Soul Sucker Ch. 21-30

John Miller's POV

Newark, New Jersey

Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 2022

I turned onto the dead-end street and stopped in front of the house that Mary pointed to. It was an older home in a neighborhood that had seen better days. It looked like a single-story bungalow, probably a hundred years old. A full second floor and a bump-out on one side looked like later additions. The siding was white with green trim on the windows that was peeling in places. The yard had seen better days, and Mary had explained her parents couldn't keep up with maintenance after Dad's back injury.

Heather was out the door with her backpack when I put Mary's car into park. She ran through the gate and flew up the porch steps to the front door. I went around the front of the Lexus sedan and opened her door. The car was part of her image as a retailer and was a big chunk of her expenses, but it drove like a dream. I held out my hand to help her up before she leaned into me. "Ready for this?"

"Nothing is going to change my mind," I said as I kissed her quickly. I could hear Heather talking a mile a minute to her grandparents at the front door while I got the food out of the back seat.

Mary grabbed the bag with the wine, holding my arm as we walked into her childhood home. I set my food box on a table as Mary hugged her parents. Stepping back, she took my hand. "Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, John Miller," Mary said with a smile. She set her bag down on a side table. "John, this is my father, Frank, and my mother, Anita."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said as I extended my hand. Frank was tall and thin with the bearing of a US Marine despite the cane and the difficulty moving.

His grip exceeded mine as he sized me up. "Welcome to our home, John. We've heard a lot about you. Some of it was even from Mary."

Anita smacked his arm and moved past her husband, embracing me in a hug. She was Mary with greying hair, still striking in her early sixties. "All good things," she told me. "Heather won't stop talking about you, but we'll get all the details later. Grab that stuff and bring it to the kitchen, please." I followed the women through the older house, my mind taking in the hardwood floors and clear pine moldings. Photographs and decorations abounded, including a large photo of Mary and her late husband at his commissioning ceremony. The kitchen was old-fashioned but functional, and some food was on the table with its fall decorations. "You didn't have to bring the wine, but thank you," Anita said as she set the bottles in the fridge.

"One bottle is grape juice," I mentioned. "There's a chardonnay the owner recommended with turkey plus a white zinfandel that Mary likes."

"It will be a nice change to break out the wine glasses. It's all I can do some years to get Frank to pour his beer into a glass," she teased him. "Go sit in the living room with him while we talk about you and make dinner."

Heather came down the stairs with her gi over her T-shirt and jeans, held closed by her white belt. Mary was enjoying the workouts, while Heather LOVED them. She was getting better quickly, though she needed five more months as a beginner before advancing to a gray belt. "Grandma! Look!" She spun around quickly at the door to the kitchen.

"You look good, Heather. No rough-housing in the living room," Anita warned.

"Stretching and calisthenics then," I told my young apprentice. "Let's show your Grandpa how much you've learned."

Heather kept us busy with talk of school and martial arts, so there wasn't time for a deep conversation. After her daily exercises, I moved to the ground so Heather could demonstrate some of the holds and grapples she'd learned. Frank was watching the interaction between us closely, plus making sure we didn't get in trouble for wrestling on the floor. "John fights Mixed Martial Arts and has a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu," she bragged. "I got to watch his fight last weekend in New York!"

"Are you any good?"

"I'm all right for a guy in my forties, but recovery takes longer now," I answered.

"I was a decent lightweight boxer in the Corps," Frank said. "Fighting is a young man's sport."

Heather got called to the kitchen to help set the table, giving me my chance. "I suppose it's been a while since Mary brought a man to meet her parents," I said.

"You're the second," he told me. "I know I'm overly protective. My wife had complications during Mary's childbirth, and we couldn't have more children. I want her to be happy."

"So do I," I said. "I'm taking things slow, and Heather has to be all right with us too. Nothing is simple, is it?"

"Nothing worth a damn is easy," he nodded. "Mary's happy; a blind man could see that. Keep her that way, and we'll be fine."

Mary poked her head in and told us to wash up. I sat in the center with her parents on the other side. The table setting was Anita's fine china and crystal, which she told me only came out twice a year. Frank led the prayer, then carved pieces of turkey for us. I filled my plate with homemade stuffing and all the fixings and relaxed, enjoying the holiday and learning about my girls.

