tagSci-Fi & FantasyHarmony Cliffs Ch. 05

Harmony Cliffs Ch. 05


Author's note: All sexual acts portrayed in this story are between characters aged 18 or older. Any resemblance to non-fictional people and events is neither intended by the author nor inferred by the text.

Thank you for reading. Please enjoy.

Chapter 5


Olivia Courtis' ears perked up. Did she just hear that?


Yes, there it was again. She had only come back from college that morning, and there it was. With a smile, Olivia went to her bedroom window. Just in time for another pebble to plink against it. Olivia opened the window and leaned out into the warm summer night.

She looked around the back yard for Aaron Prescott, and there he was, waving his arms frantically. With a glance backward to make sure no one was coming to open her door, Olivia waved him up. Aaron was all muscle, he had done this countless times since they were kids, and he knew exactly which beams and branches could support his weight, so he took almost no time climbing up to Olivia's window.

He snuck into her room as softly as possible, she shut the window quietly, and then they kissed each other deeply. She felt up his firm biceps as he caressed her waist through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

Finally, they came up for breath. "How's your family?" she whispered.

"They're good," he whispered back. "The shop's doing great. What about you, sweetheart?"

She pulled him closer. "My mother's asleep. So is Lana. Daddy's gone somewhere for tonight." Olivia left a trail of soft kisses along his jawline until her lips grazed his ear. "We've got the whole house to ourselves, but we have to be quick and quiet."

Then she suddenly pulled away. "Come on." Taking Aaron by the hand, she led him to the bedroom door. Though she paused on the way to hand him a jar of Vaseline. His eyes went wide. "Are you really-?"

She silenced him with a finger to her lips. Slowly and carefully, she opened the door and led Aaron down the hallway. Anxiety started to creep in as Aaron recognized where Olivia was leading him. Sure enough, Olivia opened another door and led Aaron into John Courtis' study.

"What is this?!" he hissed toward Olivia, as she softly closed the door and turned on a light.

"I wanted this to be special," she explained, drawing him close. "Our first time together since I went away to college."

"We could've just had sex," he argued.

Olivia shook her head. "You know the rules."

"How is it any of his business?" he snarled. "Like he would ever know."

"He'd know," Olivia told him. "He'd figure it out somehow, just trust me. It's what he does. Look, we can't break the rules, so we'll just have to keep on bending them." She pointed to the jar of Vaseline. "You want to use that, right?"

Aaron nodded as he started to open the jar. Then she stopped him. "No, no," she lightly admonished him. "We're going to do this quickly, but we're going to do it right." Then she kneeled down in front of him to undo his belt.

"Why here?" he asked.

"It's only because of him that I have to stay a virgin," she responded. "Do you like that?"


"That's why." With that, Olivia pulled down Aaron's jeans and his boxers.

"Works for me," said Aaron. He stepped out of his discarded clothes and threw off his shirt as she caressed his manhood, gently cradling his balls while running a finger all up and down that long, thick shaft. She looked up at him with those piercing blue eyes as she rubbed her tongue all up and down his stiffening length.

Aaron grabbed the chair behind him for support. He looked down at her fiery red pixie-cut hair, he admired the bright freckles all over her pale face, and he watched her as her mouth bobbed and circled all around the head of his cock. "Oh, you look amazing, baby," he groaned.

With a smile and a short laugh, she held him steady. And then she slowly, steadily took him into her mouth. And then she kept on going, and going, and going, until she had gone so far back that her tongue could tickle his balls. She held that position for as long as she could - only a few seconds - until she withdrew to jerk off his spit-coated shaft.

"That's right, sweetheart," Aaron groaned. "Get me good and hard for this." In response, Olivia jerked him off with increasing speed as her head moved rapidly back and forth along his dick. All the while, Olivia reached down with her other hand between the folds of her robe. She pleasured herself, humming and moaning her satisfaction to the cock in her mouth.

"Ah... ah... Oh, fuck, baby!" moaned Aaron, struggling to keep quiet. It was hard enough to keep standing up while his knees felt so weak.

"Don't cum yet, handsome," Olivia told him as she licked the tip of his member. "You can't cum yet, not before the real fun."

Aaron nodded as she took him back into her mouth. Her cheeks caved inward as she sucked his rod, and Aaron's eyes rolled upward at the sensation. Her skin went flush as she kept on rubbing her greedy,

swollen gash. After several minutes, his dick was hard and throbbing, her pussy was soaking wet, and her neck felt like it was going to break apart. Finally, she looked up at him. "You ready, baby?"

