For Closure Ch. 01

"Take your silver spoon...dig your grave," one of the most prophetic lyrics ever spoken rolled from Stevie Nicks' lips and out the speakers of Leslie Carmen's portable stereo as she piddled around her kitchen listening to the oldies station one hot, June Saturday afternoon.

Considering the amount of money her Husband, Lyle, had literally inhaled over the past two decades on his Coke habit, it made Leslie want to spit on the pile of bills and past due notices weighing down a large portion of the desk to her right. Knowing where he kept his stash of nose candy down in his man-cave, Leslie was often tempted to go down there and flush it, but she knew he would just waste that much more of the family's already limited funds buying some more.

Stepping up to the sink so she could see her Husband and their two daughters lounging out by the backyard pool through the small kitchen window, Leslie sighed in a deep and bitter breath knowing her Husband's affinity for blow was sadly far from the most depressing thing going on in her life.

"Fiddling while Rome burns!!" she couldn't help but think as she watched Lyle sit half asleep in one of the beach chairs, a scotch on the rocks in his hand, looking like a sunburned reject from a Vegas mob movie under the withering midday Sun.

Under normal circumstances, the image Leslie could see out of her kitchen window would have made a perfect family picture postcard. Rich and successful Husband sitting completely content by his luxurious swimming pool, flanked by his two beautiful daughters as the Vegas skyline radiated off in the distance.

"Oh, if the people looking at that postcard only looked a little closer," Leslie cringed under her breath, rubbing the dish towel in her right hand anxiously across the edge of the sink even though there wasn't a drop of moisture there to pick up.

Lyle Carmen had made a great deal of money early on in their marriage through several business deals (some shady and some legit). Through the late 90's and 2000's he'd really dove headlong into the house-flipping craze and had made a killing. That was until the recession hit, and in Nevada it hit with super, extra ferocity right between the eyes.

To be frank, money had been so easy for Lyle to make, it had really stripped him of much of his work ethic, and add in several lawsuits several business partners had on him and the occasional inquiry from the IRS, and the family's financial reservoir was draining quickly. Add in one daughter in college and one getting ready to start, along with her Husband's drug habit, and it was no wonder the past year had played fits on Leslie's sanity.

A 19 year old waitress on the strip when she'd met Lyle, Leslie had every reason to believe she'd never have to work another day in her life when he married her. Now she had to bide her time between trying to run the household, raise her two girls and work full time as a shift manager at a buffet restaurant in town.

The job was a piss stream on an inferno when it came to catching up on the family's bills, but it did at least get Leslie out of the house, and her mind away from the deteriorating situation at home a couple of hours each day.

Leslie could live with her Husband's increasingly apathetic state. He was a grown man, 11 years her senior and even though they were still bonded together legally, she'd given up the ghost of living happily ever after. Going broke and having to move out of her house didn't frighten Leslie either. She'd grown up in a single parent home, and knew what it was like to have to struggle to make due, so unlike many lifelong affluent women in her spot, that element didn't scare her.

The one constant that kept Leslie Carmen focused on trying to make things work out were her two daughters. Unfortunately, the spoiled apathy they'd inherited from their Father was a much stronger pull than the common sense Leslie tried to preach.

Twenty-two year old Candace was sitting by the pool to Lyle's right as Leslie stared with dreary reflection out the window. The girl was also seven months pregnant and wouldn't be going back to UNLV in the Fall to finish her Senior year because of some of the choices she'd made.

To Lyle's left sat Courtney, who'd just turned 18. The typical entitled youngest daughter, Courtney was going to have to take the local junior college route if she wanted to go to a four year school. With several black marks on her juvenile record, Leslie really thought by the time the girl turned 18 and got a fresh start, things would be alright. Unfortunately, there was a natural rebellion that bled from the girl because the princess she'd been raised to be as a pre-teen struggled to find her niche in a world where Mom and Dad suddenly didn't have an endless checkbook to fund her vanity.

