For Closure Ch. 01

Having learned his Wife's physical reactions over the past 20 years together, he knew she often had several smaller orgasms that inevitably built up to one ultra debilitating, monster one. Given the passionate ordeal Chase had already put her through, Lyle was sure Leslie had already climbed several of those proverbial steps already. Considering the ferocity Chase was now plowing Leslie, along with the possessive way he reached down and cupped her breasts while he drilled her from behind, Lyle stewed in his seat, knowing it wouldn't be long before he was forced to sit there and witness his Wife cumming so violently, it may cause the paint to peel from the ornate walls surrounding them.

While the frontal lobe of Lyle's brain has resigned itself to suffering through what the next few minutes might hold, the primal wiring embedded deep inside the mush buzzing in his skull couldn't take a second more. Bolting up from the chair and hurling the empty glass against the wall above the headboard of the bed, shards of glass exploded in every direction as Lyle jetted past the intertwined couple on the bed. Pausing only long enough to spit down at his Wife, Lyle exited the room before doing anything he'd further regret.

So engulfed in the bliss she felt as she writhed on her hands and knees, Lyle had shattered the glass, spat and already slammed the door behind him before Leslie could look up and realize something was amiss.

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The place Leslie Carmen had taken herself emotionally, to allow herself to do what she was doing with a complete stranger right in front of her Husband of almost 20 years, took quite a bit of work to descend in to. It was akin to some sort of sexual/spiritual hypnosis, and for it to work, it had to be all-consuming. That's why it took several wretched moments for the fractured reality Leslie had suddenly opened her eyes to, to make any sense.

Chase's cock was still buried exquisitely deep in her womb, and his hands continued to feel gloriously warm and strong as he clutched her breasts from behind. The psychological energy Leslie had conjured to make the evening worthwhile had been taxing, but given the eagles swooping in her stomach and the cymbals now crashing inside her head, she sensed she was only a minute or two from reaping her ultimate reward.

Unfortunately, that's when her Husband's smashed glass came raining down on top of her, killing that hard earned and crucial sense of detachment, not to mention inexorably tainting the mood.

Leslie hadn't made a point of keeping sustained eye contact with her Husband throughout. Sailing simply on trust, she remembered vividly how he'd joyfully soaked in the evening months earlier when they'd invited another woman into their marital union. The assumption that courtesy would be returned shattered in the hail of broken glass and scotch scented ice cubes that now dotted the duvet around her.

Resting on his knees with his cock jutting out like a lead pipe drenched in Leslie's shiny vaginal dew, Chase tapped at the still rigid girth as he watched the married woman slink downwards and roll off to the side.

This hadn't been his first awkward experience with a married couple since posting that ad online. While he was admittedly quite full of himself, even Chase knew in this particular scenario that he was basically just a prop for the couple's enjoyment, whatever that might entail. When the events suddenly hit a snag, or in the case of the Carmens, completely barrels off the track, Chase was sage enough to hold his tongue, take a few deep breaths and simply drift into the background.

He didn't say anything as Leslie stumbled out of bed and tried finding enough clothes to throw on so she could go looking for her distraught Husband. He didn't say anything as she totally ignored his naked and still visibly aroused presence on the bed as she searched high and low for shoes to put on. Chase didn't even say a word as Leslie tore out of the room, leaving him there all alone.

Stepping off the bed and smirking a wry smile at what the crazy scene that had just unfolded, Chase quickly threw his clothes back on, reminding himself once again to never to get married. Shoving his rigid cock back into his pants, he knew there would be plenty of action in the bars across the street to take care of that pressing issue before heading home for the evening.

He did, however, take the time to check one little thing before exiting the Carmen's hotel suite.

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If there was one thing abundantly clear, four and a half years later, when the now 26 year old Chase Boscoe found himself standing on the Carmen's front porch, it was this time he wasn't going to drift quietly into the background.

The recognition in Leslie's eyes was immediate, and striking.

Chase had vacillated several times whether or not to go through with his plan, but one look at Leslie as she stood paralyzed in her doorway made the trip out to Henderson worthwhile.