"Not just yet." He picked her up and tore off her nightgown, revealing constellations of freckled and flushed pink skin underneath. Then he pulled her against him, tightly gripping her ass as he hungrily tasted her lips.

"Yeah," he groaned, "I'm ready. Where do you want it?"

She leaned over, placing her hands at the edge of an ornate walnut desk, made for her father as a birthday gift from a sculptor he had sponsored. Olivia bent over, arched her back, and offered up her

perfectly round ass to Aaron. "Like this," she breathed. "Take me just like this."

Aaron picked up the Vaseline jar and opened it, getting his fingers coated in the stuff. "Reach back and spread 'em, babe. Lemme see that sweet backdoor."

Resting her shoulders on the edge of the desk, Olivia reached back. He could see that deep red pussy with its engorged lips and its sticky wet bush of crimson curls. It called to him, but Aaron kept his focus on that dark and sensitive spot between her pale cheeks.

"Oh, yeah," he said, reaching forward. "There it is." Slowly and gently, Aaron coated her anus in the cool petroleum jelly. Olivia shivered at the touch. Then he ventured further, quickly rubbing a Vaseline-coated finger against her backdoor until it slowly burrowed into her asshole. Olivia let out a short cry at the sensation, though she covered her mouth and tried to stay quiet.

Aaron lightly moved his finger in and out of her tight asshole, gently probing inward to see how much she could take. "You ready for my cock?" he asked.

She looked back at him. "That's not your cock?" she hissed. Aaron pulled his finger out and showed it to her. Olivia's eyes went wide.

"More Vaseline," she told him. "That monster is going to need a lot more Vaseline."

Aaron was still slippery and wet from that blowjob, but he still took some Vaseline and rubbed it all over his member. Then he put that swollen purple head right into her crack, rubbing it up and down against her tight, puckered anus.

Olivia gasped at the sensation, but forced herself to relax. She released her ass cheeks to keep a steady grip on the edge of her father's desk. She took a few deep breaths, then whispered "Go easy, baby. Take it slow."

Aaron did go slow. He very carefully pushed forward, watching as the head of his cock disappeared into Olivia's rectum. Olivia's jaw dropped, and her voice caught in her throat as she felt his thick, hot shaft go up and inside her bowels. Olivia screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

Finally, Aaron's cock went as far as it could go. Olivia panted with relief, as Aaron savored the feeling of her deepest, darkest bowels pressed tightly all around his throbbing member. "How do you feel?" he

finally asked.

Olivia reached back. She grabbed Aaron's hand to take it off her waist and onto her dangling breast. "Keep going, stud," she moaned, "but go slowly." As Olivia pointed to the desk, Aaron remembered that they really didn't want to mess it up any more than they had to. Christ, Olivia really had planned this whole thing out.

Aaron leaned forward, taking firm hold of Olivia's full breasts while he kept an eye on her father's desk. Taking care not to disturb anything, he struggled to fuck her asshole with smooth, slow, even strokes. It pained him not to go faster - even as slowly as he was going, Aaron was driven mad with lust at the feeling of her tightest hole clinching his most delicate member. He could feel the warm, wet walls of her deepest and darkest places, all pressing so tightly that he felt an exquisite agony as he rubbed against them.

It was all Olivia could do to keep from screaming. She knew that the feeling of his hot flesh inside of her would feel incredible, but not like this. With his hands on her breasts, Olivia could feel him all over and inside her. Though Olivia knew she had to brace herself against the desk, her whole body was bucking and sweating, begging for release.

Olivia took a risk by reaching back with one hand to rub her swollen pussy. Getting pleasured by two holes at once was almost more than she could bear, and she struggled to keep moaning through gritted teeth. She could hear Aaron moaning louder, feel him pulsing through her bowels, and then she felt a powerful kind of liquid heat coursing through her.

Aaron stopped. His whole body shuddered, and he let out a low, guttural moan. Olivia felt his member deflate before it was pulled completely out of her. Olivia turned around to face him.

"Did you-?" she didn't even have to finish the question. She could see Aaron bent over and panting, his dick hanging wet and limp.

"You were amazing, baby," Aaron panted out. "Did you like that?"