An hour later, I was stuffed and drowsy. "Go watch the game or something," Anita said as she stood up. I tried to help out, but Anita drafted Mary and Heather instead. "You're my guest, and guests don't help out," she told me.

I retreated to the living room. Frank had the Bills-Lions game on. "I suppose you're a damn Patriots fan," he said.

"Goes with the upbringing. Bruins and Red Sox, too," I replied. "I don't care about the NBA."

"And just when I was starting to like you." I already knew he was a Jets fan.

"At least we both are rooting for the Bills to lose." It didn't work that way, with the Bills kicking a field goal to win at the end. We had Anita's homemade pumpkin pie for dessert before the girls headed out on a walk. As soon as the front door closed, Frank pounced. "Are you sleeping with my daughter?"

"She's an adult, and what she does is her business," I deflected. "Our private affairs are just that. Private."

"Sounds like you want to," he growled.

"Have you looked at her? Smoking hot, a younger version of her mother. Of COURSE, I want to sleep with her." That got him to laugh. "Both of us have warning signs and land mines for a relationship. I'm taking my time so I don't screw it up."

"You're divorced, right?" I nodded. "What did you learn from that?"

"I learned I had to get my act together before I could be in a relationship again," I replied. "I can't blame my wife. I was a cop before I was her husband. I was an alcoholic and mean, and I attacked her instead of looking at myself. I didn't think I was ready for a relationship again when I met Mary."

"What changed your mind?"

"Heather." He raised an eyebrow. "She's a great kid, thanks to her Mom. I recognized Mary as more than just a girlfriend. I started thinking about having a family and what I needed to do to be a husband and a father. Instead of the commitment scaring me, I realized I wanted to be that man. I have a chance to be happy." I looked him in the eye. "I'm terrified I'll screw it up. That's why I'm letting those two set the pace."

He looked at me for a bit. "I believe you," he said. "Mary's had a tough time moving on with her life. I can see you two will be good together." He tapped my shoulder with his fist. "If you need us to take Heather so you can have time alone, we'll take her."

"I appreciate that," I told him. "I don't think Heather is ready for the madness of a Miller family holiday."

We had to leave in the first quarter of the Giants-Cowboys game. Heather and Anita both gave me big hugs. "Good luck on the next leg of your tour," Anita teased.

It was a three-hour drive from New Jersey north to our family farm outside Granby, Massachusetts.

Chapter 22

John Miller's POV

Newark, New Jersey

Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 2022

Mary and I filled each other in on what happened with her parents while we headed north. "Mom likes you," she told me. "She thinks you are a nice guy, but what won her over was how you are with Heather. She told me that a man who makes my daughter as much a priority as me is a keeper."

"She's not wrong," I teased. "I wasn't worried about your Mom."

"How was my Dad?"

"We reached an understanding," I replied hesitantly. We were past the heavy New York traffic by the time we got done talking about it. "I think he understands that our relationship is our business now," I said as the traffic thinned out.

"I appreciate you setting the boundaries early. How much longer to your parent's place?"

"Ninety minutes, maybe more with traffic," I replied. "Why? What do you like to do on road trips?"

Her left hand moved up my leg, bumping into my cock. She lightly traced the outlines with her finger. "When I was a kid, Mom and I would sing. Boredom isn't the problem, John. I'm so fucking horny right now," she confessed. "When we arrive, it's going to be chaos. The house will be full of people."

"And we'll be lucky to steal a kiss in a closet," I told her. Her fingers squeezed the head. "You need some relief, baby?"

"I'm desperate, John. Can we pull over somewhere? Have a quickie?"

I just smiled. "No time for that. Reach under the seat and pull out the bag." She found it and pulled the shopping bag out. On top was a towel; she looked at me quizzically. "I knew you'd be on edge, so I prepared a surprise. Place the towel on the seat, then sit down with your skirt hiked to your waist and your panties down to your ankles."

Her jaw dropped, and she looked around in panic. "JOHN! People will see!"

"Do you trust me?" She nodded. "Take the rest out." At the bottom was a bulbous pink device with a small tail and a small packet of lube. "Get set up, then put the big part inside with the tail in front. You can pull some of the towel into your lap once ready."

