The Funeral Ch. 03

(I included some of the last chapter because my pause interrupted the flow of their encounter)

*

"Close your eyes and lay back down." Shawna complies, and I strap up. I stand closer to the bed, lift her legs up onto my shoulders and run the head of my cock down her slit. Shawna's eyes pop open, and she ogles my strap-on.

"What is that?" she is more than curious and I see her hand begin to reach for it.

"This is my cock, slut." I grip the base and rub my cock up the length of her slit, rubbing the head on her clit. Shawna whimpers and lets her head loll back. I know that she is tight, so I push my tool into her slowly so that she can adjust to its girth. This dildo is new because I trash each dildo after I use it; I never fuck the same girl twice.

Shawna is clawing at my sheets and screaming for me to fuck her, but I ease off each time she lifts her hips to meet my thrusts.

I pull back so that only the head of my dick is penetrating her. Shawna bows her body and sucks in her breath. I slam home, press my body weight against her and hold that position. Her legs push hard into my neck, urging me to ease back. But I want to tease her.

"Please, Sam, please!" Shawna pants, breaking protocol. But I don't sweat it -- this time. She asked nicely, so I slam myself in to the hilt. The feel of our pubic bones connecting sends me into a manic pump into her lovely vee. I roll my hips as I pummel the pussy, grunting with my exertion. Shawna is now beyond words; she resumes her babbling and is pulling the fitted sheet from my bed. Her excitement is encouraging, not to mention making me more horny. As I slow down again, I glance at her beautiful, flushed face and feel a rush of emotion. My eyes prickle; I need a distraction.

I grab her calves and pull her legs far apart, sliding my hands down until I am pushing on her lower thighs. Using her legs for leverage, I straighten my back and stroke her juicy cunt. I stroke harder and feel the sweat sliding down my nose. It's not enough; I need to be closer to this woman, so I pound into Shawna's soft, pliant body over and over.

"Cummingcummingcumming..." Shawna chants in a rasp while I beat the pussy up. Crying out, I cum hard, losing my rhythm and thrusting wildly into her. I am blind with pleasure and feel disoriented. I release her legs and fall on top of Shawna, who is grabbing at me, trying to hold me. I don't pull away, as is my usual custom. Instead I lay awkwardly on top of her, supporting most of my weight by leaning on my elbow.

"Sam?" She almost whispers.

"Shawna?" I tease, as I lift up to smile down at her.

"I need to get up."

My smile falls, as I push off of the bed to stand up. I study her face as I back up to let her pass. Shawna is alternately looking at me, then the floor and then my bedroom door.

"Your bathroom?"

"Door's open."

Shawna swoops down to get her clothes as she passes them. I watch her pale ass wiggle out of my room and plop down on my bed, sitting and staring at the door she just passed through. I hear water running, and I want to go into the bathroom and drag her back by her short hairs. But I don't want to fuck up more than I must have, so I practice what I want to say to her while I wait. I hear the water stop and when my heart starts pounding, I realize that I need to see her face again.

I've had a rough past few weeks, true, but Shawna has a way of making me feel better even when I'm not upset. Hearing her footsteps, I sit up, trying not to look like I missed her too much. I am shocked when those same footfalls move past my bedroom. If I were under the illusion that Shawna had overshot the room accidentally, it only lasted a few seconds because I hear the pale amazon opening the front door.

She didn't even try to mask the sounds. I know that Shawna is no coward. She's a decorated member of the finest police force this state has to offer. But I could never have fathomed how she could just walk out on me like that. Like a punk, like some lowlife perp, stealing my heart and crushing it in her hand as I watch. To my immense distaste, I feel almost as empty as I had this morning. I lay back onto the bed, covering my eyes with my forearm, as I cry.

I must've fallen asleep, and I wake up to look for my phone. I need to know what time it is. I finally find the phone, and I am floored by what I see. It is four in the morning, and I don't have any missed calls. Shawna really left. I dial her number, but quickly hang up before it even rings. I don't know what her problem is, but I should let her work it out on her own.

I wander around house straightening up and putting things where they belong, finally picking up my clothes from their place of rest on my living room floor. Though I'm walking around making more noise than I usually do at this time of night, Jewel is clocked out for the night and doesn't come out to check on the racket. I hope she does wake up, I need company.

I do a more thorough cleaning in my bathroom, and then proceed to my bedroom. I grab the duffel bag from the floor and replace its contents. I want to toss the dildo, but I can't bring myself to do it. It still smells like Shawna, and despite my foul mood, my body aches for hers. So I put it in my top dresser drawer and shut it, not wanting to confront the implications of wanting a woman more than once.

I pull back the comforter to make the bed, and Shawna's ripped panties fall to the floor. I never really got a good look at them. They are white bikini briefs, with a blue floral pattern. They are exactly what I imagined she would wear. She's so girly, yet so low maintenance, she's the perfect girlfriend -- or she would be. I fold the panties, and place them in my top drawer, along with everything else I want to forget about her.

It's seven in the morning now, and I have nothing to do. Between administrative leave, and the fact that Jim and Cam were my only other friends, I am more lonely than I've ever been in life. My phone rings, so I rush into the living room to answer it, praying it's Shawna. It's Cam, sounding frantic.

"Lewis?"

"Camille, are you okay?", I ask calmly, though my heart is doing cartwheels. "Do you need me?"

"Can I come over?" Camille sounds more animated than yesterday. " I just... want to talk."

"Of course. I'm here."