Olivia smiled. "I loved it, Aaron. You were amazing." It certainly wasn't a lie. But before she could ask for another round, she heard something.

"Someone's coming!" she urgently whispered as she gathered up her clothes. "Hide, now!"

Aaron wasted no time, but gathered his own clothes and moved to the closet. Olivia turned off the light and followed him inside before Aaron closed the both of them inside. A few moments later, there was the sound of a door opening and light crept underneath the closet door. Two sets of footsteps came in and the study door was closed.

"You want to tell me what this is about, sir?" Olivia knew that voice.

"Mister Jensen," intoned her father, "I want you to answer me with complete honesty. How much does Lana know?"

There was a strange pause. "About what?" asked Tommy.

"About you," answered Courtis. "About where you came from. Why you're here."

"There's nothing to tell."

Olivia heard some drawers and papers getting shuffled around. "I beg to differ."

More paper getting shuffled. Or perhaps the pages were being flipped through? "Look, Mister Courtis," pleaded Tommy, "I don't know where you got all of this, but it isn't me."

"These are warrants and court records, Mister Jensen. And it looks to me like you've got a price on your head!"

"That's not me anymore. I just came here looking for a fresh start, can't I have that?"

Another pause. Then another drawer opening, and more footsteps.

"What's this?" asked Tommy.

"Your fresh start. If you want that check to clear, you'll leave town tomorrow and never come back."

"And what about Lana?"

"Make sure she doesn't follow you. I don't care how badly you have to break her heart, just keep her out of this."

"And what if I don't? You can't have me arrested, I've done nothing wrong!"

"Mister Jensen," Courtis reminded him with a tap on his desk, "I'm a newspaper man. I don't need to kill you or arrest you to destroy you."


Several decades later, Becca Wells was watching the sunset from the tide pool by Harmony Cliffs. She badly needed this. So much had happened in the brief time since her last visit here, and Becca very desperately needed to unwind. But it was getting late, and it was probably time for her to get back home.

Freshly relaxed, Becca pulled herself back into her chair and dried herself off. She never heard or saw the gun until it was right up against her head.


"There's not much left to see," said the prison nurse as he guided Clay and Munoz through the infirmary at Folsom Prison.

"But he's still alive?" asked Clay.

"Last I checked, he was," answered the nurse. "But stage four lung cancer is very hard to treat at the best of times. For a lifetime inmate of his age with no next of kin? There's not much more we can do except an oxygen tank and a morphine drip."

"Is he talking?" asked Munoz.

"Comes and goes. But he's been very lucid for the past few days."

"How so?"

The nurse shrugged. "He just about died of a heart attack five days ago, and he's been talking a lot more frequently ever since. But we're not sure why. His signs aren't getting any better."

Five days ago. Just about the time when Aaron Prescott was killed. That couldn't be a coincidence.

They walked along the rows and rows of hospital beds, heading toward one of many that was closed off by a curtain. "Wait here," the nurse instructed. Clay and Munoz waited while the nurse walked behind the curtain.

"Jensen?" Clay could hear the nurse say. "Jensen! You have visitors." There was a deep grumbling voice that Clay couldn't make out. Then the nurse reappeared. "You can go in to see him," he told Clay and Munoz. "I'll be right out here."

Munoz walked right through the curtain. Clay hesitated for a moment, but he followed her in.

The man on the bed was pale and deathly thin. There were tubes going into and all around him. What little hair was left had gone white. His smooth marble face had become craggy. Yet Clay still nodded to Munoz: This was definitely him.

Munoz ventured to speak. "Tommy Jensen? I'm Deputy Munoz and this is Clayton Dawes. We need to ask you about John Courtis' daughter."

"Lana," he croaked.

Clay and Munoz traded looks. Clay gave an uncertain shrug. "Was that her name?" Munoz asked Jensen. "Lana Courtis?"

Jensen nodded. Clay took out his sketch and unfolded it. "This is her, isn't it?" Clay asked Jensen, showing him the picture. "Is this Lana?"

Jensen cleared his throat with deep and raspy coughs as he took the sketch. His eyes widened, and his mouth curved upwards into a morose kind of smile. "After all these years," he rasped out, "I'd forgotten what she looked like. Where did you find this, kid?"

"Mister Jensen," Munoz interjected. "Tell us about Lana Courtis. What happened?"

Jensen coughed some more, then lay back on the bed with a sigh. "I killed her," he rasped.

