|Salvation of the Third Kind Pt.
IV & V
by Whiff ©
They hurried along, her new light blue dress outlining her leggy body, his raincoat over his arm. She breathed "I don't like this, Danny. I mean, what good does it do? He was just a typical yuppie, or X generation, whatever, taking advantage of a fucked up broad. Drugs are all over the place. It was a typical Saturday night party, nothing special, just went bad. He didn't know shit. Probably gave me an overdose. I can't even remember if he fucked me. Probably did, but I couldn't have been much fun."
But he didn't care. He had watched her for three days now, fighting the tension, the pain in her eyes constantly, except when they made love. That seemed to get her relaxed, at least for a while. The anger was on him, and he knew he had to soothe it. They turned the corner, and she stopped. "There. That awning. Yeah. Fifty Seven. I remember, 'cause I thought, varieties, y'know. Heinz. Suite seven. I think the third floor. Oh shit, there he is, just coming out. Eddie fucking Sebastian. Liked to pretend he was connected."
The guy wore a pair of linen pants, a golf shirt, a lime green jacket, and was signaling for a cab. The doorman was whistling too. It was ten thirty on Sunday, and there weren't any coming. Dan handed his overcoat to Susan, loped across the street, up to the lime green jacket, and yelled "Eddie. Eddie Sebastian. Hey, buddy."
Eddie looked at him blankly, but instinctively smiled. "Uh, hi there. Look...." Dan jerked Sebastian down the street, smiling, his hand firmly on the inside of the forearm, inside the elbow.
"Got a car down here, Eddie. Get ya where you wanna go, okay? Look, remember that party a month or so ago? There was a girl there, Shelly, Sally, Sue, somethng, wondered if you had her number. Real turn on, I thought. You left with her, but I figured, by now, you know, you might be willing to let me have a shot at the little bitch. Whaddya think. Remember?" As they turned the corner, Eddie was starting to smile.
"That whore? Shit, she was deader'n hell. Couldn't get a rise out of the bitch. Don't have a number, pal. She kinda dropped out of circulation, know what I mean? Your car over here?" When he didn't answer, the look on Eddie's face got nervous. They got to the alley, and he shoved Eddie in, waving to Susan with his free arm. He was starting to breathe hard. Eddie started to stutter "Hey look, what is this? Don't fuck with me, man. I got connections, know what I mean?" Susan came around the corner, her eyes wide. Eddie blanched.
He gave Eddie a short jab in the stomach, feeling soft, out of shape flab give. The breath whooshed out, as eyes widened. It was the best way. No bruising, no blood. Yet. Dan wanted blood. But he wanted to make the guy piss his pants too. "Remember my sister Susan, asshole? The one you dropped off downtown? High on whatever shit you gave her? I don't give a fuck for your connections, asshole. The only question is whether you leave this alley alive."
Eddie's face was pale now, leaning against the brick, holding his stomach, trying to catch a breath. He waited, assuming Eddie would do something stupid. After a couple of minutes, he did. The idiot sucked in air, breathed "Fuck you, motherfucker." and swung at his face. Dan ducked, came up smiling, letting Eddie see it coming, then broke the thick nose with a left jab. Now he had blood. Eddie sank to the ground, bright red flowing down his face onto the lime green jacket.
He crouched in front of the gasping, sobbing man. "I could kill you, asshole. Right here," touching the adams apple "or right here" touching the soft flesh on the side of the head near the ear. "But my sister says you're just a poor, stupid, limp dicked, pretense of a man. Not worth the risk. But next time you do this shit, and I find out, which I could, I won't let her talk me out of it. Nighty night, motherfucker." He landed a hard right on the jaw, feeling bone crunch, and Eddie was out like a light. It felt terrific.
Susan was watching with her hand over her mouth. "Jesus, Danny." He strode out with his hand on her elbow, and she stumbled, ran a couple of steps to keep up with his long strides, and started to laugh. "Oh Danny, he looked so scared. That was so nasty, baby. So fucking nasty." She threw her arms around him, spinning in front of him, still heaving with her pleasure. They kissed right there, open mouthed, wild with the thrill of revenge.
