Oh, Ronnie!

"From what we've been able to figure out she was topless and giving him a blowjob when the initial collision occurred. We know that because the impact caused her to bite his penis in two. We found it in her mouth and throat.

"He probably would have survived the collision because of the airbags, but he bled out through his penis before the firemen were able to get him out of the wreck. Your wife appeared to have died from a broken neck—whiplash that appears to have resulted from her lying down instead of sitting up. She wasn't wearing her shoulder belt. Too bad."

"If you say so. All of this began because I watched a little porn and jacked off. How many men have done the same? If caught by their wives they'd probably promise to stop like I did and that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, Gail wasn't one of those women." I stood up, thanked him for the information, and walked out the door.

%%%%%%

There were plenty of tears at the wake and the funeral, but none from me. I was sure that her friends and relatives felt that I was keeping the proverbial stiff upper lip—being strong for the sake of the family. Only Amy knew the truth and she remained silent at my side.

Family and friends were invited to what had been our home after the burial for drinks and food that was catered by a local restaurant. These events were always lighter emotionally than the wake or funeral. Only when all had gone did things get ugly with my former father-in-law.

"You're hiding something from us, Ronald and I'll get it out of you if I have to beat you senseless. I don't believe that she was willingly in that car with a nigger." He was leaning forward in a threatening pose with his fists clenched.

'Let it go, Daddy. You're not helping," Amy implored, but it did no good.

"Okay, George...you asked for it, now you're going to get it. Your princess daughter was having an affair with that so-called nigger. She just couldn't get enough of his big black cock. I ought to know. She forced me to watch often enough. She died because she was horizontal on the seats giving him a blowjob when the collision occurred. He died because she bit his penis in two. It was found in her mouth and throat when they were finally able to pull them out. Happy now? Your daughter was just a cheap slut in love with a big black cock. Maybe next time someone tells you to mind your own business you'll listen. Now, get the hell out and leave me alone." Gail's parents left, but Amy stayed behind as I began to clean up.

"I have to go, too, Ronnie, but tell me...were you able to get out of that horrible device?"

"Not yet. The keys are in a safe deposit box and I'll need a death certificate to open it. I should get it in another week or so. It's frustrating, but there's nothing I can do to hasten the process. Thanks for asking and thanks even more for your support." I hugged Amy and she walked out to join her parents. I could hear their arguing before Amy drove away apparently in disgust at her father's comments and behavior.

%%%%%%

It's amazing the diversity of clients an accountant can have. For example, I have businesses large and small as well as several school districts and churches in the county. I also worked with doctors, dentists, lawyers, plumbers, teachers, insurance salespeople and—yes—even auto mechanics, one of whom owed me a huge favor.

It was about eight years ago when Louie DiNunzio and his attorney contacted me about saving his company—Louie's Auto Repair--if he was able to divorce his cheating slut wife. "Sure," I told him. "You can sell the company to me for a fraction of its real value. Then you'll just be an employee. Your wife will get half of the sales price. I'll get my money back from the profits and in a few years, I'll be disinterested in owning an auto repair shop and I'll sell it back to you. That transaction will be on paper and no real money will change hands. You'll still do all of the management activities, but your wife will be unable to fuck up your company and destroy all of your hard work."

Now Louie had really repaid his debt. It all began when he told me that he had a Porsche 911 while I was checking his books. "It has an electric power steering module that's controlled by one of the many small computers on board. I can 'adjust' the steering so when he goes more than eighty it will jerk the wheel hard left. Most of the time that will cause the vehicle to flip. You know...inertia." Louie had done all of the work the night before the accident while Jacob's car was in my garage and mine was out in the street. Of course, Jacob was occupied the entire time with my wife's disgusting cunt.

I stopped by Louie's shop the following Monday morning to get my oil and filter changed, going the rest of the way to my office in the passenger seat of Louie's Porsche. What he said to me was a real shock—"Sorry, Ronald, but I wasn't able to get to your house Friday night." That meant their deaths really were the result of an accident—something that probably would have been completely avoided if their behavior had been more responsible. Too bad, but I felt no remorse after the way I had been treated. He delivered my Honda Pilot to my office just before noon. He had placed the keys in my hand when he commented, "Did I ever mention that I keep my Porsche in my locked garage. You might give some thought to locking that side door of yours." He left the office just a few seconds later.