Being attractive and emotionally needy attracted a fair amount of attention in a town like Vegas, and Leslie lived in mortal fear that her two Daughters were going to self destruct before they really got a fair shot as adults. Candace was pregnant and Courtney had just gotten her second DUI since turning 18, forcing both to live at home. The Carmen house was already a powder keg, and with each passing day Leslie cowered, waiting for the final match to be struck. Little did she know that the knock on the front door that mercifully stirred her from that miserable, kitchen window daydream would be the flint.

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Tossing the dish towel she'd been using to absorb her nervous energy on the counter before turning to go and answer the door, Leslie racked her brain trying to figure out who it might be.

"It's Saturday, so it better not be a bill collector," she snapped to herself as she made her way through the living room.

It most likely wasn't one of her neighbors either given the fact that most of the people Leslie had grown close to on the block had already moved for the same reasons the Carmen's were on the verge of.

"Maybe it's one of the girls' friends," was Leslie's next guess but she didn't see any visiting cars parked in the driveway.

Stealing the obligatory peek through the peephole, the man waiting outside was turned away from her, preventing Leslie from seeing his face. Against her better judgment, she opened the door and when the gentleman turned to face her, five years worth of intentionally submerged memories came flooding back.

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Like most couples approaching their second full decade together, things had gotten a little stale and monotonous between Lyle and Leslie. Unlike most couples however, they eventually came to an agreement to introduce a third party into their marriage to spice things up.

Bi-curious was probably too strong of a term to describe Leslie, but she willingly went along with their long talked about plan to satisfy one of Lyle's fantasies and bring a girl in for a threesome. Having agreed on a female escort during a weekend trip to Phoenix with the kids back home at their grandparents, Leslie had been successful enough detaching herself emotionally from the events to enjoy the physical interaction for several hard earned, yet hearty orgasms. It helped knowing they were hours from home and they'd never see the girl again, and the evening did truly seem to invigorate their intimacy for months afterwards. So much in fact that Lyle agreed that what was fair was fair and broached the subject of allowing Leslie to satisfy her curiosity of having two men at once.

Sadly, that second interlude didn't go nearly as smoothly as the first.

For one thing, Leslie wasn't totally gung-ho going through with 'her treat', in fact there were a couple of times she almost decided to call the thing off. It was at Lyle's insistence, and her own re-kindled hormones that inevitably pushed her to do it.

It might be he last time she'd ever had sex with a man besides her Husband, she reasoned, and after several sessions of internet searches, they stumbled across a young man living in Reno who was doing some modeling work, among a few other things on the side.

The Carmens made the trip upstate a few weeks later and met the gentleman at a club. After a few drinks to get comfortable, the trio made their way back to the hotel suite Lyle had reserved. Part of the 'deal' was the young man promised Lyle he'd bring some prime coke for the meeting, and he'd delivered quite nicely on that stipulation.

The blow only intensified the young stud's virility, but the cocaine combined with the bottle of scotch Lyle downed that night to gird himself for what was to come made him as mean as a snake.

Everything had initially seemed fine, even when the three were making their way up to the room in the elevator. Lyle had taken a hit of the coke back in club's bathroom just to make sure it was good and was in reasonably good spirits. It wasn't until the trio was alone in the room, and the booze really hit Lyle's system, that the vibe started to change. Lyle, and the young man who's name was Chase, shared another line or two on the desk before the older man took a seat in the corner of the room and the rent-a-stud made his move on Leslie.

>From the second Chase laid his hands on her, it was clear this wasn't his first time in such a situation. Their lips coming together, cautiously at first, then increasingly tight, Leslie gradually focused her full attention on the stranger embracing her. Unable now to muster the will to make eye contact with her Husband, she could somehow still feel the temperature of his gaze change as he stared on from his seat.

Perhaps it was the absence of the sound of ice jingling in his glass or the steady evaporation of Lyle's occasional commentary, but by the time Chase began undressing her, Leslie had nearly forgotten her Husband was even in the room.

What Leslie did feel was a billion tiny goose bumps rise along the column of her spine as her clothes fell to the floor around her. It was all happening in such a slow motion haze, Leslie didn't really have the wherewithal to even process the fact she was standing in nothing but her bra and panties with a man she'd met barely an hour before as her Husband looked on just a few feet away.

