Echoes 04

Pineapple pizza... celery sticks with pimento spread...

Isabella plastered her huge tits to his chest and grabbed his hair with both hands, her pelvis a complete blur now as it thrust down onto him, taking him to the hilt again and again. "Ungh, ungh, ungh... ooooooo...." She pressed her forehead to his, and her eyes squeezed shut as her entire face scrunched in the most adorable way. "I love you... I love you... I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou..." Chase's fingers were making deep divots in the flesh of her waist while his own hips hammered up into her.

Romantic comedies...fucking, reality TV... nope. Oh god...

"Shit! Belly!" Chase groaned and slammed into her, raising himself up on his heels and suspending his screaming mother-in-law on his pelvis as he loosed the flood inside his lover. Luckily for his ego, his woman was climaxing at the exact same moment, her pussy milking him fit to beat the band, and her entire, exquisite body shuddered from head-to-toe.

When they collapsed next to each other, they were both laughing breathily, but Isabella managed to speak first. "How. The. Hell have I lived without that? Without you?" She rolled to her side and laid her palm on his chest, letting it raise and lower with his breathing, feeling his heartbeat beneath. "Chase Ventris, I hope you know you woke a goddamn beast." She smiled at him, and rows of hungry pearls filled his vision. "I'm never going to be able to get enough of you now, so you'd better make your peace with that."

Chase hooked his big arm around her waist and flipped the both of them. With a delighted, girlish little squeak, Isabella found herself pinned between his arms as he propped himself above her, the long, heavy muscles of both limbs begging to be fondled by her adoring hands. So she did just that, then shook her head incredulously when she felt a third long and heavy limb. A very insistent long and heavy limb. "Surely you can't be ready to go again so quickly?"

Chase smirked. "When the woman I love is in my arms, I can do anything." He bent down and planted the sweetest kiss he could produce on her, and she nearly started to cry. When he lifted his head, though, he took put a stop to that. "And don't call me Shirley."

Belly lived up to her name with the laugh that burst from her core. When the snort was done reverberating off the bedroom walls, she wiped her eyes. "Okay, one more round, then we're off to the living room. Now I absolutely have to watch that damn movie again, you bastard."

"Roger, Roger."

The slap on his arm stung, but it was worth it.

__________

A year. A full year of bliss. That was no exaggeration; Chase and Isabella felt pure, transcendent joy in one another that didn't diminish one iota as the weeks turned into months, and the months were strung in a fairytale chain of happiness that healed the scars in both the lovers' wounded hearts. Of course, it wasn't one of those fairytales that Disney would be feverishly animating; more of the kind where Prince Charming and the Fairy Godmother went hog wild and fucked each other's brains out in every corner of the map they could get to in a day. You know; that type.

Not a single twenty-four hour period went by in which Chase and Belly didn't express their growing love for each other, and it was a rare lag when they did it only once or twice. She had an unlived existence of tragic lovelessness to make up for, and he had an emptied soul to refill. They were joined, physically and mentally, and neither wanted it to end.

They were adventurous too. For every time that they would spend a day in, making love in their shared bed, on the couch, in the shower, by the pool, in the pool, on a lounge chair, next to the lounge chair once it tipped over, on the floor by the fireplace like they were in some cheesy soft-core porn... which, frankly, was a favorite of both of theirs... they would find a way to share their love with the world outside as well. Whether the world outside asked for it or not.

Chase was actually nervous when Belly took him back to that dance hall again, and not because he knew his nascent skills had probably withered on the vine. No, while they were getting ready, his woman had done a horrible job of hiding what she was aiming for. After the second time she idly mentioned that panties were for losers, he decided that he may as well just give his own drawers the night off. Easy access had been the name of the game that evening, and Chase discovered that it was, in fact, possible dance with your cock inside your partner and keep everyone from noticing. Well, as long as you were doing the tango... and everyone chose to believe that you were both bad at it... and your lover was an important member... and the staff were good at not seeing what they shouldn't see. Just like a walk in the park.

