For Every Action

For the next two weeks, Sean kept tabs on the three rapists while continuing to work on his plans. Then on Friday, he asked one of the architect partners if he could borrow his yacht on Saturday for a day on the lake, since the architect and his wife were going out of town to visit their daughter. The yacht, a modest 32-footer, was moored on the lake just northwest of the city, at the dock serving their not-so-modest get-away cabin. The architect very graciously handed Sean the key and gave him instructions on fueling the boat but cautioned him to obey the marine laws. Sean assured him that he would and would have the yacht back at the dock before sundown Saturday.

By the time Sean had put in his time and he had cleared his desk for the day, he had become nervous, his stomach roiling in anticipation. Still he appeared calm on the outside, telling all the people from the office that he hoped they had a good weekend. His inclination was to run to his car and drive home as fast as he could. Instead he forced himself to walk normally and drive slowly in the rush hour traffic. Time was not a critical factor - yet.

Not in the mood to cook, Sean fixed himself a cold sandwich and ate slowly, washing it down with a cold soft drink. There was no room for error at this point and he couldn't take a chance on being impaired, even by a can of beer or glass of wine. After he had eaten, he wandered to his bedroom where he changed clothes and shoes. Everything he put on was a dark color and he wore nothing metal that was visible, even changing his belt for one with a cloth-covered buckle.

By 8:30 with still more than an hour of daylight forecast, he carried a long bag out to the car, climbed in and drove toward the motel area, being careful to obey all traffic laws. Sean had no interest in drawing attention to himself by doing something foolish. He pulled into the parking lot of the upstream bar as dusk was beginning to make seeing things somewhat fuzzy. He parked as far from the building as he could without being the last car in the lot.

Checking to make sure no one was coming or going at the moment, he got out of the car and quickly extracted the long bag. When a car pulled into the driveway nearest the bar entrance, Sean dropped down below the roof line of the row of vehicles until the car had parked and its occupants had walked into the bar, talking to themselves and not even looking in his direction.

With no other traffic in sight, Sean hurried across the two-lane highway and into the undergrowth by the meandering river. Careful not to get too close to the bank or to step into the few scattered mud puddles along the way, he hiked the two miles back to his chosen spot across from the two motels. Sean pulled a pair of surgical rubber gloves on his hands. Pulling his muffled rifle from the bag, he extracted a magazine containing the already loaded ammunition from the bag and carefully seated it in the rifle.

Squatting on a couple of discarded planks to keep from trampling down the grasses, he settled down to wait. He felt sure the three men were inside the bar between the two motels. From his observations, they never missed a night to visit the watering hole. Sean watched several people enter the bar and a smattering of customers left, some walking to houses up the hill behind the bar or to the old motels, others driving away in old cars or pickup trucks.

It was just a few minutes before midnight when the heavy door opened and the three men came wandering out, laughing uproariously at something Sean could not hear. Red turned to Sean's right, waving at the other two as they headed in the opposite direction.

Sean lifted the rifle and settled into a comfortable position, one where he could support himself against the recoil. He had to wait several minutes since Red was not exactly steady as he walked. However when he stopped in front of the door to his unit and fumbled for his key, Sean eased the rifle down, sighting through the scope until the red dot was on his target and then he slowly squeezed the trigger.

The sound was more of a 'whoosh' than a bang and the recoil caused the tip of the rifle to jerk upward slightly. However, Sean saw Red drop instantly to the ground. Without hesitation, he turned in the other direction.

Apparently neither Baldy nor Blondie had heard anything as they were still walking toward their units. Baldy stopped at the door to his cabin first, said something to Blondie and they talked for another minute before Blondie walked on. Baldy turned to his door and stuck the key into the lock just as Sean pulled the trigger for the second time. He watched Baldy drop to the ground - just like he was shot. Sean pivoted enough to watch Blondie as he stepped up to the door of his cabin. With his hand on the doorknob, Sean squeezed the trigger a third time and watched the man sink to the concrete of the tiny porch.