Meanwhile, I'd been able to find the key to Gail's safe deposit box and, while there may be hundreds of branch offices in our nearby city, there are only a handful of actual banks. Phone calls to their national headquarters told me what branch of what bank held the keys to my freedom. I went there—twelve miles one way—in spite of my heavy work load as April 15^th approached. I had the death certificate, my passport, Gail's will, and my Power of Attorney so I had no problem getting into the box. I put the keys into a paper bag that I'd brought along for that purpose. I was surprised to find four thick bundles of hundred- dollar bills in the box. All told, they amounted to $40,000 which I assumed had been Jacob's money. I knew exactly how much Gail earned. All of that money was direct deposited into our joint account, an account that I maintained. I put that into the bag, too then canceled the box, explaining that my wife's unfortunate demise had eliminated the need for the extra security.

I had a private bathroom in my office so I locked the door and dropped my pants and boxers. The smaller key opened the top compartment—the one that held those damned anti pull-out pins that had threatened to cut off my cock. When I leaned forward and the cage was upside down, they fell harmlessly onto the tile floor. Next, I was able to open the entire cage and pull it off my body.

I cannot describe the sensations I experienced then. My cock swelled, filling with blood so quickly and so completely that it actually hurt. After months of captivity the pain was a relief. I massaged my poor organ, wanting to cum in the worst way. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. I dropped the entire evil apparatus into the bag and placed the money into my big safe as I returned to work.

%%%%%%

I was really looking forward to a great jerk-off session once I was home so, naturally, the day dragged terribly until I could finally leave just after 9:30 that evening. I stopped off at a diner for a quick meal of roast turkey and stuffing with mashed sweet potatoes. I was really thirsty so I opted for a jumbo ginger ale. I rarely drank unless on the weekend or out to dinner with Gail, not that she'd gone with me lately. By the time I had finished and driven the rest of the way home it was almost 11:00—time for bed so I could put in another hectic day again tomorrow.

I was surprised to find Amy sitting on my front porch as I drove into the garage. "What's up, honey?"

"I had a huge fight with my dad and I'm leaving home. I've had enough of his bullshit. I've had to play second fiddle to Gail my entire life. Nothing I ever did was good enough even though I got better grades than her and went to a better university. I earn more money than she did and I never would cheat on my husband like she did with you. I have a lot to tell you about that. It's the reason for the brawl with my asshole father."

I led Amy into the living room and sat her on the couch while I poured us each a glass of JW Blue with a couple of ice cubes. It's smooth enough that it can be sipped straight. Amy had said that she had something to tell me so I sat patiently. She took a couple of sips then a deep breath before she spoke. "Gail was cheating on you months before she caught you watching porn. One of the gals in my office was celebrating her birthday and she wanted to go to Parnell's—you know, that sleazy dive on the other side of the city?"

I nodded. It really was a dive, and—worse—there had been several shootings and sexual assaults there over the past year. "We were seated at a table enjoying a couple of drinks and listening to the music when I noticed Gail and this big black guy at a table near the end of the bar. They were doing everything but fucking at the table. I could see his hand up her dress and one of her tits was exposed for everyone to see. I tried to hide as we left, but Gail saw me. She threatened to tell our parents which would have been big trouble for me because they absolutely forbade me from going there. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't realize that it was an ongoing affair and I couldn't ever imagine that she'd do that cock cage thing to you. It sounds terrible, but I'm not broken up over her death.

"I have a favor to ask. Daddy threw me out of the house. It's okay. I should have left years ago, but I enjoyed the free rent and Mom's cooking. I could use a place to stay for a few days while I find an apartment. Could I stay here with you?"

"Of course; your sister may have tortured me, but you were the only one who stood by me and supported me, so stay as long as you like. Tax season will be over in a few days and I'll enjoy the company—besides, I can use some help disposing of Gail's clothes. Maybe you'd like some of her jewelry. Need any help bringing your stuff in?"

"No, I just have a small bag and I'm sure you're really tired. Go to bed. I'll close up the house and crash in the guest room." She stood and kissed my cheek before walking out to the curb for her clothes. By the time she returned I was in the shower rubbing out a long overdue orgasm. My cum splashed off the tile walls as I sagged back against the rear wall of the enclosure. "Damn," I thought. "That was fucking overdue and just incredible."

