Reloaded, Murder at the M & M Lounge

As he was struggling to squeeze the trigger, Detective Bradley thought about his sleeping children. They would be awakened by the sound of the gun shot. They would be the ones whom found his body. He thought about the horrific sight of Kathy's shattered skull and her brains splattered all over the wall behind the booth. What if the bullet overpentrated on him too rather than leave a nice, neat carcass like Sergeant Grahn's? He continued to squeeze the trigger. Bradley had been raising the children since they were born, but he could no longer be certain that they were his. It would be the perfect punishment for his cheating wife's children. At lest he wasn't murdering them. He had investigated such cases.

The trigger was only one more millimeter of travel and an extra ounce of pressure from discharging when Detective Bradley noticed his reflection in the window. The gun in his mouth looked like a penis. It looked as if he was sucking on his gun to make it ejaculate. Even worse, the proprietary tennifer coating on the Glock made it look like a black cock. The image of himself sucking on a big, black penis until it ejaculated was so revolting that it was painful as Bradley ripped the pistol from his mouth.

Unnerved by by the homoerotic imagery of his attempted suicide, Bradley decided to actually clean his gun. He racked the slide back and released it to clear the chamber. He then pulled the slide back just a few millimeters so that he could depress the disassembly lever then pushed the slide and barrel assembly forward off the frame. A few strokes with the barrel brush was sufficient to clean the bore. A squirt from a can of lubricant followed by a wipe down with a cloth was all that was needed to clean the internal trigger mechanism.

As Bradley handled the dark, almost black steel of his Glock's slide, he found himself thinking that the resemblance to a Negro penis was very superficial. He should have eaten the gun and swallowed the bullet.

The sight of the slide also reminded Bradley of where his wife was and provoked graphic speculations of what she might at that very moment be doing. The image of some uppity Negro between his wife's thighs, pounding his big, black cock into Linda's blonde haired pussy as his big, balls in their black scrotum banged against her pale butt enraged him. However; he was ashamed to feel his penis swelling with arousal as he imagined that big, black penis thrusting one final time as her black stud ejaculated, flooding Linda's unprotected and possibly fertile womb with what must be the second or third wave of his potent, Negro sperm.

Bradley was ashamed and enraged by the realization that the image of his wife being inseminated by a Negro actually aroused him. He resolved that since he didn't have the courage to eat his own gun, his cheating wife would have to suck on his Glock until it ejaculated. Even more satisfying to his rage was the prospect of giving her a copper jacketed, hollow point, lead insemination.

Detective Bradley's hands trembled with rage as he began to reassemble his pistol. Unfortunately; he fumbled as he was fitting the spring and guide rod assembling into the slide. It went flying, ricocheting off the table then bouncing off the floor before rolling under the refrigerator. The prospect of having to move the refrigerator calmed him, compelling him to abandon the idea of shooting his cheating wife. He had other guns available to him, but he no longer had the desire to kill. He left the frame, barrel and slide on the table.

Detective Bradley decided he would wait for Mrs Bradley in their marital bed. He thought about his once promising career which had stalled because he had been assigned to investigate violent crimes rather than narcotics cases which were far more dramatic. He considered the possibility of divorce.

Detective Bradley contemplated how his growing gut, balding head and waning virility would make it difficult for him to find a wife. Linda had been trying to nag him into going to his doctor to get some Viagra for years. He would have to sacrifice his pride to compete in the singles scene. Bradley knew far too many colleagues who were on their second or third marriages. They always ended up with some woman who came with children from her first or second marriage and was unable or unwilling to give her new husband children to replace the family that he had abandoned. The hassles of dealing with the former husbands was a constant reminder that their own children were being raised by their former wives' new husbands who were just as resentful about it as they were.

