All in the Family (4 page)

She took a deep breath and held it as she sauntered past the front bumper of the car, carrying the bag low, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She focused on the click of her heels on the pavement. Then, the siren whined and the lights flashed, only for a moment. She stopped.

“Excuse me, young lady,” he said out the side window. She looked up and smiled at him, trying to look surprised.

“Yes, officer, did I do something wrong?” She couldn’t help but to add a flirty tone to her voice. He just brought that out in her.

“Oh, yes ma’am. I believe it is against the law to look that good while you walk down the street. I’m going to have to take you back to my place for questioning.” A broad smile came across his face. His large white teeth gleamed in the sunlight and though his oversized shades blocked that sunlight from his eyes, she remembered his eyes. They were dark and mysterious eyes. The kind a woman could get lost in forever.

“Why, sir, I do hope that you could find it in your heart to let poor little ‘ole me go? Perhaps arrest me another time?” She added a southern accent to her voice, trying to entice the cop and trying to politely inform him that she needed to leave. She needed to, but her feet did not want to go. They stayed firmly planted next to the driver’s door.

She heard the door latch click, and she stepped back. He climbed out. He removed his sunglasses and eyed the bag in her hand.

“Been shoppin’ at
our
store I see,” he said, fingering the handle of the bag, making extra sure to brush her fingers with his as he moved. The way he said
our
store, made it sound special. “Maybe
we
are going to have to go
shoppin
’ again soon.”

An ardent smile curled her lips. She couldn’t help it. “We should.”

“What ‘bout now? Where are you headed?” He asked and looked down at her intently. She was tall for a woman, but he was so much taller, like Herman, but well built and muscular.

“Well,” she tried to look down and cover her smile with her free hand, “I’m on my way home. I’m not sure if my husband is home or not.”

“Shall we find out?”

She looked up, broad grin revealing her pearly whites. “Yes, please.”

It was there, just as she had feared; the hearse. She just knew he would be at home. Something deep in her gut told her that he would be home, but where was Frank’s car? If Frank was not here, there was no need for Herman to still be at home. She had always admired Frank and his headstrong personality. They were nearly identical, so he still lacked in looks, but what he lacked in looks he made up for in quick wit and stamina. That man could argue with a god and win. His driving spirit had once made her wonder if she had chosen the wrong brother by mistake. Herman was a good man, just content to stay at his dead end career and never willing to sacrifice anything for his family.

She looked at the man beside her; she then glanced at his name tag. She had never caught his name before this. Glenn Riverstone. She held up a finger and climbed out of the passenger’s side, careful not to bump his shotgun that stood in its holder. She left her bag on the floor.

She walked as quickly as possible in heels up the stone walkway to the door. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Herman looked up; he had been in a neurotic daze for far longer than he realized. The door had opened. Then he heard it, Loretta’s voice calling his name. God, he couldn’t let her see this. This would push both of them over the edge. He rose quickly and ascended the stairs, taking care to skip the ones that he knew would squeak.

He heard her footsteps coming closer now. He put an ear to the door. Click, click, click, click. Her footsteps were hurried. Now she stood right outside the basement door, still calling his name. He reached up and with a quick and silent flick locked the door.

Just in time, too. The knob turned just as he locked it. He heard her fiddle with the knob a moment and then give up. She walked away, even more quickly. Click, click, click, click. Her heels resounded against the wood floor. Then, the front door opened, and he heard her call out, but couldn’t make out what she said.

“Come on, and don’t forget my bag!” She called out to Glenn. She could only assume that Herman and his brother had gone on some grand adventure. Obviously it would have been Frank’s idea to leave the house, as Herman never wanted to go anywhere except to work.

Glenn met her at the door. “Are you sure he’s not home? What about the hearse in the driveway?” He eyeballed the black, beastly looking body mover.

“I think he’s with his brother, and yes, he is the local mortician.”

Glenn rolled his eyes and then focused on her. She grabbed his hand and led him quickly inside. She walked hastily, almost pulling him along, and took him to the bedroom and shut the door.

Inside, she playfully snatched her bag from him. She remembered the banter that he had enjoyed so much their first time. From the bag she retrieved an oversized, clear plastic case. Inside lay a vividly detailed fourteen inch, black, fake cock with a suction cup at its base just above the wrinkled scrotum. She looked up and down its massive length and then smiled at Glenn. He looked at them both and returned her smile.

He took the package from her and removed the dildo. He then looked at her and stuck the suction cup to the wall next to the bed. Surprisingly, it stayed. It looked as if some circus freak of a man was trapped behind the wall with only his oversized penis hanging through a hole.

“I want you on that before you get on me,” he said with a determined look and a sly smile.

She hefted her skirt and bent over and slowly backed herself onto it.

* * * *

Herman listened at the door. There had been two sets of footsteps and a door closed down the hall. He had the sledge in hand now. Was Loretta in some kind of trouble? Did she need his help?

He silently unlocked and opened the door. Creeping down the hallway, he could see that his bedroom door stood closed. He felt heavy in his stomach. Surely she wasn’t. He stopped outside the door.

* * * *

They were on the bed by now, both of them completely naked. Glenn kissed her lips and worked his way to her nipples. They became stiff and rigid under his tongue. His mouth felt so good. He worked his way down her smooth, flat stomach.

It hit her then, she had just had sex. She gripped his head, trying to stop him, but he wiggled free.
What the hell?
She thought.
Whatever he wants to do.
He went down on her. His tongue probing her and the thrill of knowing what she knew sent shock waves over her body. He obviously had no care or could not tell.