Then they went for a walk in the park. The discovery that day had been that rutting against the wrong tree tended to piss off some squirrels, and getting hit on the head by flying acorns wasn't really fun... but it was fucking hot. Demonstrating to the angry tree-rat who the king and queen of the jungle really were--roars included, if maybe unplanned--was a blast that had them laughing for a week.

Belly nearly got them both arrested that time that she'd been unable to contain herself when Chase had eaten her out. To be fair, he went at her like a starving man in pie-eating contest, and Isabella was actually taken by surprise with the old "dropped my fork" routine, but the staff at four-star restaurants were less understanding than those at dance halls, apparently. Their waiter actually had to whisper in three successively louder tones that they had to pay their bill and leave immediately. The unstated understanding, of course, was that this would be after she stopped convulsing on the tabletop.

There was the impromptu product testing at the hammock store that got them a ban for life; but, really, what did the owners expect when they named it, Put-Your-Butt-There? Chase and Belly were modern Americans, after all, and slaves to advertising.

The owner of a nearby strip club, Uranus Lounge, was much more accommodating during amateur night, though. Isabella may have chickened out and kept a pair of lacy boyshorts on during her dance, but first place was still her destiny, and Chase was whistling louder than anyone. Red-faced, but with a smile she couldn't get rid of, she'd forced herself to stay plopped in his lap the remainder of their evening, right out in the open crowd of appreciative patrons... until one of those inexplicable bachelorette parties showed up and drunkenly demanded that Chase give them a private show. Tit-for... tit. That lame witticism came back to haunt the nonplussed Mr. Ventris when Belly answered yes for him, and then it was her turn to chap her lips raw with whistles as she and her new friends got all they paid for and more in that darkened champagne room. The two of them closed the place down that night, and then fucked like filthy hobos in the ally out back for a good half hour.

That particular escapade, as utterly thrilling as it had been, made the pair of lovebirds finally step back and take a breather. One night, amazingly spent just snuggled on the couch as they talked, caused the lust-haze to clear enough for Belly to realize something.

"Jesus, do you know what's happening next week?" When she sat up, it caused Chase's palm to slip out from under her sweater and off her bare breast, making him a little sullen.

Okay, maybe they didn't quite have it in them to just not have their hands all over each other as much as humanly possible.

"...anniversary?" Chase meekly proffered the answer as long dormant survival instincts kicked in.

Belly beamed down at him. "Right! Saturday will be one year since you fucked my frigid twat into being your bitch!"

"Twelve months since you put my balls in your purse and made me your permanent boy toy. My how time flies."

She jumped to her feet, her face lit by whatever she was imagining. "We have to go away for the weekend." At seeing the look in her eye, she waggled a finger. "No, Horny McHornerson, I mean for a romantic weekend. I have a friend who'll let us stay at an absolutely gorgeous lakeside cabin in the woods. Just the two of us. No one else in the world." Her smile was almost painful in its earnestness.

He got to his feet and folded her into his arms. "I now want nothing more in life... Mrs. McHornerson."

She laughed into his shoulder and squeezed him for all she was worth, then gave a longsuffering sigh. "I guess, it doesn't have to be all romance..."

"You had me at naughty negligee."

Her snort left a wet spot on his shirt, but it was just part of the collection at this point.

__________

Do we ever see the big tragedies coming?

__________

"Are you a good boy, Chase Ventris?" Isabella's voice wafted out from the bedroom of the borrowed cabin, its tone rich with mirth and warmth.

"The goddamned best." Chase couldn't hide his childlike enthusiasm. The weekend with his love had been fantastic; romance at its height and a truly worthy cap on their first year of joined lives. When she'd told him that she'd come prepared to fulfill a certain request, his eyes had lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Christmas morning at the North Pole. Smack dab in the middle of Santa's workshop. At seeing that, Isabella couldn't get into the bedroom fast enough.

"All right then. Good boys get rewarded, after all." Isabella made her entrance into the cabin's living room like a glam-rock video vamp from the eighties, so much so that he half expected to see a fog of dry ice billow out behind her. While her hips swayed like a pendulum, she slowly came towards him, one long, toned leg crossing the other tantalizingly, while her hands went up into her ebon locks, running through her mane, pulling it up and letting it slither back down between her fingers. Her half-lidded eyes locked on his hungrily as her lips parted and her tongue made them shimmer in the soft light.

