Solace

Deceased: Victoria L. Darrow

Sex: Female

Age: 27 years

Time of Death: November 5, 2010, 10:30pm

Sarah glanced at the clock on the tiled wall. It was nearing midnight. She turned back to the body on the stainless steel table.

Victoria had been a beautiful girl. Her long, dark hair lay in wet curls around her head like a wild halo. Red lipstick smeared her plenteous lips. Mascara from her thick lashes streaked down her cheeks, it's black matching the filmy dress clinging to the curves of her body. From the look of it, it would have had been revealing even before it was soaked by rain and blood.

Sarah's eyes slid to the crimson stain that spread across the girl's left side. Victoria had been broadsided while driving home from work and had died at the scene. Sarah hoped, as she often did in cases like this, that she'd never seen her end coming -- that the poor girl was here one moment, then simply whisked away somewhere better the next.

"I'm sorry, Victoria." Sarah murmured into the silence as she began to carefully remove a ring from her finger. She placed the ring into a box that held other things once belonging to Victoria; a pair red five-inch heels, a matching red clutch, a sparkling ruby heart charm on a broken necklace chain. Victoria clearly had an affinity for red.

As Sarah began the delicate, regrettable task of cutting Victoria's dress free of her body, she imagined the kind of life Victoria might have lived. She noted the racy red panties that peeked out beneath the dress as she cut. They were the kind a woman wore for someone else to see, the kind a woman wore for someone else to take off.

A few small bruises high on Victoria's inner thigh did not appear to have resulted from the crash. Sarah leaned closer. They looked like small bite marks. Hickies? Perhaps left behind by the overzealous mouth of a lover?

Sarah felt a twinge of envy. She had known a few lovers in her life, but none with that kind of passion. Even in death, Victoria was marked by her lover.

Sarah was reminded it had been some time since she had been marked by anyone, if truly ever. Lately, she'd spent most evenings locked away in the sterile rooms of her family's funeral home, working late into the night, having one-sided conversations with corpses. She wasn't sure how she had let herself slip into such a lonely life. Sometimes she felt scarcely more alive than the company she kept -- merely breathing amongst the dead.

"It's easier this way," she thought. "Safer too. At least I know what to expect from one minute to the next. Not like poor Victoria, here."

Sarah finished with Victoria and wheeled her body into a large refrigerated room. She would wait to do anything further until she had spoken with the family tomorrow morning. She scooped up the box of Victoria's things on her way out of the morgue.

She rode the elevator from the basement and wound her way through a series of hallways and doors that led to the wing of the house where she and her family lived.

When she was a child, the other children teased her because her home was also a mortuary. In truth, she realized later, they were scared of her. She'd learned to adapt to the outcast way of life early on. Unlike her school-age peers, she had looked to her home as a place of refuge and retreat. The Bennett Manor Funeral Home was a stately, historic Victorian that sat on the edge of town. Her family of undertakers had resided there for the last century.

The manor was a work of art all its own, full of ornate woodwork, stained glass and antiquities. It was as macabre as it was magnificent.

Sarah basked in its stillness. The rest of her family was on vacation. She had volunteered to stay, knowing that a holiday with her parents wouldn't have proven to be much of a vacation at all. Besides, she liked the peace.

She stopped by the entrance to the office and stood at the door, fingering the key to unlock it. Procedure was to place the deceased's belongings inside for safe keeping until the family arrived to retrieve them.

"Maybe, just this once," she murmured to herself, returning the keys to her pocket instead and ascending the regally engraved mahogany staircase to her bedroom.

Sarah set the box on her bed and stepped back, unbuttoning her blouse. She shed the rest of her clothes on the way to the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of herself in a full-length mirror, she stopped and doubled back to look.

"Not bad," she mused. Her body was voluptuous, not unlike the late Victoria's. Full breasts emphasized by a trim waist and curvy hips. Sarah opted for a lab smock instead of black, clingy dresses these days.

"No wonder I don't get second looks. Why am I hiding?" she brooded.

Tracing her hands up her sides, Sarah thought of how Victoria's skin had been warm not so long ago. Now she would never be able to embrace her lover again. Pity for Victoria rose up in her throat. Or perhaps it was the regret borne of her own body going untouched for so long that stung her eyes.