Unhurriedly, Sean extracted the magazine from the rifle and slipped the rifle and magazine into the cloth bag. He pulled a little makeshift net bag from the rifle and checked to insure that it contained all three shell casings before putting it in the long bag and zipping it up. Looking around to make sure he left nothing behind, Sean walked back the two miles, crossed the road, stowed the bag in the trunk of his car, and drove home.

Once he arrived, he checked to make sure there were not watchers before he opened the trunk and removed the bag, holding it upright tightly against his form to disguise its shape, and carried it inside. Putting the bag on the kitchen table, he grabbed a cold soft drink and sat down, pulling up his tool box already sitting on the table, and quickly broke the rifle down to its smallest component parts. Putting a couple of large rocks in the cloth bag, he rolled it up and secured it with rubber bands. Then everything associated with his evening's work went into a small sports bag and was covered by his swim trunks and a couple of bath towels. Leaving it on the table, Sean retired to bed and some well-deserved sleep.

Sean slept like a log that night, waking late in the morning feeling better than he had in a long time. He showered, dressed in shorts and T-shirt, ate a leisurely breakfast, and walked to his car, carrying the little sports bag. Heading for the nearest interstate ramp, he set course for the lake and, 85 minutes later, pulled alongside the so-called cabin.

Carrying the sports bag, he walked down to the dock and boarded the gleaming white boat. Having been on a short cruise with the owner and other members of the office staff last summer, he had been given a short course in operation of the beautiful craft.

The big twin diesel engines cranked on the first attempt, quickly settling into a throaty roar. Loosing the mooring lines, Sean backed the boat into the short channel that led to the lake itself and was soon cruising out into open water.

The lake was a relatively deep one in the middle, shaped somewhat like a giant elongated oak leaf with tributaries off to the sides every few miles, some leading to small creeks and fading quickly while others opened into large bays, often with classy marinas. However Sean was mostly interested in the main channel.

He settled into the pilot's chair with the sports bag sitting on the seat beside him. He pushed the throttle up to a respectable speed but not enough to lift the bow or to cause a very noticeable wake. He kept his eyes out for other boaters, not spotting an overabundance of them this day, although there were a few fishermen and once he saw a skier.

He was about four miles out when he reached into the bag and extracted the rifle stock. Moving to the side of the boat, he checked that again that there was no one close to him and he eased the stock over the side, letting it slide down the fiberglass side of the boat into the depths of the lake. For nearly two hours, he progressed up the main channel, dropping pieces from the bag every few miles. When he finally was left with only the sports bag itself, he turned the yacht in a lazy turn to starboard. Taking time to zigzag into many of the inlets along the way so he could admire the various lakeside residences and moored boats, he arrived back at the dock just before seven o'clock.

Making sure he left the boat as clean as when he arrived, he took his empty sports bag to his car and drove into the nearest settlement, selecting a family restaurant for dinner. On the way in, there were newspaper vending machines. He purchased both of the local daily papers and carried them to the booth where the hostess seated him.

After ordering the evening's special and a glass of iced tea, Sean opened the first newspaper and began scanning. It wasn't until he got to the seventh page of the first section that he spotted what he wanted, a one-column article about three inches in length.

Three Men Injured in Unusual Shooting

Metropolitan police report-ed that three men were injured last night in an un-usual shooting. The three men had been patronizing the Starlight Bar on the city's southwest side and left to walk to their motels just a short distance away. Each of them was shot in their lower body just as they approached the door to their respective units. Apparently no one heard the sound of shots, accord-ing to a police spokes-person. At this time there is no known reason for the shootings so police are speculating that it may have been a case of gang retaliation involving mis-taken identities. Doctors at County Hosp-ital have confirmed that all three of the men should re-cover, although there is speculation that there will be some residual loss of function. However the doc-tors would not elaborate on the extent of the loss. The police have located what they believe to be the location where the shooter waited but they found no clues as to the identity of the shooter. The men are all employed by an out-of-town contract-or, currently working on a downtown building project.

