Harmony Cliffs Ch. 03

Diana bit her bicep and reached down with one hand to rub her clit as hard and fast as she could: "Oh my god, I'm cumming! I'm gonna cum so hard!"

But Ronnie tapped her shoulder as he pulled out: "I'm cumming too, baby." Jerking himself off with one hand, he used his other hand to turn Diana around and rub her tits. "Let me cum all over those tits." Diana kneeled down, cupping a breast with one hand as she kept on rubbing her pussy.

The phone on the office desk started ringing. The both of them tried to ignore the sound, letting the call go to voice mail as Diana watched Ronnie frantically jerk off toward her offered chest. His breathing shortened as he bit his lip, and with a few muted grunts, ropes of semen shot out from his deflating cock to drench Diana's chest in pearly discharge.

But Diana wasn't done. She sat on the floor and spread her legs open, all while rubbing her clit the whole time: "I still haven't finished, baby. Please help me finish."

Ronnie crawled over back to her pussy. Diana grabbed a pencil and bit hard into it for what she knew was coming. With the expert skill of his mouth and his fingers, Ronnie brought Diana to a toe-curling, back-arching, face-flushing, breathtaking, heart-pounding release. The climax hit her in diminishing spasms, one after another, until she finally tapped Ronnie on the shoulder: "Enough, I'm done."

The two of them had just shared a shit-eating grin ("You were so fucking amazing!") when another phone rang. This time, it was Diana's personal cell phone. She picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," said the voice on the phone.

"Hi, Clayton!" Diana answered, trying to sound neutrally pleasant as she took a handful of Kleenex to wipe Ronnie's cum off her chest and her own cum off her thighs. "Everything okay?"

"Well, what about you?" Clay asked. "You sound like you're breathing heavy. Doing all right?"

Diana paused to calm herself down. She took a moment to look back at Ronnie, who was in the middle of pulling up his pants. "I guess it must be the connection, sweetie. I'm feeling just fine."

"Hm. Well, I tried calling you at your office--"

"I'm away on break right now, but what about you?" Diana asked, gesturing to Ronnie: "Could you get my blouse, please?" He moved over to rebutton it. "Shouldn't you be at school?" she continued.

"You haven't heard? School's closed."

Diana paused. "Why would the school be closed?"

"Mom, like half a dozen people are dead! Trenton Phelps, Peter Bates, Phil Davis--"

"Wait, wait," interrupted Diana, partway through smoothing out her skirt. "They closed the school for that?"

"They're calling it an 'inservice break.' I thought you might know more about what's going on."

"No, I don't," replied Diana. "I'll have to have a word with the superintendent and see if they really need all that money to stay open."

"Mom, didn't you hear me? People are dead! My friends are dead!"

"I know it's awful, sweetie, and I'm really sorry, but it's not like heart attacks are contagious. The school should stay open unless there's a health risk, and this is exactly what we pay teachers and school counselors for!"

"Mom, think about it. Six high school students and a teacher, all dead of heart attacks at the same time. Don't you think that's kinda weird?"

Diana paused again. "I'll talk with the sheriff-coroner. If there really is something going on -- and he's actually doing his job -- he'll know about it."

"Thank you. And there's one more thing."

"Yes, Clayton?"

"Do you know anything about Tommy Jensen?"

Ronnie couldn't hear the discussion, but he could see that deer-in-the-headlights look on Diana's face. "I'm really not sure, honey," Diana replied as evenly as she could. "Can you give me anything else besides the name?"

"Not really, no. I just heard the name, and I thought he might have something to do with all of this."

A pensive beat later, Diana asked "Have you told anyone else about this?"

"Just the cops," Clay replied.

"Then I would leave it to them," Diana told him. "If there is anyone by that name, I'm sure the police will find out more."

"Okay, Mom. Have a nice day."

"Don't wait up, honey."

"I never do," Clay told her, just before disconnecting.

Diana walked over to her intern. "Ronnie," she asked after zipping up his fly, "who's in charge of the Prescott estate?"

"Hard to say, ma'am," Ronnie answered. "Aaron Prescott's only been dead a few days."

"Figure it out," she replied. "I want that information on my desk right away. But first, get me the sheriff-coroner and the school superintendent. I need to tear someone a new asshole."