Sarah let her hand drift down to the shadow of tight curls at the junction of her thighs. She left her fingers poised just above her tender spot, so neglected. She lingered there for only a moment before retreating to the shower.

After toweling off and slipping into a white cotton chemise, Sarah perched herself on the edge of her bed and pulled the box into her lap. She had developed a burning curiosity about Victoria's life. Such a tragic end to such a vibrant life, or so she imagined.

She withdrew the red purse and gingerly opened the clasp. Inside she found typical purse-things -- lipstick, a powder compact, a handful of colorful plastic credit cards. Amongst the cards, Sarah found a bright-eyed Victoria beaming up from the photo on her ID.

There was also a small bottle of perfume inscribed with an unfamiliar but exotic sounding name. It smelled divine. She couldn't resist spritzing some onto her wrist, then the base of her neck.

Amongst the rest of the clutter, Sarah saw a red light flash from Victoria's phone. The screen showed a new text message. Sarah paused, feeling guilty for snooping, but her fingers were quicker than her conscience, and a moment later she was reading the screen.

Get home quick, baby. Been thinking about your sexy ass all day. This last message was from someone named Loren. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she scrolled down to other messages. Most of them were from Loren. A text from that same morning read, Sorry I made you late. Couldn't resist how beautiful you looked...or how good you tasted.

Sarah read on, feeling like a voyeur peeking in on the host of little intimacies exchanged between lovers.

The mix of thrill and guilt Sarah experienced were to be expected. Something else was not. The more she read, the more arousal stirred within her, stretching itself out into her limbs like an animal awakening hungry from a prolonged hibernation.

She pushed the box away and, sitting on her knees with Victoria's phone clutched in her hand, she spread her legs slightly to allow her free hand to fit between them.

She began to stroke herself, slowly at first, teasingly, spreading her wetness between her fingers. She found pictures next, pictures Victoria had sent to Loren -- suggestive poses, some of them nude.

Even better, Loren had returned the favor, sending Victoria similar pictures of himself. He was handsome, thick, dark hair, sharp-jawed, large brown eyes. Her entire sex spasmed in reaction to one particularly lurid image of his naked erection.

Sarah laid the phone with the erotic picture on the bed in front of her. She leaned forward, straddling the bed and bracing herself on one arm to work her clit in increasingly frantic circles. She rolled her hips against her hand, imagining she was impaled upon the cock her eyes were hungrily fixed on. Loren's cock. Loren's magnificent cock.

Sarah inhaled sharply between longing moans, sounding like static against the sound of the rain. The muscles in her stomach and thighs began to tremble. She fucked herself with her fingers while trying to read on.

Loren - can't concentrate today... pussy is wet thinking of your cock in it last night.

There was a pounding at the door downstairs. Startled, Sarah dropped the phone and jumped from the bed, her heart near thudding from her chest.

It was not uncommon to have someone come to drop off a body at night, but normally she would have received a call first.

She padded to the window and peeked out amongst the folds of brocade drapery.

Someone stood on the open front stoop in the rain. She could see part of their outline. They were alone. No emergency vehicles, hearses. It wasn't a delivery.

More pounding sounded. Sarah strained to get a better view. It was a man. She pressed her nose against the glass trying to get a better look when he turned and faced her. Loren froze.

He hadn't seen her. He was scanning the first level. Her stomach did a somersault as she recognized his face. Loren.

She jerked away from the window. "What the hell?" she thought, pacing by the bed. Panic welled up when saw Victoria's things scattered across her bed. This was not good. Unprofessional. What had possessed her? Best to let Loren leave. See him in the morning.

She peered out the window again. He was sitting on the steps now, shoulders hunched over. Even in the rain, she could tell he was sobbing.

Her heart softened as she watched him grieve. Sarah pulled on a robe and made her way downstairs to the entrance.

She cinched the belt of her robe extra tight and paused to muster some composure before opening the door. He was still sitting with his back to her, but when he heard the door creak, he jumped to his feet.

"Forgive me, I know it's late," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "But they told me she was here." He was soaking wet and clearly distraught.