Bradley had investigated the homicides that so often occurred in such blended families. He knew the statistics. The youngest, smallest and most vulnerable were at greatest risk. Only teenaged gang bangers were at greater risk than infants and toddlers in single parent or blended families. He thought about his youngest who had finally graduated from diapers and would be starting pre-school next year. Their mothers were almost always either the murderer or complicit in the murders by their boyfriends or new husbands. Young children who were murdered seldom died from a gun shot wound that was relatively quick and humane. They were almost always beaten, strangled, bludgeoned, burned and drowned to death.

Bradley thought about the many cases of sexual abuse that he had investigated. Mothers were seldom the perpetrators, but they were all too often the enablers. They would literally pimp their teenaged and even preteen daughters to their boyfriends or new husbands to secure the relationship.

It was nearly dawn when Detective Bradley was awakened by his wife's arrival home. Linda was a few years younger and a few pounds lighter than the women who had been brutally murdered at the M & M Lounge. However; she often hung out with them because her husband was friends with Sergeant Grahn. While the black man who his colleagues had been interviewing at the M & M Lounge would describe Linda as a white cougar, most white men would also classify her as a MILF.

Detective Bradley pretended to still be asleep as he watched his wife's reaction to his presence by the light of the television. She was obviously dismayed to see that her husband was home waiting for her rather than working an investigation. He watched through slitted eyes as she undressed. He noticed that she too had been dressed for the hunt this evening. Linda had worn a black garter belt and stockings rather than her usual pantyhose with a matching, black shelf bra that gave her big, very real breasts needed support while displaying her nipples and large, dark aureolas. He noticed that she was not wearing a panty. He wondered if she had been going commando when she left the house to go to the lounge or had she allowed her most recent paramour to keep her panty as a trophy?

Linda paused at her nightstand to put her cell phone in it's charging cradle. She seemed to be only mildly dismayed and somewhat bemused as she briefly contemplated the calendar app. Detective Bradley felt a painful tension in his gut and groin as he contemplated the implications of his recollection that his wife had last menstruated almost two weeks earlier. They had often played Vatican Roulette combined with Pull and Pray during the early years of their marriage so he understood that the timing couldn't be worse. She might be ovulating any day!

Linda reached down to run her fingers through her blonde pubic hair which Detective Bradley belatedly noticed was soaked with semen. Her fingers played with her pubic hair until they were coated with semen, then delved deep between her swollen, red labia to massage her still swollen clitoris. Given the circumstances, he should have been angry with her for being so reckless. However; it was strangely fascinating and arousing to watch his wife masturbate using her Negro stud's semen as a lubricant. He rationalized that it really didn't matter. It was obvious that she had already been repeatedly and copiously inseminated. He also knew that her shameless flirtation with pregnancy had saved her life.

Detective Bradley watched as his wife retreated to the bathroom. She reached into the shower to turn on the water. It was unusual for Linda to shower before bed. She preferred to shower in the morning, even if she had been out clubbing. He sometimes joined her in bed after a graveyard shift to discover that she was still wearing the stockings that she had worn for wives night out. He felt a sudden wave of nausea as he realized that in recent months, it had became normal for them to make love in the mornings after she had been out clubbing.

Linda was startled by how loud the shower was. The sound of the water seemed to change her mind. She turned the shower off. She no doubt was daunted by the prospect of waking her presumably sleeping husband whom she justifiably feared might become irate if he realized why she had been out so late and what she had been doing. She moved to the sink where she used a damp washcloth to quietly rinse at least some of the semen from her pubic hair as best she could.

Linda didn't bother to remove her lingerie before slipping into bed with her apparently sleeping husband. She was exhausted from her sexual exertions and needed sleep.

As usual, Linda was in turmoil as her feelings of chronic guilt warred with her sense of sexual liberation. Charlotte had begun regaling her friends with lurid details of her sexual exploits well over a year ago before her philandering provoked the separation. Her boasting had ceased during the first few months after she reconciled with her husband. The boasting had resumed a few months ago as their group resumed frequenting the M & M Lounge.