***

Munoz was parked outside the Peele household in an unmarked sedan. Nobody in the Peele family had left the house all day, so at least this was an easy stakeout. Though she would have felt a lot more confident with a second pair of eyes on the target, and the car was way less comfortable (though admittedly far less conspicuous) than Blue Betty. On the other hand, the lack of company and the lack of activity meant that it was much easier for Munoz to get some real work done.

On her phone, she had checked every search engine and social media site she could think of. She searched the websites of several different news sources all throughout California. She couldn't find any sign of a "Tommy Jensen" who'd have anything to do with this case. Time for Plan B.

Munoz dialed the number and extension she took from her desk. After a couple of ring tones, she was answered with "Thank you for calling the firm of O'Donnell, Mathis, and Clark, this is David Crew."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Crew. This is Deputy Munoz, De Lilla Police."

A pause on the line. "What can I do for you, officer?"

"I wanted to follow up on the death of your client. There have been some new developments."

Munoz could hear a heavy sigh. "Officer, I'm right in the middle of something. Can I call you back?"

"This will only take a moment. I'm just going to read off some names."

Now an exasperated grunt. "Okay, fine. What have you got?"

Munoz unfolded the list. "David Moultrie, Clayton Dawes, Danny Keyes, Jason Mayhew, Trenton Phelps, Phil Davis, Peter Bates, and Adam Curry."

"Never heard of them."

"No connection to Mr. Prescott?"

"None that I know of."

"What about Tommy Jensen?"

There was a very long pause on the line. "What do you know about Tommy Jensen?"

"Just a name that came up. Do the Prescotts know about him?"

"Aaron did. He spent a fortune making sure nobody ever heard his name."

"Why?"

"He never told me."

"What about his family, maybe someone else knows?"

"Oh, no. I can't talk with them. Conflict of interest."

"Wait, what?" Munoz asked. "What conflict of interest?"

"You didn't hear? Daniel Prescott is suing his mother."

She hadn't heard. "Over what?"

"The inheritance, I imagine. All I know is, I can't represent the both of them, so they let me go and hired their own lawyers."

That explained why he was being so open with all of this. "Thank you, Mr. Crew," said Munoz. "We'll be in touch."

She disconnected. With one eye on the Peele house and one on her phone, Munoz went online to read everything she could find on Daniel Prescott. At least she knew he existed.

***

After two long hours, Clay started wondering how the hell long this was going to take. Not that he had anything else to do, but he had already spent the past several hours walking back and forth between Harmony Cliffs and the tide pool. He had traced and redrawn the nude portrait a dozen times. He sang that lilting melody as long and loud as he...

Clay stopped. All at once, he realized that he was tired, hungry, he looked like shit, and he was acting like a lunatic. "What am I doing?" he asked aloud to no one. Clay turned to walk back toward the Cliffs. And then something caught his eye.

There was something in the water. Like a dark red stain floating just off the shore. Clay wondered why he hadn't seen it before. His legs were feeling leaden by now, but Clay still ran over to see what it was.

As he came closer, it felt like that moment when a dream becomes a nightmare.

Clay immediately recognized Her, but she looked all wrong. Her pale skin was rotten. Her smooth features were bloated. Faded and worn clothes hung around her in tatters. Her legs and arms were bent at unnatural angles. Blood flowed from a hole in her gut, mixing with the rust colored hair floating around her.

So much blood. How could so much blood come from so small a wound? Where was it all coming from? Where was it all going?

Clay turned away in horror and ran right into someone else. "AAGH!" Clay barely heard himself scream as he fell back onto the sand. He scrambled to look behind him, and the corpse was gone. But right in front of him, there She finally was. Bright pale skin, perfectly smooth features, glowing green eyes, and fiery red hair, just as he had always known Her.

She opened her arms, but Clay frantically pushed himself away from the embrace. "What the fuck are you and what do you want with me?!"

She looked at him with a morose expression. She talked as if every word took great effort. "Please... help me," she whispered.

"Help you with what? Killing people? My friends are dead because of you!"

"I... must... find him," she pleaded.

"Him. You mean Tommy Jensen?"

She nodded.

"Why? Why is this so important? What happens when you find him? Gonna kill him? And what about me, why didn't you kill me?!"