"Please, come inside." Sarah stepped aside and motioned him in. She knew very well what "she" he was referring to, but she calmly asked, "How can I help you? Who are you looking for?"

He looked around bewildered. "They told me she was here," he repeated. "My Tori." His voice caught at her name and fresh tears spilled down his face. "Tori Darrow?"

Sarah nodded and kept her voice calm, steady. "Yes, she was brought here earlier tonight. Her family will arrive tomorrow morning."

"Oh God," he choked. He looked so pale.

"Maybe you'd better sit for a moment. May I ask your name?" She led him to a wooden chair where he collapsed, holding his face in his hands. His body shook with silent sobs for a minute or two before he could answer her.

"I'm Loren. She's my girlfriend. Or was..." He pressed his lips together, swallowing more tears. "She was supposed to be home hours ago. I called her work and she'd already left. I got a call shortly after - they said she was in an accident. They didn't even take her to the hospital." He seemed to become confused again, then looked directly into Sarah's eyes, "Have you seen her?"

"Yes, Loren. I'm afraid I was the one to attend to her tonight. I would take you to her, but without prior consent from her family..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"I understand. Her family wouldn't likely give you permission anyway. They are still upset she moved in with me." He was shivering now, from a combination of the cold and the shock. Sarah turned toward the door. The rain was coming down so heavily now, it looked like someone was spraying a garden hose against all the windows. She couldn't send him back out.

"I just can't believe this has happened." His face fell into his hands again.

"Oh hell," Sarah decided, "I'm breaking all kinds of rules tonight. What was one more?"

"Loren?" she said gently, "If you promise not to tell anyone -- I could get in a lot of trouble -- oh, just come with me. I'll let you see her." She offered him her hand.

His face came up again, eyes red-rimmed, cheeks wet. It broke her heart to see it. Where was the beautiful Loren? The Loren from Victoria's cell phone pictures?

He rose unsteadily to his feet and placed his slick palm in hers, gripping loosely.

They made it three steps down the hallway.

"Wait. I can't," Loren choked and pulled Sarah to a stop.

"It might be best to wait if you can anyway," she offered quietly. "She'll look better at the funeral."

He sighed and nodded slowly, then leaned against the hallway wall. She watched him look around at the house's paintings and sculptures. She realized he didn't want to leave. "Would you like to stay a little while? Let the rain die down? Maybe have a cup of coffee?"

"Uh, yeah -- thank you...um?"

"Sarah."

She led him through the maze of a few dimly lit rooms and into the kitchen. She took his coat and excused herself to the laundry room just off the kitchen to throw it in the dryer.

He was removing his shoes when she returned, which were squishy from the rain. She passed him on her way to the percolator, than leaned her back against the counter to face him at the table as the coffee began to brew. "Tell me about Tori -- if you don't mind."

Folding his hands on the table, Loren sighed heavily. A hint of a smile cracked his somber face.

"She was a fireball," he began, his eyes lighting up, "When I first saw her. She was making love to another man."

Sarah drew her chin back in puzzlement, "Really?"

"I was painting an apartment in Schoular Grove , which is the 'U' shaped building on the East end with the courtyard in the middle."

Sarah nodded agreeably. She knew the place.

"Well, something had caught my eye on the balcony of the apartment directly across from where I was working. Most of the balcony was hidden by a trellis, but I could still see the flash of red satin. Tori was leaning on the railing in this red dress. Her lover at the time, a much younger man, had come up behind her, lifted her dress, and took her right there in the open."

Sarah's cheeks burned as he spoke. She couldn't imagine doing anything like that. "What did you do?"

"I watched them through the window," he admitted. "But then I realized she knew I was watching. I could tell she liked it." He shook his head and chuckled. "She even winked at me when they were through."

Sarah winced and giggled at the same time. Oh to be so utterly, beautifully shameless. "That can't be the end of the story," she prompted

"So the next day," he chuckled again, "I look up from painting some baseboards to see a pair of stilettos, red of course, waiting for me to notice them in the open doorway. Tori had come to the apartment I was working in to introduce herself. She had always been bold and fearless like that. I was crazy about Tori from that very first day. I had never imagined someone could be so beautiful. So confident." He lowered his eyes to his hands and drew in a long breath.