"Hello there, Mrs. Carmen," he nodded and smiled. "My name is Chase Boscoe..I'm a representative for Nevada Fidelity Bank. I work in the foreclosure department. I think you probably know why I'm here..may I come in?"

Other than a quiver of her lower lip and a small vein that was suddenly protruding out of nowhere in her forehead, Leslie was a pillar of salt as the man from her past stood no more than an arm's length away.

The woman standing before him hadn't changed all that much since that hour plus he'd spent with her a half decade earlier. Her blonde hair was a little longer and styled differently, perhaps lined with a touch more gray if you looked real close, a result most certainly from the obvious stress her family had been under. Selfishly, Chase found himself admiring the same full swells of the married woman's breasts, the outline of which were easily detected even in her loose sweatshirt.

"Still has those beautiful cheekbones too," he noted, "not to mention that same 'no bullshit' gaze in her eyes."

It was clear she was a woman of substance, which made Chase that much more aroused given the circumstances of his unannounced visit.

"May I come in?" he politely asked a second time, his demeanor as calm as the blanket of desert heat behind him.

"My husband's home," the words left Leslie's lips in a dry, dusty hiss. "My kids too..they're out in the backyard by the pool. Should I go get.."

"You're welcome to if you'd like..." Chase's aqua blue eyes a raging tempest now as he stared Leslie down. "Or we can talk for a few minutes alone."

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Chase earned his finance degree from the University of Nevada a little over a year after his interlude with the Carmens. Having grown up hardscrabble, Chase had been the first person in his immediate family to make it through college. Blessed with God-given looks, pretty much everything else Chase accomplished, he had to hustle for.

Between the partying with his friends and some distractions of his own making, it took Chase nearly six years to finish school, but once he did, he'd filled his resume out quite nicely since joining the workforce.

One of those 'distractions' happened to be the little hobby he'd discovered while in college of fooling around with married women who's Husbands had set things up online. Often times, that's how Chase sustained his coke habit, either directly asking for drugs, or at least getting a small financial show of appreciation from said Husband. Sometimes, it was purely for the fun of fucking a woman's brains out right in front of her old man.

There had been several such instances before his night with Lyle and Leslie Carmen, and there were quite a number afterwards as well. Like most things in life however, Chase mourned the one that got away. The sound of that glass shattering above his head was engrained in his Chase's mind, not to mention how deliciously close he was to sharing a seismic release with the guy's Wife just before things went so totally awry.

Basically still a thug at heart, just one now with a good education and a few solid business connections, Chase had stumbled into a job with Nevada Fidelity that happened to be the same bank the Carmens had their home loan. Thinking back to that night in the Carmen's hotel suite, how he was left all alone after Leslie took off after her Husband, Chase remembered slipping his hands into the gentleman's coat pocket that was slung over the same chair the older man had sat watching the horrible events unfold on the bed.

Taking the remaining baggie of blow and tucking it into his own pants pocket, Chase also looked through the man's wallet, not to steal any money mind you, that would simply be wrong, but just to take note of the guy's name and address.

Years later when he was hired by the bank to help light a fire under some of their delinquent but still salvageable accounts, Chase's eyes unexpectedly lit up when he recognized the name and address on one of his work related print outs.

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Leslie watched helplessly as Chase stepped through the front door without a formal, voiced invitation. While technically the bank Chase worked for held the deed to the property, the purpose etched across his face implied a far different type of entitlement as he walked past her.

Staring at the intruder with a mixture of disgust and speechless awe as he surveyed his surroundings, Leslie visibly jumped when Chase spoke.

"This is a beautiful room," he offered with near political precision. "I go into a lot of homes through this job...Did you decorate all this yourself?"

He was neither surprised or insulted when Leslie failed to dignify his query with a response.

Slyly stalking through the room, simultaneously listening for the presence of anyone else in the house as well as gauging the stunned woman's increasingly complicated reaction, Chase was empowered by the clear recognition in Mrs. Carmen's eyes.