He lifted his head, only for a moment. “You taste so good, baby.” Then he dived back in, his tongue probing her slit. She smiled and stared at the ceiling.

It is official, Loretta Adams,
she thought.
You are now a certified whore, a dirty, dirty whore, but Goddamn it feels good.

* * * *

Herman stood outside the door, sledge in hand. His right hand, right arm and most of his front torso were covered in blood spatter. He even had blood spatter marks on his face and clothes. His hand quivered. What would he do if she was? Would he burst through the door sledge held high and kill the man? Would he kill Loretta? Lord, he couldn’t do that, no matter what, she was his life.

Enough waiting, he decided, he had to see. Silently he turned the knob and cracked open the door. The room was well lit inside, and he could hear the heavy breaths coming from two people. On the far wall, something protruded. What the hell was that? A huge cock? How could he ever compete with that?

He opened the door a little more and saw his bed. On it, a man knelt behind his wife.
He was really giving it to her,
Herman thought. He heard her moaning and the man grunting. She never sounded like that for him.

His hand began to shake. He gripped the sledge tightly. He envisioned himself, a madman, running across the room and shattering the skull of the man, driving the sledge home, hard. In his mind, he saw the look of horror and terror on her face. He couldn’t do that to her, not yet.

He watched for a while longer and then closed the door.

In the basement, he laughed quietly to himself as he rocked back and forth before his brother’s corpse. He sat cross legged with the sledge in front of him, between himself and the body. He rocked and laughed as tears streamed down his cheeks. He cried and laughed and banged his head on the table; quite a racket. Loretta might have heard if she wasn’t in the throes of yet another climax.

On this day, Herman Adams lost his mind.

Chapter Three

Lunch was over, and Jessica Adams was going to be late returning to class. Not because she was still eating or because she was in the restroom, but because she had been out at her boyfriend’s car. However, she wasn’t doing what one might have thought. If he had his way, she would have been doing that three months ago, but she was strong willed. She was beginning to think that he would fuck anything that had legs, but she really wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She hurried along, hearing the bell go off just as she entered the rear double doors. The halls were empty now, except for her. Her ass wiggled from side to side in her mini skirt as she walked. She held her books to her chest, smashing her pert breasts. She thought about what he had said to her. It was almost an insult. She may have dressed like a whore, but she wasn’t a whore.

* * * *

He looked at her, eyed her like he always did. She glanced at him as she shoved a fry in her mouth. He had brought her a cheeseburger and fries as usual, but he really wanted something in return. He continued to stare.

“What?” She asked between chews.

“Nothing,” he replied. He ran his fingers though her long streaked hair; a mix of blonde and caramel brunette. She looked at him. He smiled kindly, but she could still see lust in his eyes.

“How long have we been seeing each other now?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “About six months I suppose. Why?” She put down her food and turned toward him in her seat.

He ran a hand through his styled hair and laid his head back, taking a deep sigh. “I was just thinking about it. I was kind of hoping for more.”

“More?”

“Yeah, more; you know.” He pointed toward his crotch.

She sat her food on the dash and leaned in toward him, her hand on his thigh. “You mean you want more than this?” She caressed his crotch; he began to stiffen in her hand.

She jumped back suddenly and sat rigid. A teacher walked by, his head barely visible above the truck’s hood. He glanced over at the two, smiled and waved. She smiled and waved back, and the teacher kept going.

The moment he left their sight, she jumped back into position, just where she left off. She licked his neck and nibbled his ear. He closed his eyes and enjoyed.

“You want more than this?” She licked his neck some more and then unzipped his pants. She took him into her mouth. She worked him like usual; he wasn’t hard to get off. A few minutes later, she swallowed a thick mass of man-seed. It was warm and almost too salty.

He sat breathing heavily then put away his penis and turned to her. “Jessica, I love you. I need more.”

She looked at him, surprised by his outburst.

“I love what you do to me, but I’m a man, I need more.” He was a man, if you really could consider him that. He had been on his own since sixteen and was now only nineteen. He made a living flipping burgers at the same place her food came from, a pretty dead end guy according to her mother.

“I’ve told you, Ray, I’m saving it for the man I marry.”

“Then marry me!” He moved in to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled back.

“I can’t marry you; my parents would never allow it.”

He looked at her, frustration growing. He knew that throwing out an ultimatum might scare her into it. “Marry me or I’m going to have to find someone else.”

She slapped his face, hard, finger marks appearing on his cheek immediately. “I’m out of here!” She flung open the door of his truck, and it smacked the car next to them. She didn’t care. Fuck him if he’s going to be that way. She grabbed her books and walked away.

* * * *

Okay, so she gave good head, but she wasn’t a whore, though she played the part damn good. She really was a virgin, really saving it for that special someone who she would one day marry, or that was the plan. Surely she could hold out.

She opened the door to her classroom; of course, everyone looked toward the door. Jessica sauntered in; one boy in the back of the class whistled quietly at her. The teacher eyed her, too. His eyes held lust, but he tried so hard to hide it. He gazed at her long silk-like hair, her slender, long legs that never seemed to end and her nails that were always professionally manicured. The mini-skirt and nearly see-through, lime green wife-beater were just added bonuses. Her erect nipples pressed hard against the cotton fabric; she never wore a bra. She did not see the sense in it. Her breasts bounced erratically as she walked back to her seat. She held her books low so everyone who wished to could see her display.