Sean quickly opened the other paper and scanned for the article but, when he found it, determined that it read almost word for word the same. Refolding the papers, he put them aside and settled back to await his meal. By eleven o'clock, he was home again, in bed, and feeling no remorse.

Early Sunday afternoon, he called the Murray house and spoke to Rita's mom. He asked if he could come by for a few minutes and talk with Rita in person. Mrs. Murray was reluctant at first but decided that, if he was prepared to be disappointed, he could come by for a few minutes. Perhaps it would help her daughter out of her deep funk.

Sean arrived at three in the afternoon, bringing the papers and a bouquet of roses - deep red, Rita's favorite. She gave him a smile as she sniffed the fragrance of the flowers.

After the usual "How are you?" questions and answers, Sean said that he had something he wanted Rita to read. She was curious what it might be so he opened one of the papers to the page with the article and handed it to her, pointing out the article.

Rita read the article and looked puzzled. She reread it, wondering why Sean wanted her to read it. She looked at him quizzically.

He whispered, "One of them has red hair. Another is blond. The third is bald - shaven."

He watched a dawning appear on Rita's face.

"You mean ...?"

"Yes, sweetie. The men who raped you will never rape anyone else."

"No? Why not? It says they are still ..."

"Yes, they are alive. But for the rest of their lives, they will have to sit down to pee. And there is nothing to get hard."

Rita's eyes were as big as saucers. "Did you ...?"

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. "You must know ... if you ever - EVER - tell anyone else, I will go to prison for a long time. If that is what you want, then my life is in your hands."

Rita put her arms around Sean's neck and hugged him fiercely. "No! NO! That is not what I want. I love you, Sean. I ... I can't ... believe you did this ... for me. Sean, I love you!"

Sean's arms went around Rita and they clung to each other. "I love you, too, dear Rita. My dear sweet Rita. I would do anything for you. I love you so much."

For the first time in months, Rita's lips were on his, kissing, probing, and eager to taste him. Sean was surprised but loved her reaction and his tongue returned her action with an equal and opposite reaction. He had never dared hope that he would get such a positive reaction from her; a glimmer of hope would have made it worthwhile. This was beyond his greatest dreams.

Without breaking their hug, Rita turned and called, "Mom?"

Mrs. Murray hurried into the room in seconds, a worried look on her face. Her expression changed to puzzled when she saw her daughter and Sean hugging.

"Mom, Sean is going to come up to my room for a while to visit, okay? We'll be okay so don't worry about me, please. Sean brought me good news tonight."

Rita turned and planted another deep wet kiss on Sean's mouth, leaving her mother speechless but hopeful that her daughter was seeing "the light at the end of the tunnel." In times past, Mrs. Murray would have been astounded and embarrassed by the open display of affection between her daughter and her boyfriend. Now, however, she was encouraged and if Sean could do something to lift Rita from her depression, then some affection was quite all right with her. A fleeting thought came to mind: how would she feel if they became more intimate? Perhaps even that would be better than the depression!

Rita led Sean upstairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind him. She tugged him to the bed and sat beside him as they again hugged and kissed, parting minutes later only when they were both gasping for air. Rita stared into his eyes and then pushed him back onto the bed. Then she turned and lay on his chest, their mouths again meeting for another long kiss. This was, Sean knew, what he had been missing ever since the rape had occurred.

Rita broke their long kiss and held her head up, staring into Sean's eyes for long moments. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes and then the torrent started. She lowered her head to his shoulder and he again wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. He felt her whole body shake with the sobs and wondered what he had done wrong and whether he should call her mother.

"Do you want me to call your mother?" he asked in a whisper.

"No, baby. I am not upset. I just can't help it. You have made me so happy. I am so sorry I've been so ... so short with you these months, baby. I just ... couldn't seem to help it."

"So ... theses are tears of joy?"

"Yes. Or maybe relief. I don't know. I just know I feel better right now than I have in a long, long time."

"Me, too, sugar."

"Sean?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what I had planned for that night?"

"No."

"I planned to fuck your brains out."

"Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"I'm ... sorry that didn't happen."

"Do you still ... want me?"

"More than ever, dear heart! More than ever!"

She planted another quick sweet kiss on his lips.

Quickly she sat up, pulling at the buttons on her dress. "Come on, honey. We've got to make up for lost time!"

Rita, by virtue of her superior position, was the first one naked and set about helping Sean shed his clothes. Reluctantly she moved off the bed long enough to tell him to climb onto the middle of the mattress. No sooner had he settled back than Rita threw a leg over his torso, rubbed her dripping wet pussy against his throbbing erection and guided it into her treasure.

Sean noted that she was as tight as a virgin teenager - until he realized he had never experienced a virgin teenager. However Rita was hot and horny and roughly pushed herself down on his probe until he was completely engulfed inside her hot tunnel. Squeezing her internal muscles around his veined sword, she rested on his chest, nibbling on his neck and face as she savored the big stick filling her lower region.

She was too horny to let it rest though and she sat up, supporting herself with her hands on his shoulders as she began to bang her ass up and down his shaft. Her tits were swinging back and forth uncontrollably, slapping at Sean's face as he tried in vain to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. It didn't really matter ... he was having too much fun holding onto her pretty round bottom, helping her bounce up and down on his fulcrum.

The thought crossed Sean's mind, fleetingly, that Rita's parents, both sitting downstairs in the family room were probably getting an earful of the squeaking and banging of Rita's bed as it bounced against the wall. However if she wasn't concerned, he wouldn't be either. He was finally getting his reward from his loving girlfriend and he didn't care who knew that they loved each other. The sex was just a by-product of that love.

But it certainly was a delicious by-product. Sean recognized the vacuous feeling in his balls that portended his approaching orgasm. Fortunately just before he shot his load of hot cum into Rita's grasping cunt, she reached her own peak of pleasure and began shuddering with wave after wave of gratification. After it passed, Rita slumped onto Sean's chest and let him hold her while they basked in the afterglow of their delightful coupling.

A while later, they dressed and went downstairs, where Mrs. Murray offered them a fresh mug of hot coffee. Both accepted and sat in the den with her parents, sipping the steaming drinks.

After a long thoughtful pause, Rita said, "Mother, I think it is time I see about getting back to work."

"Dear, do you think it's wise to do that so soon?"

"Yes, Mother. I think the time is right and I feel so much better."

"Okay, then, how about taking another week to see how you feel? If you still feel that way in a week, then you'll know it is time to move on."

Rita pondered her mother's suggestion then glanced at her dad to see him nodding his concurrence.

"Okay. That's probably a good idea. I'll do that."

There was another pregnant pause, before Rita vowed, "Mom and Dad, I'm not going to hide anything from you. I love Sean and I intend to spend as much time with him as we can. You might as well know ... that means that I'll be having sex with him. I'm sure you probably disapprove but ... that's the way it is going to be. I hope I'm not letting you down too much."

Mrs. Murray came over to Rita and knelt in front of her, pulling Rita into her arms. "Baby, you will never let us down. I know you love him and I understand what you're saying. We just want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Sean makes you happy, then we welcome him with open arms."

With the time growing late, Sean rose to say his goodbyes. However a simple goodbye was not sufficient - Mrs. Murray required a big hug and kiss on the cheek plus a whispered and tearful 'Thank you.' Mr. Murray rose and shook Sean's hand warmly, the strongest feeling the two men had exchanged so far.

Rita walked Sean to his car and they set up a date for the following evening. Then she gave him one last lingering kiss that left him hard again. She patted his cock and laughed, telling him that he'd have to wait until the next evening when she would take care of it again for him - and better than their first time had been.

As Sean drove home in a semi-daze, his mind flashed back to an axiom he had learned in his high school physics class: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. In their case, the rape and burglary was the action, and their revenge and subsequent rejoining was the equal and opposite reaction. Okay, so it wasn't justice according to the law. But it was justice according to Sean Harper. At least it would be justice if Rita really turned out to be the same person she had been tonight!

The end.