"Don't you think we ought to call your husband inside..this is pretty important business," Chase grinned, tapping at the legal packet in his hands for effect.

"I....don't think he...he really needs to see you again," Leslie robotically replied, the bitter taste from that night nearly five years earlier suddenly heavy on her palate once again.

It had taken Leslie Carmen over 10 minutes that night in Reno to track down her wayward husband. She finally found him down in the hotel lobby, chain smoking as a tweaked vibe of disgust and embarrassment oozed from his pores. She'd tried giving Lyle a hug, but he pushed her away, unable to be that close to her with the other man's scent still so vivid around her.

Without any words capable of addressing the clusterfuck of emotions surrounding them, Leslie just sat there with her Husband until they saw Chase depart through the far side doors of the lobby.

"It's just like a nightmare," Leslie tried to reason with herself. "When you wake up in the morning..it'll be like none of this ever happened. You'll never have to see him again."

But there he was, years later, standing in her very own living room, seemingly larger than life as he stared on with the measured intent only someone who'd shared carnal knowledge with her could.

If Leslie had been on better terms with the concept of full, emotional disclosure, she may have been able to admit in that dreadfully awkward moment that Chase hadn't exactly left her life the night he walked out of that hotel in Reno. In the deepest and most secret recesses of her mind, the fleeting interlude with the handsome, handpicked stranger had taken on a life of it's own inside Leslie's tortured psyche.

The next time she'd had sex with her husband after that painful night, the thought of Chase grinding on top of her instead of Lyle had been omnipresent in Leslie's head, not to mention many times since. While the memory of that lone, and sadly interrupted, hour with Chase ebbed and flowed over the years, it remained like a mental mirage, hidden only for her selfish consumption when needed.

If she'd simply been allowed to finish what she'd started that night, perhaps Chase Boscoe would have simply been a glorious and secret footnote in the Carmen's marriage. To surrender to someone of Chase's skill and prowess, then be taken right up to the point of utter and complete satisfaction only to be denied at the last very moment was something Leslie had never gotten over.

To have him standing directly in front of her all these years later, his keen eyes seemingly reading every hidden facet of her mind left Leslie feeling numb and vulnerable, just as she had been with him on that hotel bed all those years ago.

She was powerless to stop him when Chase turned and made his way towards the kitchen.

Totally out of sorts, Leslie's feet felt like two bowling balls as she tried weaving between several chairs and end tables to beat the visitor into the kitchen. Breathing a brief sigh of relief when she saw the side door that led to the back yard was closed, Leslie passed Chase and scurried up to the sink to peer out the window, praying her husband and two daughters were still clustered obliviously around the pool.

Leslie's heart was thudding so wildly, she didn't hear Chase's approaching footsteps until he was directly behind her. Feeling his presence envelope her as she bit the inside of her lip and clutched tight to the edge of the sink, Leslie twisted her head to the side when Chase's warm breath cascaded down over the back of her neck.

"Why did you come here?" she begged.

Seeing Chase toss the packet of legal papers down on the counter to her right, she trembled and let out a small gasp when he put his right hand down on the sink, directly beside her's.

"To talk to you and your husband and your loan payments," he replied with cool and sullen indifference.

"Looks like one of your daughters is pregnant," Chase added in hushed accusation, his lips so close to Leslie's hair now, the vibration of his words slithered like a foul wind straight down to her roots.

Trapped now between the edge of the sink and Chase's towering frame, all Leslie could do was join him in looking forward out the window as goose bumps raised like sandpaper on the beautiful tan skin of her neck.

"Your husband looks even more fucked up than he did before," Chase noted without a hint of compassion. "Still drinking his scotch I can see..is he still inhaling his paychecks too?

"This economy being the way it is..and the bloated loan you have on this place...Now you have a pregnant daughter living at home...No wonder you're having a hard time paying your bills," Chase blistering assessment of Leslie's misery continued.

Responding would have been futile, every single shred of it was hard to argue. Still, something much more distracting had trickled into Leslie's consciousness. Each time she inhaled, she couldn't help but breathe in the scent of Chase's cologne, the exact same brand he'd worn all those years earlier.