She looked around and saw no one was near us. "Don't let anyone see me." She unbuckled, set the towel down, hiked her skirt, and inserted the Bluetooth-enabled vibrator. I reached over, powered it up, then connected it to my phone app while ensuring nothing showed. She twitched as it fired up on a low buzz. "Now what?"

"Now we crank the tunes and sing along," I replied with a grin. I found a music station on Sirius that was playing 'Slow Ride' and cranked it up.

"Holy shit!" Mary almost launched herself out of her seat when the sound-following feature of the app kicked in. The louder the music, the stronger the buzz. It was one powerful vibrator!

Mary screamed through her first orgasm, followed thirty seconds later by another as I sang along. Two songs and four orgasms later, she was telling me it was too much. When I refused, Mary upped the ante. Leaning over the center console, she unzipped my fly and took my hard cock out, stroking it to hardness. "Are you sure?"

I looked down at her, and I wanted her so badly. "You could convince me."

"I can't be the only one getting off before we get there," she said. "Put the cruise control on and pay attention."

Five minutes later, I was singing along to "Rock Me Amadeus" with the radio cranked high and my cock buried in her throat. She'd just vacuumed me clean when I looked in the mirror and saw the flashing lights coming up fast. "Shit," I said. "State Trooper. Put me away and straighten yourself out!"

By the time I pulled onto the shoulder and stopped, Mary and I had dressed again, though the car smelled strongly of sex. I rolled all windows down, but it might not be enough. A second trooper stopped behind me, and I watched the two in the mirrors as they checked the car. I had my license and her registration out, along with my permit. "Officers, I'm retired law enforcement and carrying," I told them.

"Keep your hands in sight, sir. Where is the firearm?"

"Back of right hip," I replied.

"Step out of the car, please." He had me keep my hands on the car as the other trooper called in my license and permit. As a retired cop, I could carry anywhere in the United States. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"I might have been weaving."

"We thought you were drunk, but you're busy getting road head," he told me. "I saw her bobbing, you've got spit all over your khakis, and the car smells like pussy."

"You're right. It wasn't a good idea."

He shook his head. "Distracted driving is as dangerous as drunk driving, and I can't let that slide. Not even for a cop." Everything checked out, and he handed me the ticket for distracted driving and returned to his cruiser.

I waited for them to pull out before I started her car again. "That was the most expensive blowjob ever," I said as we pulled back into traffic. "Two hundred dollar fine. It could have been worse, though."

"You going to pay it?"

"Hell yeah. Then I'm framing this ticket and putting it on the wall of my man cave! Or maybe the office!"

I handed it to her, and she paled as she read the accurate description of the offense. "Oh my GOD, John! You can't do that! Everyone will know it was me!"

"Then I'll keep it in our bedroom, baby."

The rest of the drive was boring compared to that. It wasn't far north of Springfield and south of the Mount Holyoke Range. My parents moved there after my grandmother died of cancer, back when I was in fifth grade. They'd had to sell parts of the farm along the way, but the big farmhouse was unchanged as I drove up the driveway.

There were at least twenty cars in the driveway. I had a big Irish-Catholic family, with eight brothers and sisters, plus our aunts, uncles, and cousins. "I'll apologize in advance for the utter chaos I'm delivering you to," I said as we parked. "If it gets to be too much, let me know."

"I'll send up a flare," she promised. A sea of relatives surrounded the car before I could open her door. I made introductions, thinking she'd be lucky to remember a third of them by the time we got inside. Everyone was excited to meet Mary, the first woman I'd dated seriously since my divorce.

They'd eaten the big meal already, but there were snacks on the table and coolers of beer and cokes underneath. I introduced Mary to my parents, and my Mom hugged her. I was talking with my father and grandfather for a minute, and when I turned around, Mary was gone. "The ladies dragged her to the kitchen to interrogate her," my Grandfather told me. "She'll be fine. Grab a Coke and watch the Patriots with me."

"Sure, Pops."

I tried to check on Mary during the game, but she shooed me off. "I'm learning all kinds of things about you," she said with a smile.

Naturally, the Patriots choked. They were getting the ball back before a stupid running into the punter penalty kept the Vikings alive on the winning drive. Mary finally returned to me for the last few minutes of the game and reminded me that life was more than football.

I waggled my eyebrows. "Bedtime fun?"

