick and fascinating movie playing in her head.

As if they were made of helium, Nancy's knees began to rise from the mattress, following quickly by both feet until they were suspended nearly a foot in the air. The air churning like the groan of a locomotive from her throat, Nancy reached up and grabbed both her breasts through her sweater with her right hand as she clamped down hard on her pussy with her left.

A seismic gong jolted every bone in her body when she envisioned herself turning around that final corner and seeing Pastor Grady with that young girl in the room. Her mental replay of it all couldn't have been more hauntingly perfect as she felt the vibrations of Calvin's grunts, along with the girl's frantic cries ripple down her spine.

By then, Nancy's feet were flailing wildly in mid-air as she fixated on the acid stained image of the two fucking in her head, only this time it suddenly wasn't Simone beneath Pastor Grady, but her own naked self.

It wasn't so much as an orgasm Nancy had but a gut-wrenching exorcism of her loins. All that accumulated bitterness, angst, confusion, lust and want screamed from her pussy as she bucked and writhed for nearly a minute on Lacy's bed. Her guttural growls bouncing off the walls of the old house, goosebumps turned Nancy's skin to sandpaper as the mattress springs of the turn of the century bed strained below.

That's not to say she hadn't imagined herself with Pastor Grady. Nancy had several times. But in each of those instances, the images had been tender and innocent, highlighting the purity of their burgeoning relationship. What had just happened had been nothing more than a raw and carnal act of sexual frustration on Nancy's part, brought about by seeing Calvin in such a way with a girl half her age in the secluded lounge deep inside the church. If there was such a thing as a jealousy bone hidden deep inside the human anatomy, Nancy's had just been shattered and the fractured pieces had started to land in some very uncomfortable places.

Assuming the deed she'd just completed would go a long way towards returning her sanity, when she finally allowed her legs to drift back down to the bed, Nancy turned on her side to try and collect her breath. What she saw nearly caused the blood still racing through her veins to freeze.

The shadowy outline of her own face was staring straight at her from a perch at the top of the steps, just outside her 19 year old Daughter's bedroom, situated in the same exact spot Nancy was that miserable day weeks earlier when she spied on Lacy having sex in the very spot Nancy was now curled up on.

Too exhausted to fight the demons that had seemingly hijacked every cell of her brain, Nancy gradually realized her feelings for Calvin hadn't been the only thing to drive her up to the seclusion of her Daughter's bedroom.

"This is what Lacy would have seen that afternoon if she'd just looked over her shoulder," Nancy cringed, her own imaginary stare burning a hole as if she was looking into a macabe mirror.

Her pants and underwear tugged halfway down to her knees as she rested on her left side, Nancy could feel the greasy sheen of her leaked arousal coating the insides of her thighs. Melting under the intensity of those hallow and accusatory eyes floating in the darkness, Nancy made a mental note that she ought to change the sheets on the bed before she finally went downstairs. It was the last rational thought she'd have for the rest of the night.

Unable to withstand the murky weight of her reflection any longer, Nancy twisted away from it like a little girl having a bad dream until she found herself resting face down on her stomach. Feeling the cool, heavy air of the upstairs bedroom settling across her bare behind, Nancy slipped her right hand beneath her waist and folded it towards her crotch. Her own vaginal dew dripping into a pool on the center of Lacy's fitted sheet, she began a crude downward humping motion on her open palm once she'd positioned it just right.

"OH SHIT!!" the God-fearing woman cursed out loud the instant she closed her fingers around the nub of her still buzzing clit.

Twisting and tweaking it several more times as she grinded on her belly, Nancy anxiously dug her left hand into the back of her short blonde hair as the rusty bedsprings below rose back to life with their horrible siren's song.

Even with her face shoved deep into the pillow, Nancy could still feel the weight of her own imagined stare as she continued to briskly frig her cunt. Even though she would have never been able to verbalize what was swirling inside her into words, the sheer thought of that long engrained moral compass of hers being forced to stand there and watch what she was doing on her teenage Daughter's bed became the most librating thing Nancy could fathom.

The drenched fleece of her pubic muff clinging to her soaking wet hand, Nancy heaved up and down on those five stabbing fingers until she was heaving like a woman swimming for her life on the choppy open sea.

"UUHHH..UUHHHHH...," she squealed into the pillow, her drool dotting the fabric as lightning bolts began crackling up and down her spine.

"Lacy can do whatever she wants...so why can't you....That fucking Pastor Grady apparently can too..so why can't you?" that demonic voice in her head not so gently prodded. "Just let it all go Nancy..just let yourself go!"

Like a thief prying a purse from an old woman's stubborn hands, Nancy's want overpowered her decency. In one ear she swore she could hear the girl's frantic cries of joy from the church as Pastor Grady ruthlessly pounded her from behind. To make matters even more surreal, in the other ear she could hear Lacy's orgasmic release playing on a continuous loop from when she'd been forced to watch her Daughter get fucked right in front of her. The two voices seemed to crash into each other in the center of her skull until the combined power of that stereophonic union was bleeding from Nancy's own throat.

"WWWAAAHHHHHH...WWWAAAHHHHH," anyone walking through the front yard of the house would have heard coming through walls when Nancy jerked her face from the pillow.

When she raised her head slightly, her knees seemed to follow until she'd propped herself up into an awkward kneeling position on top of the twisted sheets.

"GOD...AHHHHHH.....GOD...YES.....OOOOOHHHHHH..GAAWWDDD," she coughed, alternating the speed and thrust of her vaginal manipulations until she was in a modified doggy-style position on the bed.

Her pussy splashed now with an agitated atomic glow, suddenly Nancy could picture the young stud that had fucked Lacy, now fucking her. The longer she knelt there imagining she was the object of his virile lust, the more real it became.

Desperate to feel herself filled, Nancy scooped as much of her hand as she could inside her straining cunt, making it feel as if a human cock was actually drilling deep inside her. Her ass now swaying in the air as she ground her crotch down on her embedded digits, Nancy wrapped her free hand around the iron railing on the top of the bed in a desperate attempt to hold on as she tumbled towards the edge of consciousness.

The legs of bed scraping at the hardwood floor each time she lurched down on her nearly balled up fist, she could feel her languid vaginal secretions oozing down her wrist and forearm as she screwed those four fingers even deeper into her womb.

Using her thumb to repeatedly scrape the tip of her inflamed clitoris, Nancy could feel her second orgasm in less than 10 minutes beginning to build. So lost in her delirious descent, she suddenly felt as if something had joined the imaginary penis already inside her.

On a certain level, Nancy understood the presence of the man fucking her from behind was just a mental prop to help get herself off. Picturing him as the same young man she'd caught Lacy with was just a crude mental ploy to try and alleviate some of the powerless she felt. If she could steal that freedom from her Daughter, even if it was just her imagination, maybe she could regain a foothold of sanity.

When she opened her eyes and looked down however, Nancy began to understand just how deeply rooted her psychosis went. Pastor Grady face, as clear as day, was smiling and evil grin directly below, and he was naked as the day he was born. Feeling as if her body was straddling Calvin's huge, barrel chest as he held her by her waist, Nancy swooned ad shook her head side to side at the vividness of her crude masturbatory fantasy.

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