My legs were rubbery as I pushed off the wall and aimed the shower spray at my mess. Imagine my surprise as I turned to the shower's clear glass door to see Amy standing there totally naked and rubbing her naked cunt. I was even more surprised when she exclaimed, "Oh, 'Ronnie! Will you do that in my cunt next time? Please?"

I stepped out, seeing no reason to hide my body—the one she had already seen. "What are you doing here, Amy? You know the guest room has its own bath."

"I'm here for the same reason why I came here to your house. I've always had really strong feelings for you. I think you already knew that, but I couldn't do anything about them because of Gail. Now she's dead and my stupid parents are no longer in the picture either, so I'm free...free to explore my feelings for you."

By then she had pulled the towel from the rack and begun to dry my body as she leaned in for a tender kiss. Even at the age of thirty-six I felt my cock re-harden instantly. Gail had been thirty-four and I knew that Amy was seven years younger at twenty-seven. She was also a bit shorter at five feet four inches with a gorgeous slender body. Her B-cup breasts fit her tiny body spectacularly, riding high on her chest with puffy pink nipples and round light brown areolas that my hands found as soon as hers led me to them.

She moaned under my touch and as soon as she had dried me her hands led me to her oozing cunt. "That's so nice, Ronnie. Play with my cunt. I've wanted that for so long. You can't imagine the number of times I masturbated while dreaming that you were actually fucking me."

I felt that I was in Heaven as Amy gently stroked my cock. Leaning down, I whispered, "I think I can make that happen." Then we kissed—our first real romantic kiss, one that lingered for several minutes. Our tongues dueled and our faces were covered in spit when we broke it, but neither of us cared even a little. I kissed her again as I gently lifted her tiny body and carried her to my bed.

"Take me, Ronnie. Take me and fuck me good. Take me and make me your woman, the woman I've dreamed about being." I moved between her legs, my cock feeling as though it was made of steel or titanium. I doubted that I'd ever been harder, even for my first time with Gail. Amy was incredibly wet as I rubbed my cock into her slit and began to press home. Amy was tiny, weighing less than a hundred pounds and her pussy was in perfect proportion to her body. She was, by far, the tightest of any pussy I had experienced as I pushed forward.

I could feel her vaginal walls press against my erection as I began my rhythm. It wasn't long before Amy matched me thrust for thrust. I had plenty of staying power, having just cum hard only a few minutes ago. I must have been doing something right because Amy was shaking wildly under me and it only got worse as her orgasm neared. She was fucking me hard and screaming, "Fuck me, Ronnie. Fuck me! Fuck me!" Then it hit and I feared for her safety until she calmed down and her ragged breathing became regular. Then she looked up at me and smiled sweetly. "Oh, Ronnie!" Then she kissed me again as she moved her legs over my shoulders. "Oh, Ronnie—think we can do that again? I can't wait to give you my ass...my virgin ass. That's all yours, too just like every other part of me. Oh, Ronnie...fuck me and never stop. Oh, Ronnie...please!"

%%%%%%

I fucked Amy until neither of us could walk and then I fucked her again. We slept well into the morning. I phoned in to the office to tell them I wouldn't be in. That was unheard of during tax season, but it was one of the benefits of being the boss. Amy called into her office, pleading illness and returning to our embrace once the call was ended.

We stayed in bed until my dick was as soft as putty and we were both covered in a mixture of semen and pussy juice. Our abdomens and thighs were sticky to the touch as I leaned on my side to bring Amy into another embrace. I was nuzzling her ear when I whispered, "I think we could both use a shower. Care to join me?"

"Gladly...if I can find the strength in my legs to stand and walk and may I suggest that we do something about dinner? You're some lousy host, not providing me with food and drink."

"I beg to differ," I replied with a huge smile on my face. I think it was around three this morning that I gave you a mouthful of my finest."

Amy was laughing as she elbowed me in the ribs. "That was great but I don't think that spunk counts as real food. Let's go! I'm ready for that shower." I crawled off the bed, the sheets sticking to my skin as I turned to help my new lover to her feet. Arm in arm we strolled into the bathroom where I turned the hot water on while we used the toilet—Amy first. The water was scalding by the time I had flushed away my urine so I adjusted the temperature and we stepped in.