By the time the stranger slipped the fingers of his left hand beneath the lacy and moist lining of her panties and began scouring them across the freshly shaven rim of her swollen quim, she'd lost pretty much every tether to reality. By the time Chase dipped the fingers of his right into each of her bra cups and freed her two fleshy orbs as he hungrily swirled his lips and tongue up and down both sides of her neck, all Leslie could do was clutch her hands around his back to keep from crumpling to her knees.

None of this was lost on Lyle Carmen as he folded his right leg over his left and gripped tighter at the glass in his hands. When they'd had the threesome with the girl back in Phoenix, Lyle freely wallowed in the joy of being in bed with two beautiful women at once. The fact that one of them was his very own Wife, who'd opened herself up to something so risqué made the rendezvous that much sweeter. He'd even stayed sober that night just so he could commit ever detail of the get-together to memory.

Lyle found allowing another man to have relations with Leslie not quite as easy to digest. In the back of his mind, he'd envisioned another menage-a-trois scenario, but as soon as Chase faced up with Leslie, it was clear the gigolo had marked his territory for the evening, leaving Lyle on the sideline with nothing to do but watch as he soaked in the numbing concoction of cocaine and alcohol polluting his already bitter system.

Granted, he had no one else to blame for opening this can of worms, but it still didn't make it any easier to watch the young man, one for all intents he'd recruited, freely and eagerly roam his hands over Leslie's nearly naked body. Lyle was sitting close enough to hear the moisture of his Wife's pussy billow from her crotch each time Chase spun his fingers through it. He was also close enough to feel the gush of air that left Leslie's lungs the instant Chase squeezed his right hand, without a qualm of hesitation, around her fleshy left breast.

Lyle descended deeper into disgust when he looked down and saw his cock straining upwards inside his pants, as if it was some sort of awakened animal struggling to free itself so it too could see what was going on in the center of the room. Shifting embarrassingly to the side to keep the bulge from being visible, helpless anger burned in Lyle's eyes, and he had to quell the urge to throw the glass in his hand at the now intertwined couple standing above him.

"They don't even know I'm here," Lyle sensed with raw certainty, having to turn his eyes away from the action when he saw the way his wife's knees buckled as she clenched tightly to the man they'd driven to Reno to meet.

Chase's pace was relentless, and by the time Lyle finally twisted his pained gaze back forward, the pair had moved up to the edge of the bed. He could see Leslie's panties were now in a bunched roll down at her ankles and the young stud had worked the front hooks of her bra free until the straps dangled from her golden tan shoulders.

Lyle literally pressed the weight of the glass in his hands down on his erection and bit his tongue when he watched Chase part his lips and take a good bit of Leslie's left tit into his mouth. The wincing wail that leaked from his Wife's throat nearly sent Lyle into convulsions.

"Just throw her down on the bed, fuck her and be done with it," Lyle angrily crooned in his head, but Chase's next move further consumed the older man with impotent rage.

Instead of easing the married woman down on her back and mounting her right then and there, Chase dropped to his knees, still mostly dressed mind you, and pressed his lips down just above the spot Leslie Carmen's clitoris beamed and sizzled with life.

With Chase kneeling at his Wife's feet, Lyle got a clear look at Leslie's face, and even though the two had been married for nearly 20 years at the time, there was a woman standing before him he barely recognized. While Leslie's eyes were trained in his direction, the spirit behind them was in a far away place as Chase slithered his tongue lower and clamped his mouth down on her sweltering slit.

Lyle recoiled in his seat seeing the explosive jolt of joy spread across his Wife's face just before a visceral yelp bled from her throat and ricocheted through the room. Watching Leslie's fingers dig through the stranger's hair as he knelt at her feet, Lyle fidgeted and shifted once again in the chair as a droplet of pre-cum seeped from the shameful erection inside his pants.

Downing the rest of his scotch as Chase began ripping down the buttons of his own shirt, Lyle's could hear the echo of the youngster's tongue darting through the aroused folds of Leslie's cunt as he worked his shirt over his shoulders. Lyle wished he'd brought the bottle of scotch over to his seat when he was forced to hear Leslie's wails rise the instant Chase began spinning his tongue around her bulging clit.