Sarah handed him a mug of coffee and settled in the chair next to him. "And then?"

"We were inseparable after that. We couldn't get enough of each other. I hated every moment we were apart. The rest of my life became a collection of things I had to do. Spending time with Tori was what I wanted. I needed her. It wasn't long before I asked her to move in with me. With her in my life, I felt exuberant. Like I was intoxicated."

She could see reality creep back into Loren's eyes, their brightness dimming and he gulped, his lips quivered. Sarah folded her hand over his and squeezed. He looked up at her.

"What about you? Where's your fella at this hour?"

Sarah returned her hand to her coffee mug and sipped. "There is no fella at the moment. My work schedule makes it hard for me to be available for any kind of a relationship."

"Well that's a shame. Maybe you should consider adjusting your schedule?"

"Maybe," she nodded, "listening to you now, I wonder if I may have been missing out. The relationships I have had lacked that kind of passion. Wrong people, wrong time perhaps." She drew in the last sip of her coffee.

"I've know my fair share of women, but Tori was the only one like that for me. You have to remain receptive to it. You never know when fate..." Loren trailed off, gripping his empty mug.

"How about I get us a refill?"

He nodded as she slipped her finger into the handle of his cup.

She stepped over the coffee pot, setting down both mugs to fill. She started when she bumped into Loren, who had swiftly come up behind her. He'd crept close to her and was inhaling deeply through his nose.

"Loren, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, I... you smell like her. Like Tori. I've been catching the scent of it all night. I thought it was in my head. It's not, is it?"

"Le Fleur de Lis. Did she wear it too?"

Another long sniff that made Sarah shiver. "Yes," he groaned, voice thick with desire and sadness. She felt his hand come to rest on her hip.

"Loren?" she said softly, covering his daring hand with hers. "Do you...do you want to pretend? Just a little?"

His answer was long in coming and when it did it was a strangled whisper, "Yes."

She set the coffee cup she was still holding down onto the counter and reached up for the light switch. She flicked it off. In the dark, she turned into his arms and pressed herself against him. "Good, let's pretend."

Committed though she was, she was unprepared for Loren's assault. Pure hunger, like nothing she'd experienced. It was as though he wanted to consume her entirely.

She cowered back as he placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her between his body and the countertop. He bent his face close to her neck -- close enough so that she could feel the heat of his breath wash over her skin. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. A pulse between her legs echoed the increasing tempo of her heart.

She'd never finished what she started earlier on her bed and the arousal returned with a rush. She braced herself against the counter. He pressed closer to her now, making no attempt to hide the erection stretching the front of his pants.

"Do you mind if I," he murmured as he lowered his nose to the base of her neck and nuzzled her there. As he inhaled her deeply, she felt his hands move slowly from the counter to her waist, and then lower to her hips, where he gripped her firmly. Feeling his excitement pushed openly against her stomach was making her increasingly wet.

Her courage began to unravel. This was insane wasn't it? Reality rushed back to her and objection rose in her throat.

She raised her hands to his chest to push him away, but at the same moment, he pressed his mouth to hers, pushing his tongue between her lips. He kissed her hungrily, snaking his hands into her hair, bending her body to his.

Thoughts of pushing him away evaporated. Instinct, hunger, need took over, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. Even if her better judgment was sounding off internal alarms, it just felt too damn good to stop him. It had been ages since she had been kissed, and it had never -- felt the way Loren was kissing her now. The sensations, the urges they brought were animalistic.

The thoughts in her head began to collide into each other until all Sarah could focus on were these primal instincts -- the throbbing moistness of her sex, and the swelling length of him pressing against her. She heard a women's voice moan, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was hers.

Loren's hands grabbed her ass and positioned her on top of the counter. His hands made quick work of undoing the belt of her robe and pushing it aside.

He dragged his mouth from hers down to her jaw, leaving a frenzy of kisses all the way to her chest. Her erect nipples poked sharply out against the thin cotton fabric. He covered one with his mouth, grazing her with his teeth, at the same time moving his hand in between her still naked thighs. Without any panties to slow him, his fingers directly touched the liquid lust that had begun slipping down her legs.