They got back to the hotel ten minutes later, Susan ripping off her clothes in a frenzy as they got to the room. He had calmed down enough to want to leave, but she was naked before he even got a chance to say so. He stood staring at her as a hand worked under her groin, pulling on her now trimmed pussy. "It's time for some pain for your fucked up sister, baby. I want you up my ass. Hard. Hurt me, Danny. Get me off with that cock of yours inside my shithole. I'm gonna cum so hard they'll never let us back in this place."
Her frantic plea got to him, and he tore off his shirt, then fumbled with his pants. By the time he had freed his cock, she was on the bed, head down, hands pulling her soft butt cheeks apart. He buried his head there, licking at the small, wrinkled hole, hearing her moans. "Do it, baby. Go ahead, hard Danny, hard."
She was whimpering into the spread of the made up bed, twisting her hips from side to side. He slapped one buttock, muttered "Hold still" and pushed his stiff cock at her hole. Something happened, and it buried inside her a couple of inches, feeling tight as hell, but warm. He inched upwards, humped forward, and felt his cock plunge deeper. She wailed into the bed. He began to fuck his sister's tight bowel with abandon, amazed at how deep he got, the tightness of it, but the pleasure he was getting, as she groaned, the sound muffled by the bedsheets.
After several strokes, he shook sweat off his forehead, and reached under to her cunt, burying a finger inside her. He heard her begging "Go, go, go. Fuck me, baby." He felt fluid dripping down his hand as she creamed. His hips started moving faster, as he found himself bending slowly down to her back, wanting to feel her skin, letting his weight fall on her so his other hand could cup her swinging tits.
He could feel her intestine start to open up, relaxing. She was still groaning softly, but her hips met each thrust, each hard stroke. God, he thought, she's so fucked up. And so am I. His hips froze as he felt his nut come, a wild, intense blowout, grinding in his stomach, thrilling him. She was growling, her eyes closed. Her pussy was spasming around his finger. He could smell her musky, hard cream, soaking his hand. He pulled roughly out, and flopped down with his hips near her head. When he shoved her shoulder, he saw her eyes, and it was that look he remembered from the first day, trying to get him to open the bar. An evil, excited leer. She almost jumped onto his cock, her mouth taking it all in, no more than an inch outside her face, and he felt suction, and throat muscles, and tongue. He groaned with pleasure.
She sucked for a couple of minutes, noisily, occasionally gasping for breath. Her hair falling down hid her face. When she finally had him cleaned to her satisfaction, she lifted her head, and he saw the dampness on her face, and her mascara streaked. He pulled her against him, murmuring "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to hurt you. You got me so damn excited. You okay?"
She smiled in a wan, slightly crazy way, as she stared at him. "Danny. Oh Danny, you didn't hurt me. This is so fucked, but that was so neat, I mean the blood, the nastiness, the pain, I had a terrific cum. Just terrific. They all are for us, huh? I don't remember ever being so happy, darling. Every time we get off, I remember something, your face when we used to cuddle, your little prick when we used to skinny dip in the lake, the way you look when you sleep. Do you know you snore? Not loud, just a little snuffle. Did you like it in my ass? I sure did. It used to be a punishment, like retribution for my sins. But it felt like love, with you. I'm sorry I wasn't a virgin there, for you."
On the ride up to Boston, her freshly showered smell soothing him, her hand on his thigh, as they both read, he wondered about what was going on between them. She kept saying she was his whore, and he felt a thrill each time she said it. He didn't think he had ever enjoyed sex so much, even that first one, the skinny sophmore excited by the new freshman stud. He'd known her five minutes when she whispered, at the frat party, "I'm on the pill, Dan. Just so you know."
Susan had gotten better at it as the evil drug left her system, more athletic, wilder, smiling more. They liked to talk about their childhoods, times they were close, their secret desire for the other, before and after sex. They had masturbated with each other, sucked each other to completion, and fucked several different ways. Yet she was still, in his mind, Susan. Sister Sue. He found himself wondering, often, if this was love.