"It can't be that simple," Clay pleaded. "There has to be more to it." After a brief silence, he added "You loved her, didn't you?"

Jensen nodded in a morose sort of way. "Yeah. I did."

"Just tell us what happened," Clay asked him. "Please."

Jensen sobbed as he coughed. "Her dad wanted me gone. Told me to leave town, never see her again. So I got her a message, told her to meet me at the Cliffs."


Tommy and Lana sat at the Cliffs in silence for a long time after Tommy had brought her up to speed.

"Where will you go?" Lana finally asked.

"I don't know," Tommy replied. "Even if I did, I don't know if I should tell you."

"What, you're afraid I'd go after you?"

"Would you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

Tommy shook his head. "Look, baby, I've been living on the streets for years now. I can handle it, I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can!"

"And what about you? Think about it, Lana. You'd be on the run from your own family. No money, no one to rely on, you'd have nothing."

Lana shrugged. "We'd have your check. That would give us a good start someplace."

"He would cancel the check the moment you left."

"So we wait until you cash it. Look," she explained, "we agree to meet someplace. You go there, cash the check, and when Daddy's convinced that everything's fine, I sneak out to meet you."

Tommy just stared at her. "You're serious."


"You'd do that for me."

"I'd do it for us, darling."

"But you don't even know all the crap your dad found out about me or why I'm leaving-"

"Sweetie," she interrupted. "You're not the man you were when we first met. You're not even the man you were a month ago. Whoever you were back then, that's not who you are now. I know you, Tommy-Tommy. I trust you."

She put a hand on his cheek, and he held it in his own. "You really think we can start over from nothing?"

"If we do it together, yes."

"That sounds like a proposal."

There was a stunned sort of silence as Lana went back over her own words. "Well... yes, I suppose it does."

"Then you'll marry me?" Lana jumped to her feet in shock. A pause later, and Tommy picked himself up to one knee for added effect. "Please, Lana Courtis. Make this shady, good-for-nothing bum an honest man."

Lana looked down on him. The way the light caught his face, he was every bit as handsome as the day they met at that very spot. Choking back tears, Lana nodded her agreement, but she never got the first word out.

"So I guess you're both coming with me." Lana was interrupted by a tall, thin man who was coming up to the end of the trail. She hadn't seen him before, but Tommy clearly had.

Tommy stood to face him. "You."

The stranger nodded. "Jensen. It's been a long time. We've all missed you."

Lana stepped forward. "I'm sorry, who are-?" Tommy raised a hand to stop her. The stranger responded by pulling a gun.

"You both stay were I can see you," intoned the stranger. "No need for anyone to get hurt. I'm just here to bring you back home." Lana raised her hands as Tommy stepped back away from her.

"Last I checked, I wasn't allowed back there anymore," said Tommy. "Dom Cinneo told me himself-"

"Dom Cinneo is dead," interrupted the stranger. "There's a new boss now, and he's not the forgiving type."

"What is there to forgive?" Tommy asked. "I paid my debt."

Lana ventured to speak. "Look, if this is about money-"

"He ran out on a contract. He-" It wasn't much of a distraction, but Lana gave Tommy just enough time to draw his own concealed pistol. Both of them fired. At point-blank range over a cliff with nothing to hide behind, the gunfight didn't last long. Within three seconds, the stranger was on the ground, gasping out his last breaths.

Tommy spun around to face Lana. "Are you-?" He couldn't finish the question. She was clearly not all right. She was holding a bullet wound in her abdomen. She looked at Tommy as she went pale and her jaw dropped open. Just before her eyes rolled back.

"LANA, NO!" Tommy ran toward her, but he couldn't run fast enough. He had to watch as Lana fainted backward, tumbling off the cliff. Tommy reached down from the ledge, but there was no chance that he could catch her. He couldn't help her climb up.

He could only watch Lana's limp body as it kept on falling, falling, falling, until she was broken on the rocks below.


"So I threw the other guy over the cliff," Jensen coughed out. "Why the hell not, right? Then I ran."

"And state police picked you up?" asked Munoz.

"Didn't even make it to the state border." Jensen rasped out.

"But that still doesn't explain how you killed her," Munoz pointed out. "Sounds to me like she was killed by this hitman."

"He was only there because of me!" cried Jensen. After another coughing fit, he continued, more softly. "The only reason she's dead is because of me. I might as well have killed her. And I killed a man anyway, so what's the point?"

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