Lyle quickly appreciated why he hadn't undressed himself and joined in the fun on the bed when he saw how powerfully built and exquisitely sculpted the 21-year-old's chest and back were once Chase had tossed his shirt aside.

Hearing the sounds of Chase undoing his belt as he continued to devour Leslie's dripping pussy a few feet away, Lyle pressed his face flush into his palm as the glass rested on the uneven contours of his lap. The married man knew exactly what was coming next.

Watching Chase pull his face from between Leslie's thighs and slowly stand up, if Lyle thought comparing his own middle aged physique to the younger man's was problematic, Lyle's heart sunk all the way to the pit of his stomach when he saw Chase slide his underwear down, allowing his majestic cock to swing free. He remembered the stranger making an offhand comment about his endowment when they were discussing things back and forth online to set up the meeting, but Lyle just assumed it was the same bravado and bluster a lot of men tossed around on the internet. Seeing it for himself, Lyle knew he wasn't anywhere close to measuring up.

And Mr. Carmen wasn't the only one in the room to take note when Chase unsheathed his manhood. Pushing Leslie backwards before helping her down on the bed, a grinning sneer spread across the youngster's face seeing the glassy look of sheer admiration in the older woman's eyes as the thing bobbed with life right in front of her.

All the life went out of Lyle's eyes, however, when he saw the hypnotic way Leslie raised her right hand and reached for the stud's immense shaft, struggling to get her fingers around the thickest part as Chase nudged his hips forward to press the golf-ball-sized head right up to her welcoming lips.

For the next five minutes, Lyle was forced to watch as his Wife, cautiously at first, then with increasingly blunt eagerness, lavish the kid's cock with everything she had. Seeing the corners of his Wife's cheeks puffed obscenely out as she struggled to accommodate Chase's virile girth, Lyle glared with a sickening mixture of horror and fascination as the two carried on as if he wasn't even there.

By the time Chase eased his now glistening prick from Leslie's lips and forced her down flat on her back on the crisply made bed, Lyle had pretty much re-signed himself to his fate. Watching Chase collapse down on top of Leslie until all he could see were his Wife's arms and legs flailing out to each side, Lyle had a front row seat to witness Chase take his dick in his hand and nonchalantly shove it deep into the achingly swollen crevice that up until that moment, no man other than him had enjoyed for almost 20 years.

Closing his eyes at the moment of penetration did no good as he was forced to listen to the wincing cries of being so thoroughly filled erupting from Leslie's throat. When his eyelids flipped open, Lyle was confronted with the image of his Wife's legs wrapped tight around Chase's back, her ankles locked as she franticly pulled him down on top of her. Narrowing his focus even more, Lyle could also see the straining pink oval of Leslie's gouged cunt stretched to the max as Chase's marauding cock dredged ever deeper.

The blood pumping so briskly through his ravaged mind, Lyle didn't even register the vibration of the bed beneath the copulating pair until it simply became too loud to ignore.

Again, Lyle gritted his teeth hoping the stranger would hurry up and finish Leslie off, do his business, then go so his self imposed nightmare would be over. Seemingly growing stronger with each hammering lurch forward, Chase grabbed Leslie by the wrists and held her arms flat out to each side of her head as he slammed his pelvic bone down like a mallet on top of her's.

Eventually turning Leslie over on her left side without slowing his blistering pace, Chase loved the obscene way the older woman's breasts flopped wildly each time he connected with another punishing thrust.

His back turned the entire time towards Lyle, the older man literally felt invisible as Chase had his way with his Wife. After a grueling sessions of fucking Leslie on her side, Chase mercifully pulled back and allowed her to catch her breath for a few seconds before flipping her on her belly then positioning her up on her hands and knees.

By then, the two had been going at it for nearly a half hour straight, but Lyle looked as drained and fatigued sitting off to the side as the two sweating souls did on the bed. Even though his body was now limp, fiery deceit still burned in his eyes as he watched Chase prop Leslie up just right on the center of the bed before feeding the head of his mammoth shaft between the cheeks of her raised ass. That fire only intensified when Lyle saw his Wife rock her read end backwards in a primal attempt to fill herself once again with the stranger's blessed gift.