On an impulse, he asked her "Is this love, Susan? I mean, like, everlasting, get married, have children love? The girl I want to spend the rest of my life with love? I feel that way sometimes, about you. Then sometimes I can't help thinking we're fucked up." He had asked her intimate, important feeling questions when they were young. This felt natural, the same thing, as though she weren't his lover.
She looked at him, reached up and petted his chin, then slapped him very gently. "I haven't a fucking clue, Dan. It is what it is, and it feels so good to me, I'm afraid of losing it. But who can tell what it'll turn in to? Where you and I will go? My bad dreams are you going off to work in your grey flannel suit. I worry because I think that's your good dream. But I'm not gonna look for trouble, not for a while. The bloom'll wear off, honey. Even if it were all normal, y'know, it would. Wear off. I guess we'll find out more then." She smiled brightly, though a tear was drifting down her cheek. "But I think for sure we'll always have something of this fucked up weekend. I know I will."
He sat gazing at her, the soft, post coital smile on her face as she snored lightly in the motel room where she had slept for three months, and where they had begun to feel married. He showed her Boston, the B School campus, Cambridge, the "Red Zone", a neighborhood devoted to porn. She temped as a secretary, but mostly waited for him, thinking up strange, bizarre sexual games they could play, the theme mostly his raw anger that weekend in New York, and their crazy experiences there.
She tried AA for a while, but not long. Still, she kept saying as long as she had him, their long nights in bed, his love and attention, she wasn't tempted, not even a little. She rarely had more than a glass of white wine to drink, and hadn't even finished that pack of Marlboro's he had bought in the city. But her sexual appetite was voracious.
They had talked about trying to move somewhere where they could pretend to be married, where their parents couldn't find them, where they could hide in a cocoon of their love. But he had accepted the job in Chicago, truly amazing money, the second chair in a programming division, something about a multiplexing operating system.
The day he had told her about it, she had first bubbled about living there, the windy city, a fresh start. But when she examined the literature he received as indoctrination, her enthusiasm began to fade. There wasn't a decent place to live within an hour's drive of the smoky, beat up area that housed the glass palace where he would be spending so much time. The company she was temping for asked her about taking over an office in Waltham. They spent one weekend looking at apartments. He called the local Venture Capital company that had made him an offer in January, but both openings had been filled.
"We can visit, baby. I need you, but we have to live our lives, don't you think? I won't be happy depending on you all my life. But I'll always be your whore, Danny. No matter what."
Jed was a nice guy, he had to admit. Standing there with Susan hanging on his arm, in the lovely white wedding dress, her familiar perfume tingling his cock, as the Wedding March boomed out of the organ, he reflected on the last three years. In some ways, being apart had been nicer than being together. Every time they spent a weekend, two or three times a month, it was like a whole new beginning.
He thought she had bloomed, the success she had with the temp agency giving her back the confidence that had seemed to disappear in New York. She had lived in three different places already, and they had made a special place for her in the Los Angeles office when she had finally said yes to Jebediah Fulton, young, rising film editor. "He has this curvy dick, Danny. I mean, it gets hard okay, and he eats me all I want, but, I dunno, there's something funny about the way it fits my pussy. Not like you, honey. And he wants to fuck my ass, but I won't let him. That's your hole, baby. Nobody's been in there since you."
He had been jealous when she first told him. But the thrill of fucking an engaged woman for ten straight hours, as she promised him again and again they would always have each other, made the weirdness of it seem just another step in this strange relationship that showed no sign of decreasing its intensity. He'd dated a little too, one brunette with even bigger tits than Susan, but in spite of Bev's enthusiasm, it was a pale imitation of his wild trysts with his sister.
