Jessie Ch. 10

Probably someone really loved bombs.

I'd seen this before, the tactic of blowing something up, waiting for emergency crews to gather, for people to freeze, then detonating a massive car bomb.

Denver.

The Brotherhood of the Red Flag.

This was Morgan Skolnich's work.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I jumped a little, looked over. "Mrs. Nelson?"

"Gary? What happened?" My next-door neighbor was a short, squat, elderly woman, hair the color of Damascus steel, dark brown skin wrinkled by a lifetime of manual labor. She was wearing a gigantic bathrobe tied tightly around herself, three feet of it dragging on the road behind her. "Richie thinks it's the end of the world, he's praying, Daquan is hiding under his bed."

I gazed out at the shattered highway system, the crushed cars, the racing emergency vehicles.

"Terrorists just blew up the Marquette Interchange."

###

I listened to the pound pound pound of the basketball on the concrete, closed my eyes for a moment, and let my head fall back to take the warm sunlight on my face.

What a beautiful day to be alive.

Jessie had practically needed a crowbar to pry me away from the TV this afternoon. I've never been a news junkie, but not just living in the same town as a terrorist attack, but actually knowing who'd committed it had glued me to the idiot box from the time I'd come in last night until the time I'd started walking to the park, Jane perched on my shoulders.

The pundits were loudly talking over each other all morning, some saying it was the work of The Brotherhood, others staunchly denying it due to a spraypainted political message opposing them found on the side of the van that had contained the initial bomb. No one really believed that was anything other than a false flag due to the style of attack and the fact that the red and black bastards were the only one committing organized political violence these days, but that was the viewpoint that getting solidly advanced by the time I shut the TV off. One asshat was even suggesting that if The Brotherhood's totally legitimate political goals were met, they wouldn't feel the need to get violent.

I just about punched a hole in the television.

Jessie wasn't going to let a little thing like terrorism on American soil ruin our day, so we'd trekked down to the park so she and Sienna could play basketball, and I was watching Jane dig in the sandbox. The little tyke had figured out how to use the creaky sheet-metal backhoe the city had mounted on one side of the play area, and was unsteadily trying to dig her way to the earth's core. She giggled every time the bucket bit into the sand, and I smiled ruefully. Oh to be that carefree and naïve again.

I looked over at the two women playing basketball. I hadn't had exactly had the time and mental space to process last night yet, but I was... Comfortable... With what we'd done. I felt good. I felt right. I'd have to check in with both women - probably separately - soon, but they seemed even friendlier than usual and both in pretty good spirits. I watched them dance explosively around the court, colliding, bouncing away, jumping, sprinting, dribbling the ball in close and then lofting it up.

Dammit, they were gorgeous. Sweat-glistening skin, fine hair swinging around their faces, taut muscular bodies moving under athletic shorts and cutoff t-shirts. It seemed unreal that they'd both been in my bed last night.

I was a lucky man.

Jane wandered over holding a Sun-Drop bottle cap she'd excavated, proud of her find. I gave her a huge smile. "That's pretty cool, let's go wash that off." We headed over to the drinking fountain and I rubbed the packed sand off of it, leaving it shiny and new for the little girl.

"Drink?" she put the bottle cap in the pocket of her overalls and then reached up both hands. I grinned, picked her up and awkwardly held her with one arm while pressing the button for water. Jane laughed as it splashed her face, and she probably only drank about a thimbleful, but then she squirmed to get down. I set the toddler on the concrete, took her hand and walked back to metal bleachers by the basketball courts.

Soft wind rustled the trees overhead, and I looked up at the greenery waving against the bright blue sky.

Such a beautiful day to be alive.

###

The screen door slammed behind us as we walked into the kitchen, Jane darted for the living room and her dollhouse, Jessie beelined for the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and tossed another to Sienna. They guzzled hydration for a minute and then Jessie said "I'm gonna go up and take a shower."

The eyes she was making at Sienna were unmistakable.

See smirked. "I'm gonna make some lunch for the little one."

"I can make lunch," I interjected. "If you want to go, go. I'll watch her until you get back down."

"Really?" The blonde's eyes lit up. "You'll watch her until we're, uh..."

"Even feed her too. Just don't be too long."

Jessie strutted over and pressed her sweating body to me, pulled me close, and gave me a deep kiss. "Can't promise that, daddy," she said in a sultry voice.

I listened to the two women's footsteps hammer the steps going up to the second floor and smiled to myself.

This might turn out ok.

I walked to the living room, leaned against the wall and smiled as the little girl alternately used the bottlecap as a plate for Barbie and a hat for Ken.

Didn't think I'd ever think it was cute having a kid around.

"So. Jane. Do you want a sandwich and fish sticks for lunch, or should I make mac and cheese and hot dogs?"

"MAC!"

Her squeal of happiness lightened my mood a fraction. "C'mon, let's go make it." I took her hand and we walked into the kitchen, and I started pulling ingredients from the cupboards.

Maybe I should turn the news on. They might've heard something new by now.

Maybe they'd caught Morgan Skolnich.

###

Sienna came back downstairs dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a towel wrapped around her hair. Jane shouted "Momma!" and ran to get scooped up in her arms.

I looked over from drying dishes. "Have a good shower?"

"Yeah, it was...nice. Jessie says she'd like you to come up, she needs to talk to you. I'll take over the dishes."

"Sounds good." I gave her a smile and headed upstairs.

Jessie was kneeling in the middle of our bedroom floor, arms clasped behind her, once more wearing her slutty schoolgirl costume and makeup from last night.

"This is unexpected."

"I didn't get cummed in last night while I was wearing this. Really wanted to."

I pulled off my t-shirt, set my Sig on the dresser. "I'm sorry."

Jessie licked her lips at the sight of my bare torso. "It's ok. We were interrupted."

"Yes, we were. Did you have a good shower?"

She nodded vigorously. "We did. Sienna was surprised that I wore my plug to play ball."

"I'm surprised too."

"What? I like it." She put her hands on the floor in front of her, arched her back, and very precisely and gracefully turned away from me, then reached back and lifted the red plaid skirt, pulled the white panties aside to show me the onyx gem set between her pale cheeks. "I want you to take it out and replace it with your cock."

I walked around in front of her, and she settled back to a kneeling position. "Very nice."

"When we were done, See asked if I could loan her a plug from our toy toybox. I gave her a small glass one and a medium."

"Very thoughtful of you, sharing your toys like that."

Jessie gave me a coy, but innocent smile. "I can be a good girl."

"You know that good girls get spanked too, right."

"I'm counting on it. I didn't get spanked last night, either, and I feel like if I don't today, I might do something bad."

I stepped in front of her, reached down to stroke her hair, her cheek. Jessie closed her eyes and tilted her hand against my hand contentedly for a moment, then looked up at me. "I know you need this too."

I tilted my head quizzically.

"I'm your sub. And I'm yours. I know you're stressed. On edge. Take it out on me."

My heart broke, looking down at this beautiful, thoughtfully, submissive, loving woman. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do. You own me. I love you."

"I love you too, Jessie."

That intelligent, feral grin stretched her lips. "Then fuck me like you don't."

###

Lightning hits the House of Wax

Poets spill out on the street

To set alight, the incomplete

Remainders of the future

- House Of Wax, Paul McCartney