That alone was enough to make Chase diamond-hard, but the thing she'd chosen to wear was in danger of causing him to have to abort the mission to refuel. The negligee was black mesh, veiling everything and hiding nothing, and though it started at a tight collar hugging her swan-like neck, it ended just above her hips, where it slid back and forth hypnotically as she sauntered closer. A tiny pair of panties, barely more than a strip of black silk, provided a temporary barrier to her glistening snatch, and the back...

"Turn around." Chase's voice was gravelly, thick with lust.

She heard it and her eyes widened in delight before she complied. "Drink it all in, Chase. It belongs to you." She slowly rotated, bobbing her hip periodically to make her mouth-watering cheeks ripple.

Chase was paralyzed. I've never just... taken her in before. She's an absolute goddess. It was true, and he was kicking himself for not doing this sooner. They'd always just went at each other like the other would disappear if they weren't holding on with all their might. Intimacy was a ravenous need in both of them, but they'd never stopped to just appreciate each other, even when they'd done their freaky night of public stripping. My god, she really is a work of... of...

Chase's heart nearly stopped when her flank was fully turned to him, a complete view of her ass achieved for the first time ever. It took conscious effort to speak then. "Isabella... what's that mark?"

She giggled, misreading his tone. "I guess you really never got the chance to see it, huh? Makes sense, we've been busy with... close ups." She rubbed a thumb across the birthmark on her butt. "I always thought of it as my own personal trademark infringement." She smiled at him guilelessly. "It's cute, right?"

"Super cute." Like being hit by a semi, Chase was overwhelmed by the need for the weekend to be over. He had to figure out as soon as possible if he was wrong. He had to figure out if his life was going to end for a second time.

__________

"What is that?"

No three words were harder for Chase to utter in his entire existence. Standing in his living room, pointing at the image frozen on the TV screen, it took all he had in him to not vomit on the floor. Isabella, seated on the couch, fingers laced together in her lap, was seemingly physically unable to stop looking at her feet.

"Chase..."

That hoarse whisper told him everything. When they'd driven back from the cabin, he not speaking more than monosyllabically, she growing increasingly distraught, he'd been preoccupied with trying to convince himself that he was being supremely idiotic. He could tell that Belly... Isabella... wanted desperately to get him to explain why he'd suddenly cut their weekend in paradise short, but she didn't ask once. The fact that she'd fearfully kept her questions to herself was nearly enough on its own to confirm what he was suspecting.

Once home, he had gone straight to his PC, knowing what was still there. Nearly two years, but he hadn't gotten rid of it; blissfully, he had actually forgotten about it in the last few months. Now it was back, a cancer once in remission ready to spring to life and end him. Still, he had to know. He had to.

He had puked then, as soon as he'd seen the damning evidence, so he was able to keep it together, just barely, when he put the horror show on display for his love.

"Don't want to say?" Chase pinned her to the couch with his stare, though she still didn't see it. She didn't need to. The image of the two fuckers in his bedroom hung there, larger than life, in exactly the same way it had when Bizzy had done what Chase was doing now; using it to burn the world down.

"Because to me it looks like this... this monster has a motherfucking Mickey Mouse birthmark on her ass! In the same motherfucking spot on the same motherfucking cheek that you do! Exactly the same motherfucking size as... as..."

He couldn't keep going; in that instance, it was too much. Instead, his strength failed him and he went down to his knees, face buried in his hands with a sob. That was enough for Isabella to snap out of her morass of guilt and lurch towards him with a cry of anguish, her arms outstretched to wrap around him. That galvanized him though, and he lurched back from her, snarling.

"Get away from me." She froze in place, watching him with more than a little fear. He began pacing then, not letting himself show weakness twice. "You broke in here... no, wait..." The memory of the moment she'd come back into his life bloomed in his head. She didn't need to break in. "You used the key that your daughter gave you for emergencies... brought one of your boy toys... fucked him on our bed... and told Bizzy about it to break up our marriage. What am I missing?"