Linda had been the first who had yielded to the curiosity inspired by that boasting. She had discovered that interracial sex was addictive. Most of the black men she had been with hadn't quite measured up to the reputation, but they had been at least somewhat bigger than her husband. More importantly, they had been blessed with a sexual confidence, more like an arrogance, that freed them from any inhibitions. Their utter lack of restraint as they used her, really abused her, for their own pleasure never failed to bring her to climax.

She had joined Charlotte in encouraging Victoria and Kathleen until they also yielded to the temptation to be seduced by a black man. They had joined her and Charlotte in boasting about how well endowed and virile their black paramours were. Once they had allowed themselves to be seduced by their first black man, all of the women had eagerly ridden the entire stable of ebony studs who had been frequenting the M & M Lounge to court their little group.

Detective Bradley remained still as his wife crawled into bed with him. He yielded to the gentle nudge that encouraged him to roll over to give her more room and allow her to curl up to his back. He savored the sensation her nylon clad legs brushing against his and those big, beautiful, all natural breasts pressing against his back. His jealousy and anger was overshadowed by his gratitude. His wife was an adulteress, but she was still alive!

Linda started to reach over her husband for the remote to turn the television off but her hand migrated to his genitals. She was no longer impressed. Compared to her paramours, his penis was unspectacular, perhaps even puny. His testicles now seemed to be tiny, almost pathetic. However; he was a good husband, devoted father and dedicated provider for his family. Her husband couldn't measure up to her Negro paramours, but she still desired him. She was obligated by her marriage vows to desire him.

Detective Bradley was amazed to feel his penis swelling in response to his philandering wife's fondling. In spite of the confirmation of her suspected infidelities, he still desired her. The knowledge that his wife had become an adulteress actually inflamed his lust. The sensation of her kissing his shoulder and arm encouraged him to roll over onto his back. The lips migrated to his chest and belly. After lingering for a while, those lips found his penis.

There had been a time not so long ago when Linda didn't enjoy performing oral sex on her husband. Fellacio had been a wifely obligation that she had reluctantly fulfilled as seldom as possible. She had overcome this inhibition in recent months. Tonight she craved the sensation of her husband's penis in her mouth. Her explorations of her sexuality with her various paramours had given her a new sense of perspective. She had never appreciated the ease with which she could accommodate the entire length of her husband's pale penis in her mouth.

As Linda sucked on her husband's penis, she recalled how her valiant efforts to satisfy her first Negro paramour orally had been motivated by a vestige of fidelity. She had reasoned that she would not truly be guilty of adultery unless she allowed that enormous, ebony penis to invade her married vagina. However; the prospect of those enormous testicles emptying their sperm into her mouth had been daunting. Even more shocking had been the realization that thinking about all of those Negro sperm had inflamed her desire to feel that penis inside her. The arrogant manner with which her first paramour had held her hair to restrain her as he ejaculated in her mouth had revealed his true intentions. However; she had eagerly interpreted his laughter as assurance that he would restrain himself if she allowed him to ride her bareback rather than use a condom.

As Linda continued to perform fellacio on her husband, she became acutely aware of the sensation of semen continuing to seep from her vagina. This was far from the first time that she had returned home with her vagina literally overflowing with semen. However; this was the first time that her husband had been already waiting for her in their marital bed. Perhaps he would not notice how late she was coming home and overlook the seemingly obvious evidence as he always did?

Linda's recent infidelities had enabled her to overcome her inhibitions about performing oral sex on her husband. She had brought him to orgasm with her mouth numerous times during the months since she had first allowed herself to be seduced by a black man. She had also discovered that she never had difficulty reviving her husband's penis after she had been cheating on him. She continued to suck on his penis as he ejaculated. She even gave him a special thrill by swallowing.

Linda vacillated about what she should do next. Her most recent encounter with a Negro paramour had ended less than an hour earlier with him ejaculating one final time in her married vagina. She hadn't been able to shower to rinse away most of the incriminating semen. There hadn't been time for the seeping of the remnants of semen from her vagina to abate. Linda reluctantly yielded to her deliciously wanton desire.