The beach vanished around them. Clay stayed immobile in the black void as She floated to his side. She touched his shoulder and two... well, Clay saw two "lights" for lack of a better word. Though they looked more like people who had been photographed so far out of focus that they showed up as blurry circles. What's more, both of these circles somehow seemed to radiate pain and anguish, as a flame radiates heat.

Clay immediately recognized one of the lights. It radiated the same emotional aches that he himself had felt nearly every day. What's more, he could see himself in the circle, just slightly out of focus. Before Clay could ask why, he was stopped by a faint echo of chest pains. The same he felt on that beach, just after CPR woke him up.

The other light began singing. Clay knew the song all too well by now. And as the song played out, three other lights faded into view, each giving off their own kind of emotional vibes. One of them was female, he somehow knew instantly.

Slowly, Clay recognized the layout: this was detention. The other three lights were sitting exactly where John, Travis, and Jenny Teague were sitting. Which meant that the singing light -- the one giving off overpowering despair -- had to be Mr. Moultrie. Sure enough, the light moved just as Clay knew Moultrie had. As the light wandered, Clay could feel Moultrie's grief turn to joy. And he could also see the circle slowly come into focus as Moultrie fell over and died.

Clay started putting this all together. "You can't see him. You can't even see anyone until they're dead. Is that right?" She nodded. "So... what's the plan, then? Are you just going to kill everyone until you find this guy? How do you know he's even here?!"

She shook her head. Her lip started trembling. She held her face in her hands and sobbed loudly. It was unsettling to watch -- Clay had never even thought that She was human enough to cry.

"Look, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know how to stop this. I can't help you. Hell, I shouldn't even be here!" He advanced toward her. "I was supposed to die that night. Did you know that? Why did you stop me, why bring me into this?"

The scene shifted again. This time, Clay immediately recognized his surroundings. Phil Davis' birthday party. He had just turned 11. It was a massive pool party, all the kids and their parents were there.

"How?" asked Clay. "How are you doing this?" She responded by pointing toward the pool. He didn't need to see what she was pointing to.

Clay could vividly remember watching Becca Wells as she ran around the edge of the pool. He had a massive crush on her even then. He saw the way Becca slipped. The way she hit the edge of the pool. The way she tumbled into the water. It all happened so fast, too fast for anyone else to see that anything was wrong. Clay didn't even remember diving in to bring her back to the surface, but that's exactly what he saw himself do.

She'd never run anywhere again. Letting her drown might have been kinder, but he knew Becca would be the first one to slug him for saying so.

The scene faded around them. She floated over to face him. With a proud smile, she placed a hand on his chest. Right above his heart.

"That was a long time ago," he said. "I don't even remember what I was thinking, I just..." he trailed off. She shook her head and looked at him with a smirk. Then she kissed him.

Just like the first time, all of Clay's insecurities somehow melted away. Though he had no idea how to react until She put her hands on his shoulders and ran them down his arms until she could place his hands on her waist. Clay leaned into the kiss and held her close, folding his arms around her in a tight embrace.

But Clay hesitated. Somewhere in the back of his head, Clay knew that the last time this happened, he had almost died. She backed away, as if she had somehow heard his thoughts. She floated away, just out of arm's reach, and kneeled down in front of him.

She was on her knees with her legs partway open. Her hands were at her sides, palms facing toward him. Nude and defenseless, she looked up at him with those big bright green eyes. The message was clear: "Do whatever you want with me. I won't hurt you."

Clay didn't even think about what he was doing. He didn't register taking any steps toward her. But Clay did what any young virgin would do by reflex after countless hours of internet porn: He walked to the naked young gorgeous woman kneeling in front of him, begging for whatever treatment he wanted to give her, and he took out his dick.

She didn't act the least bit surprised or shocked as Clay took off his pants. Though she was very slow and careful as she affectionately rubbed her hands over his inner thighs. She laid several quick kisses through his nest of dark pubic hair, all as she slowly and tenderly grasped his manhood. He could feel his spine tingling and his blood pulsing as she held his balls in a gentle touch and slowly stroked her fingers along his length.