He felt a quick grin pass his face as he remembered the nights in Mother's big house in Phoenix, when Bradley died, sneaking down to the pool to skinny dip in the warm, soft nights, then sleeping together until they heard the squeeky voice at one door or another calling "Dear, it's ten o'clock already, I know it's different time dear, but still, the cook will have a fit if she has to wait for breakfast much longer." Repeating the litany at the other door. Giggling as they heard her retreating footsteps, the smell of their lovemaking surrounding them.
They started the slow walk down the aisle. The big Arizona adobe church was lovely, open and bright. A perfect place to start a new life. As they got about half way there, she leaned over and whispered in his ear "Your jiz is running down my leg, darling. You were awfully juicy last night." He stumbled as she giggled. Mother was watching them with that sappy look on her face, her new "beau", as she called him, sitting beside her. He had always thought she had to be awfully naive not to know what was going on in her house during the frantic year of probating the will, setting up the Trusts, even as Jeb burned up the phone lines to Susan.
He remembered her stubborn anger at Jeb the day he called to ask her to keep the money in LA.. "Danny's going to supervise the investments, darling, and Chicago's the place. So just don't fuss, Jeb. Besides, it'll give me a chance to keep in touch with my brother. No, I'm fine, dear." At that moment, she was humping her cunt up to his fingers, both of them grinning.
The minister asked "Who gives this woman to be married?" He thought he sounded very proper as he boomed out "Her mother and I." Susan giggled again, and he caught Jeb frowning. Better be careful, Susan, he thought.
But she wasn't. She called him from Fiji, two days later. "It's beautiful, Danny. And Jeb loves the gambling. He's amazingly good at it, keeps winning money at craps. Is it true the odds are closest in craps? What a word, craps." She giggled as he heard her tinkling a drink. "He's off skin diving, honey. I'm sitting here with that red bikini on, remember the one I used to pull up into my pussy? We met a nice couple last night, they live in LA too. Look, I thought that night before the wedding would hold me, Danny, but I'm horny already. The agency has a conference in Houston the eighteenth to the twentieth. Could you fly down for the weekend? Jeb's going to be in the middle of some damn movie."
Of course, he went.
The hot tub in his penthouse threw up steam into the chilly fall New York night as they cuddled together, ten years of marriage for her, seven for him. Brother and sister, still unable to find any love that rivalled the one that burned between them. Beverly had screamed at him the night before, "We've had this planned for weeks, Dan. For Christ's sake, are you fucking your sister or what? I mean, the minute she calls, you go running to her. Those goddamn Trusts are no excuse. It's not as though she lacks for anything."
They were nestling to each other, just their heads out of the warm, soft water, her hand around his soft cock, his around her shoulder, cupping her tit. She'd gotten a good silicone job three years ago, not too obvious, but her tits stood up rather nicely, he thought. She was talking about her latest confrontation with Jeb.
"He wants children, Danny. I told him I didn't. He said he'd met someone who did. I said, go for it, asshole." She sighed, and her grip tightened. He started to harden. She twisted around, and pressed her bald pussy to his hip. "Danny, we aren't being fair to them, are we? Beverly called me screaming last night. She sounds miserable. Not to mention pissed off. Let's say fuck it, baby. Let's go to Mexico, or Europe, you know, somewhere where we can be together, every day, every moment, darling. My love. My lifelong, fucked up, nasty love. I want your children, Danny. Not his. The clock's ticking baby, and If I'm gonna do it, it should be soon."
He felt himself harden further in Susan's grip, thinking shit, after that great nut just an hour ago. She was right, he knew. It was no one's fault. His psychiatrist said it was a residue of their loveless youth. But the shrink was not convincing when he talked about working through it, freeing himself from this compulsion, this obsession. He knew he didn't want to lose it.
"I've been looking at a little Web business in Paris, Susan. I can pick it up cheap, and it won't take up much time, but give me something to do. We can winter in Cannes."
They laughed, remembering a time long ago. In unison, they both said "Pardon my french?" He rolled toward her, as she swung a leg over his hip. As they kissed, her tongue filling his mouth, amazed at her power over him, the future seemed to glow in his heart. At last.
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