No sooner were we in the shower than Amy tiptoed up to give me another of her searing kisses. Then she grabbed the soap and rubbed it over my chest and back before reaching down to my cock and balls. Breaking the kiss, she bent forward to wash my legs and then it was my turn. Then we dried each other and dressed even though Amy's choices were limited to her small overnight bag. Instead of an elegant restaurant we went out for pizza and beer even though Amy laughingly complained that beer always made her fart. "Uh oh, sounds like the guest room for you tonight," I laughingly replied, as though that would ever happen.

Amy took another day off the following day so she could get her clothes and personal items while her dipshit father was at work. She was done by the time I returned from work by 8:00 p.m. We ate a light dinner and went straight to bed, falling asleep more than an hour later. The next day it was off to work early for both of us. By then I had given her a house key, garage remote, and the alarm code.

We continued like that for the next two months and in that time our relationship grew in many ways. We learned that we enjoyed the same activities, books, movies, and sports. Not only did we enjoy our time together, we treasured it. "I wonder if we'll feel the same way ten years from now when we have children," Amy asked one evening after another vigorous session of love-making.

"I think you might want to wait on that to see if I even ask you," was my reply.

Amy's hands flew to her face as she told me repeatedly how sorry she was for being so presumptuous. "Okay, then...what kind of wedding would you like?" it took several seconds for her to process what I had said, but suddenly she jumped onto my chest, both grinning wildly and crying tears of joy.

"Oh, Ronnie. I've been praying for this moment for so long. I don't want a big church wedding. Just march me up in front of a justice of the peace and then we can work on knocking me up. Is that okay?"

"Better than okay; it's perfect." Then I pulled her to me for another long tongue-laden kiss. A few minutes later I had her in the passenger seat of my Honda. "Where are we going, Ronnie?"

"Well, I assume you'd like a set of rings and maybe you'd like to pick one out for me. Hmmm, what do you think?"

"Oh, Ronnie...I'm so in love with you." She reached out to hold my hand as I drove to a jeweler friend I knew well from the Chamber of Commerce and Rotary. He greeted me warmly although he was surprised to see me so soon after what he called "Gail's tragic demise."

Then I set him straight and when I was done, he was speechless—eyes as big as quarters and his mouth open so wide, I was afraid he'd catch flies. "So, this is Gail's sister, Amy. She's nothing like her slut sister and it turns out she's been in love with me for years. So, close your mouth and do what you're supposed to do—sell us some rings."

Amy is a tiny pixie so she selected a small—but not tiny—ring of yellow gold and a 1.5 carat diamond. Our wedding bands were slender gold bands. Hers had a row of eight diamonds. Mine had three. I got a good discount, paid the bill with my credit card and walked my bride-to-be out to the car.

%%%%%%

I had asked Greg, a friend from the country club to stand with me and Amy asked her cousin Jennifer. I knew her, of course from my relationship with Gail. I also knew that Jennie would tell Amy's parents if she hadn't already. I didn't care and neither did Amy. We were married in a simple ceremony with a local magistrate at 10:43 on Friday morning—April 20^th. The weeks after April 15^th are still busy with late tax filings, but they're nowhere near the hectic pressure we feel as we approach the annual deadline. I could afford to take a day off. The honeymoon, however, would have to wait until June.

One thing I definitely wanted to do was to install a new lockset in the side door to the garage. The old one had been broken for years. I was almost done when a sedan drove up. I wasn't terribly surprised to see Lieutenant Bingham exit the car and walk my way. "I see you've already moved on, Mr. Masters. That's kind of suspicious. Makes me wonder."

"I'm sure it does, but I've known my wife, Amy, almost as long as I knew Gail. She's Gail's sister. When Gail showed her friends what she had done to me so she could control me for her big-dicked lover one Saturday afternoon, Amy was furious and called Gail out on it. She even gave Gail a terrific slap in the face before slamming the door on her way out. At the house after the funeral there was a heated discussion about Gail's behavior with her father who could never see anything negative about his first child. Perhaps I should also mention that he is also a horrendous racist. He thought I was hiding information about how Gail had died and he was right, but I did it to spare his feelings.