"Chase, I'm so, so, so sorry..."

"Not interested in the next chapter of, Guilty Apology. The prequel was fucked up enough as it is." Chase glared down at the mound of jelly on the floor that had been the woman he'd loved. "I want what I didn't get from Bizzy. The truth. Starting with, who the fuck is he?"

He saw the wheels turning in her head; what do I say? What will save me? In the end, she opted to actually give him one last gift; the thing he'd asked for. "That man that used to work for you, Shane... whatever." She plowed on, apparently trying to spew it all out and get past it. "Elizabeth gossiped to me once about your bedroom camera and how you used it to spice things up; she really was my best friend, and we shared everything. I knew, then..."

She swallowed. "I mean, the woman I was back then knew that... that it was the perfect opportunity. I just needed someone with some know how, and, those few times I toured the company, that Shane fucker always bragged about being just as good as anyone when it came to this shit. Know-how and zero morals; just what I was looking for."

She was grabbed by unsuppressed sob, but wiped her cheeks and powered through. "You can guess the rest. Have... I'm sure. We fucked, keeping our faces hidden, knowing the assumption would still be that it had to be you, he downloaded the vid, passed the note to Elizabeth, and--"

"Then fucked her for two months, nearly daily." Chase spat out the end of the sentence for her. "Sometimes in that same bed you made such great use of."

"That was him?" Somehow, Isabella looked even sicker. "Chase, I had no idea. I had no intention of... of humiliating you. I didn't think that Elizabeth would do what she did to get revenge. My only goal was to..." Suddenly, she laughed bitterly and covered her eyes with one hand. "To free her. God... I am a monster. I ripped away the best thing that ever happened to the person I was meant to sacrifice everything for, then took it for myself."

"You won't hear me argue." Chase deflated, unable to keep up the level of ferocity he'd been stoking. Not when all his other feelings involving the creature before him were still in the mix. He slumped on the couch, head in hands. "How could you have hated me that much? I was always good to you, from day one. I was polite. I was deferential. I made sure never to butt heads. I even bought you birthday presents and shit."

Isabella gave a hiccupping sniffle. "I have nothing, Chase. No defense. I said it once, I was a different person then. I was convinced that my daughter would be happier if she were... like me. I didn't know what real happiness was." She inched closer to him and put her hand on his knee. "Until you showed me."

She gently laid her head in his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist. He let her, but didn't touch her. "Whatever fate you decide for me, Chase, I can never thank you enough for that. If you throw me out of your life tonight, I'll go. I'll go knowing that it's the least of what I deserve, and I'll shed tears enough to drown myself... but I will always love you for giving me something I had no right to, even if only for the length of a dream."

Chase forced himself to his feet and pulled Isabella to hers. He gazed deeply into her, trying to find the courage to trust her. Agonizing over whether he could believe anything she said. He thought he might. He thought, maybe, he had the capacity to forgive, that the depths of his feelings for this woman were enough... but then the memory of he and Bizzy standing in front of an altar filled him. He could see it still; she looking nothing less than transcendently happy, and he knowing that they were going to have a life together that should exist only in storybooks.

Eyes burning, he stepped away from the one who'd knowingly, with a malice he couldn't begin to fathom, took all that away. From him, and especially from her own daughter.

"Belly... it was a dream. Now it's time for both of us to wake up."

__________

Existence is a funny thing. A moment can drag on until you feel like it was a life sentence, but years can pass in a blink. Three years can, at least, as long as those years are filled with nothing but day-after-day of the same, beige crap, with nothing to differentiate one from another. That's what Chase came to discover.

After he'd exiled Isabella, he instinctively knew that he was going to be in for a rough patch, but he had no idea at the time what that would really mean. He kept his business, barely, by becoming pretty much a figurehead and letting others run the day-to-day. It was a testament, he told himself, to the power of loyalty that everyone put up with it. With him. Apparently the memory of the man he had been was enough for him to coast. At least, so far.