Detective Bradley was finally provoked to the verge of rebellion when he felt Linda kissing her way up his belly and chest. The sensation of her incredibly wet and sticky sex rubbing its way up his thigh then following her lips up his belly and chest was not unfamiliar. This would be far from the first time she had subjected him to this unspeakable indignity. However; it was the first time that he could not delude himself into ignoring the now obvious evidence that should have confirmed his suspicions months ago.

Detective Bradley chose another tactic to avoid the confrontation that he knew would not end well. He abandoned the pretext of being asleep. He commented, "you're awfully amorous after being out so late."

"Sorry," Linda answered. "I didn't expect you to be home, so after the M & M Lounge closed, Charlotte, Vicky, Kathy and I decided to go out for a late night breakfast."

Linda's lie enraged Detective Bradley. It was all the more insulting because her semen leaking, adulterous sex was rubbing against his upper chest within smelling distance of his mouth. A potentially violent argument was averted when Linda's attention wandered to the television. She instantly recognized the M & M Lounge behind the reporter. The sound was off, but the images of all the police, the paramedics, the ambulances and the coroner's van told her the story of what had happened. The photos of Sergeant Grahn and then Charlotte, Victoria and Cathy confirmed that the tragedy that had exposed her lie was personal.

Detective Bradley heard his wife sobbing as she fell off of his chest. He had to grab her to keep her from falling off their bed. He held his cheating wife, hugging her and kissing her to comfort her as she wept for her friends. He was shocked by his empathy. He should be ashamed of his compassion. But as he held her, he knew that in spite of her philandering, he still loved her.

Eventually; Linda's sobbing subsided but her grief persisted. She finally looked at her husband to ask, "you know?"

"Until tonight I only suspected, but I was sent to the M & M Lounge to identify the victims," Detective Bradley answered. "One of the guys who had witnessed the shooting told me that there had been a fourth woman who had gone off to a motel with one of his friends. I didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that he was talking about you. He told me that it hadn't been your first time with him and his friends. You've been screwing around on me for months."

"What are you going to do? Are you going to divorce me or kill me?"

"Neither, I hope. Our marriage might be wounded, but it isn't dead yet. Not unless we allow it to die," Bradley assured his wife. "Just tell me why. Why would you cheat on me after witnessing the way that Charlotte's cheating provoked their estrangement and almost escalated to divorce? What made you think that a big, black cock would be worth destroying our family?"

"I never thought that it would be worth destroying our family. I didn't even want to hurt you much less our children," Linda explained. "However; it had become so difficult. We've both been working overtime to pay off the mortgage and save for college. While I am tired much of the time, I'm always feeling amorous. You were always busy investigating, trying to crack the big case that would earn you a promotion to lieutenant or even captain. Even when you were home, you were usually to tired or to afraid that you would have difficulties. Watching Charlotte succumb to temptation after her reconciliation with her husband made me think that I was missing out on something wonderful. I figured that having sex with a black man must be really special that Charlotte would risk it again."

"Didn't you ever feel guilty?"

"Of course I felt guilty. After that first fling I vowed to repent and had even decided that I would stop going out clubbing with Charlotte and the girls. Then you came home that morning. You crawled into bed with me just intending to sleep like you usually do, but then you got horny. I hadn't showered and even though Charlotte had told me that her husband had never noticed the evidence, I was afraid that you would. I tried to satisfy you with a blow job. You didn't argue. However; you were still feeling frisky after you came, probably because I let you cum in my mouth. I was afraid and ashamed to let you go down on me, but I was afraid that you would become suspicious if I refused you. You have always been so generous with your tongue, but that night you gave me the most intense orgasm that I ever had. The knowledge that you were sucking Negro sperm from my vagina made me feel deliciously wanton, but the idea that you loved me enough to do so even though you must have at least suspected was what truly aroused me."

Bradley was ashamed to admit that they had become so infrequent that he could vividly recall that night three months earlier. "Yes. I was suspicious. May be I was in denial."