Gradually, her foothold on reality crumbled away. This was her house, her very own uniquely inspired kitchen and this man was essentially holding hostage inside it. Leslie could see her cell phone five feet to her right and she knew she could dart towards it and dial 9-1-1 before he could stop her. If worse came to worse, she could even reach up and pound her hands on the window, certainly alerting Lyle, Candace and Courtney of her peril.

But, oh the Pandora's Box that would open, and Leslie was certain that was exactly what Chase was banking on. And in that moment of divine enlightenment, it became clear Chase's visit wasn't about the house, or the family's unpaid bills. This was much more personal.

Standing silently behind Leslie, as if listening to the gears grind inside her head, Chase finally spoke up again.

"That must be your youngest Daughter," he crooned, seemingly tweaking every nerve in Leslie's agitated soul. "She looks just like you."

" STOP BADMOUTHING MY HUSBAND...STOP LEERING AT MY DAUGHTERS....STOP TORTURING ME!!" she wanted to scream, but couldn't.

Her lungs had vapor-locked.

While her predicament, along with Chase's sordid words were heart wrenching enough on their own merits, the warm and throbbing bulge she now felt against the skin tight material of the rear of her shorts was what caused Leslie's sudden pause.

"Jesus Christ..it's his cock," she knew with dreadful clarity, remembering the girth's contours and imprint even after all those years as he crudely pressed it against the cheeks of her ass.

Tracing his left hand down Leslie's side, starting first just under her arm then slowly easing it down to her waist, Chase leaned in and pushed her sweet smelling blonde hair to the side before kissing Leslie on the nape of the neck.

"You remember that don't you?" Chase taunted, seductively grinding his hips forward several times just to make sure the older woman got the message.

"...Please..... don't," Leslie mumbled weakly, the residue of his kiss rekindling all sorts of things in her brain.

"Any of them could walk back to the house any second..I told them I was making some lemonade..see..it's right there," she continued to stammer. "They're gonna wonder why I haven't brought it out."

"Then why don't you just take it out to them..It's such a hot day..I'm sure your girls could use it," Chase said with a kindness and charity that left Leslie dazed, and more than a little confused.

Nearly having to catch herself on the edge of the sink when Chase stepped away, Leslie turned and looked him directly in the eyes for the first time since he'd stepped into her house in an attempt to gauge the young man's ultimate intent.

"Take the lemonade out to your family," Chase nodded in the direction of the tray and benevolently offered. "I'll be waiting here when you get back."

"You're just gonna wait in here while I go outside..." Leslie parsed every word as if none of them made any sense to her own ears.

"You're more than welcome to bring your husband back in with you if you want...We can spend the rest of the afternoon going over the papers I brought with me," Chase chided with callous calm, taking one of the glasses of homemade lemonade and taking a long sip just to show he planned on staying awhile.

"If I was him, I'd probably rather stay out by the pool on such a beautiful Saturday instead of ruminating over foreclosure options," he casually added.

Turning to his right, Chase grabbed the tray and handed it to Leslie.

"Go on...take it outside. I'll make myself at home right here," he assured.

Watching Leslie take hold of the tray was an adventure. Hearing the ice cubes rattle in the pitcher, as well as the three empty glasses, when the woman's shaky hands took hold, Chase smiled, wondering if she was going to be able to make it to the door without dropping them.

Reaching over to finish off the glass of lemonade he'd started moments earlier, Chase took one long refreshing swig as Mrs. Carmen took several painfully slow and tedious steps towards the kitchen door that led to the pool in the backyard.

Sliding up to the sink when she disappeared outside, Chase gazed out the window much the same way a scientist would waiting for the results of a groundbreaking lab experiment. Squeezing the erect log of his manhood through his business trousers as he watched the tall and voluptuous woman solemnly make her way across her sundrenched pool deck with tray in hand, Chase leaned forward and waited to see if she'd come back alone...

Part 2 coming soon...