"We've been assigned an inflatable Queen bed in the basement," Mary replied. "We're sharing the room with four other people, and there's already a line for the shower." Mom was cock-blocking me! "No wedding ring, no private bedroom," Mary said in a decent imitation of Mom's voice.

"We'll figure something out. I might have to gag you," I whispered.

I never did. I woke up at five and rolled off the blow-up bed. Mary didn't wake up, so I left her and went to the bathroom to get dressed. It didn't matter that it was a holiday weekend on a farm; people were up already, and the coffee pot was ready to go. I grabbed a cup and walked onto the back deck, finding Grandpa sitting in a chair, looking at the mountains. "Morning Pops," I told him as I sat down.

We chatted about the weather before he asked if I had any new stories. He always loved to hear my cop stories when I was on the job. "You know I'm an insurance investigator now? It's not like I'm still in Homicide."

"You always found a way to get in the shit, no matter what job you had," he said with a laugh.

I started telling him about the pattern of deaths and the potential Black Widow, or multiple Black Widows, that might be out there. "I can't prove a damn thing, Pops. I even went to meet one of the widows. She looked beautiful, but when I touched her? She creeped me the hell out."

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "You know how sometimes you touch someone and get a feeling in your gut? Most times, it isn't much. When I shook Jordyn Carter's hand, there was this coldness and evil about her I've never felt before."

"You sense whether people are good or bad when you touch them?"

I nodded. "Doesn't everyone?"

"No, they don't. Is your feeling accurate?"

"So far. It took me a while to trust it, but with practice, it got better. It's not admissible in court, but it's guided a few of my investigations."

"This feeling you felt with the Carter woman. Did it make you shiver?"

"Yeah. My instincts told me to run away, but I felt this pull at the same time." I took a sip of coffee then looked at him. "How do you know the feeling?"

"I've only heard the stories. None of my grandfather's children or their children inherited his gift. We all thought it died with him, but your story tells me I'm wrong. There is another in the family now."

"Another what, Pops?"

"Your great-great grandfather was a Demon Hunter."

Chapter 23

Ingrid Anderson (Frances Dortmund's) POV

Chiapa de Corzo, Mexico

Friday, November 25, 2022

"You're going to be the death of me, Ingrid."

I just smiled at the man lying under me in the ornate bed. He'd given up his seed to me seven times today, and he wasn't a one-pump chump. He made me work for it. "Can you think of a better way to go?" I squeezed my sex around his softening cock, taking the last of it deep inside. I collapsed onto him, my head tucked under his chin as his hands ran down my back.

The breeze from the ceiling fan helped cool us down after our latest romp. Landon Street was a man, after all. Men think with their dicks, and are putty in the trained hands of a Succubus. We'd been dating exclusively since that first dinner, and he'd never been happier.

A few minutes later, his manhood popped out, and I started to leak our combined juices onto him. I squeezed to expel the rest, then moved down his body to clean up. Landon found it highly erotic to have me clean him like this and often got hard again during my oral attention. I didn't try for another round because I was getting hungry.

I couldn't fuck him to death until AFTER we were married, after all.

"I'll be in the shower," I told him as I finished. I rolled off the bed, my ass swaying as he watched me go to the bathroom door. The private villa he'd rented was well-appointed and luxurious, full of art and tapestries. I walked past the long double vanity and soaking tub to the limestone and glass walk-in shower.

The rain nozzle quickly rinsed the sweat off my lean body as I thought about the trip so far. Landon wanted to surprise me with a trip together while his exchange was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday. He told me to dress for the tropics and bring my climbing gear. We arrived at the airport near this small town in southern Mexico yesterday afternoon. I fell in love with the history and culture right away. We'd done some shopping and sightseeing this morning, returning to the villa for meals.

I felt the door open as I washed my hair and smiled. I knew Landon couldn't stay away. "Get my back," I asked him.

"Only if I can get your front as well," he replied. I moaned in pleasure as he rubbed and massaged my body, coming once on his hand at the end. I tried to suck him to hardness as I returned the favor, but Junior wasn't coming out to play. "I think you wore him out."

"There's always tomorrow," I said as we rinsed off. Landon said we had an early start in the morning with a five-thirty breakfast. I woke him at five-fifteen with a Succubus Special blowjob, then we dressed in climbing gear and ate.