Clay frantically wondered why she kept teasing him like this, as she softly kissed the tender head of his dick. But then she held her mouth open, holding his penis just outside her lips, and looked up into his eyes. Clay couldn't help laughing just a bit -- she was asking his permission. So of course he nodded. And then he grunted with pleasure as he watched and felt his erection disappear between her lips. Inch by agonizing inch.

With an "Ah! Ah... AH!" Clay could feel his cock growing harder and more sensitive as her warm lips and strong tongue lubricated his stiffening length. She went back and forth, over and over again, rubbing his dick, moving her head back and forth, all with a slow but steady pace that simply did not falter.

Finally, Clay put a hand to her shoulder and gently pushed away. She immediately stopped and looked up at him. "I want a turn."

She offered no resistance as they floated into position. Her hands were at her side, her legs were spread open, and there was that glistening pussy, so smooth that it didn't seem like there were any hairs to shave. It beckoned to him as always, with those blossoming petals spreading outward, eager to embrace him. But somehow, Clay knew enough to savor this. There was nobody else around, no threat of being caught, and this babe had already made it clear that she wouldn't stop him from doing anything. Plus, she had taken so long teasing him -- time for some payback.

He started with the inner thighs, kissing and massaging them just above the knee. He steadily moved upward as slowly as his urges would allow, savoring the flawless white skin of her thighs even as he craved the more sensitive flesh of her sex. She did nothing to stop him or spur him on, though he could hear her moans and feel her skin quiver.

She spread her legs further open, giving him more access as his hands and lips moved further upward. Yet it seemed that he reached her crotch too quickly. So he left a trail of kisses up and around, kissing her belly while his thumbs rubbed back and forth against her vulva. He could feel her chest rise and fall in spasms as her breath quickened.

Clay slowly moved down, keeping his eyes on her reaction as best he could. He kissed her pubis, and she seemed content. He kissed her mound, and she seemed eager, though she did nothing. But then he kissed her swollen labia and she gasped as if she had been holding her breath for the past several minutes.

Clay had no idea how to really do this, so he kept on going slow and steady. As tenderly as he could, he gently held back the engorged nether lips and parted them with his tongue. He probed deeper, kissing and sucking and licking and rubbing her slit, taking in her sweet nectar, emboldened with every moan of passion he heard. Then she reached down to rub her mound, pulling upward to reveal her swollen clit. Clay tried to lick and suck the general vicinity of that beautiful pink pearl, and his efforts were rewarded with more blissful cries.

Her hips were thrusting upward into Clay's face and his cock was sore with stiffness. It was time. Clay moved upward, pausing only to take in her breasts. She arched her back as he felt her breasts, massaging them toward the points of those painfully erect pink nipples.

He was finally floating on top of her. He licked his fingers and rubbed her opening -- not that he needed the lubrication, that's just what he'd seen in every porn video ever. Then he slapped his dick against her nether lips, for the same reason. If this made any difference to Her, she didn't show it. She just looked up at him with a primal need for satisfaction.

Clay didn't know if any of this was real. He had no idea if this would count as his first time. But he knew it felt real enough as he gradually slid his length into her wet hole. He savored every second of warm velvet walls surrounding his hard, bare cock for the first time. With her blossoming labia, her expression of joy, and her moans of sated anticipation, She welcomed every inch inside of her.

When Clay was finally in up to the hilt, he asked "How does that feel? Is it good?" She nodded. Her smile beamed with sincere rapture. "Okay, then," Clay said tenuously, and he started moving his hips.

Clay was astonished how easily it came to him as he moved his hips back and forth in a steady building rhythm. He wrapped his arms under hers, gripping her shoulders to pull her toward him with each thrust. She fondled her tits, which shook repeatedly as he plowed into her.

He shifted his grip to her waist, going for quick and shallow thrusts instead of slow and deep. The response was immediate. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth gaped open in an expression of overwhelming bliss. She reached down with one hand to furiously rub her clit as he kept pounding away.

As her breathing quickened and her screams reached a higher pitch, he could feel her warm and slippery channel clenching hard around his member. He felt her hips rocking back and forth in perfect time with his own thrusts. The sensation was so overpowering that it brought him even more pressure building up inside his manhood. Clay went back to slow and hard thrusts, clenching her ass hard as She kept on furiously rubbing her clit. Screaming together in rapture, She arched her back as Clay shot his load deep inside of her.