Sex Death And Other Strange Ideas Ch 05

SEX, DEATH, AND OTHER STRANGE IDEAS

Sex, Death, and Other Strange Ideas is a steamy supernatural romance novel with multiple chapters. Contains language and situations (utterly) inappropriate for those under 18.

(Chapter 1)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas

(Chapter 2)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-02

(Chapter 3)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-03

(Chapter 4)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-04

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CHAPTER 5

Oh yeah, Alex felt like a rapist all right. He knew he was going to feel that way at the time he was doing what he did, so he accepted it. The fact that Jo clearly enjoyed the experience was immaterial, as was Alex's own insubstantiality. He had still touched her in some of the most intimate ways without consent. The sweet taste of her still lingered on his tongue for crying out loud, although he wasn't certain if that was real or just a fond memory. Jo's body had felt incredible under his phantom hands, tantalizing the few senses Alex had left and reminding him that whatever else he might have become, he was still a man. Too much time alone and he started to lose even that.

And Jesus, what the hell had happened when Jo had that final, thunderous climax? He tried to write off the phenomenon as God only knew how many decades of sexual energy he was repressing, but his mind kept going back to chew on it. Alex hadn't even given her proper oral sex, just a loving caress with his tongue because he had been unable to resist. Jo had reacted like he'd set of a blasting cap inside her and hit him right in the face with...

something

. What that something was, Alex had no clue, but it had struck with enough force to send him reeling.

Alex hadn't moved from his spot on the bed until morning, although Jo had fallen asleep almost immediately. Her brow remained smooth and untroubled all night long, and a few times she smiled prettily in her sleep. She awoke bright and early in such a good mood that she nearly bounced out of bed. After her daily caffeine ritual, Jo called her mother and invited

her

to go shopping for party dresses on the condition they stop at the garden store. The women were out and about now, leaving Alex alone in the house with his thoughts and Jean-Luc for company.

Deciding that making friends with the cat would be a better way to kill time than dwelling on his own phantasmal perversions, Alex wandered through the house looking for Jean-Luc and calling his name. He discovered the fluffy tabby on the windowsill of the kitchen, basking in a sunbeam. "Hey, Jean-Luc ol' buddy," Alex said, stopping a fair distance away. The animal lazily turned his head in Alex's direction, his eyes almost closed in the way cats have of pretending to be asleep while watching every move you make. Alex took a step forward and the animal didn't dart away, so Alex grinned as chummily as he could manage and flashed the cat a peace sign. "See buddy? I'm cool. You're cool. He's cool, she's cool, we're

all

cool. We're all just hangin' chilly right here." Alex took another cautious step and Jean-Luc opened his eyes and looked at him directly, but still didn't budge.

In this manner, Alex made his way across the kitchen toward the windowsill. He would pause every step to speak some kind of nonsense, be it encouraging words, a vague insult, or long-out-of-style lingo. Alex didn't know much about cats in the scientific sense, but he thought the more Jean-Luc got used to his voice, the better. Of course, he wasn't even sure how much the animal was able to

hear

him, but Jean-Luc responded to the noises he made at least. When Alex finally got within arm's reach, he raised one hand and stretched slowly toward the fat orange cat. His reward was a deep growl in the animal's throat, and he dropped his hand again.

"Aw, c'mon," he wheedled. "I'm just trying to make friendly-like. You know me by now, maybe you can even put in a good word for me with Jo." Alex put his hand out, was growled at again, and put it back down. "Well, shit. What do I have to do, huh? I'd offer to feed you, but I can't exactly do that, you'll have to wait for your mom. Hold still, Jean-Luc, give me a chance." Alex reached out one more time and suddenly the cat hissed and bolted, leaping from the windowsill and disappearing from the kitchen in a streak of orange fur.

"Dammit," Alex muttered, looking after the long-gone animal. Well, he'd gotten closer this time than ever before. With time and patience, both of which Alex had in abundance, maybe Jean-Luc would eventually grow accustomed to him. It would be nice to have a companion that was aware of his presence.

As was rapidly becoming his usual, Alex's thoughts drifted back to Jo. He pictured her out shopping with her as-yet-unnamed mother and wondered how well they were getting along. The women themselves were clear in his imagination, but everything else was vague. In Alex's recollection, he had never been outside the estate. He simply appeared here one day with only fragments of memory of what might have come before, and he had been here so long that the house was the only world he knew any more.

Alex grumbled to himself, detesting his own fractured and deteriorating mind. It was without a doubt the most aggravating part of his... oh hell, he didn't know, his

condition

? The things that he could recall clearly were growing fewer and further apart by the day, and solitude in this miserable dreary house only made it worse. Alex could remember things up to a point, but the further into the past he went, the faster everything began to disappear into a pale gray mist. Alex sometimes felt like he was being

unmade

, memory by memory, and his sense of self was crumbling to pieces too. He didn't even know his last name anymore for Christ's sake, and he had long since given up trying to recall it.

Alex stalked over to the kitchen window to glare sulkily out at the back yard. He could see the copse of trees that concealed the thrice damned greenhouse, and he gave it the finger in a feeble gesture of defiance. Alex had hoped Jo would be the one to burn it to the ground, but

noooo

, he had learned from listening to her talk to herself that she intended to

renovate

the blasted thing. Alex had never even been inside except once, and it was the bane of his existence.

On an impulse, Alex decided to give the cat a break and stepped out into the backyard, not bothering with the door. He didn't like the sensation of passing through solid objects and preferred to use open doorways, but it was something one got used to after a while. Outside in the yard the sun shone brightly, and the air still held traces of fresh-cut grass. The flowers were lovely, the pathways were neat and well-tended, and everything was beautiful with one big, fat, ugly motherfucker of an exception that lurked forever in the dark corners of his awareness.

Alex turned toward it now, not hurrying but walking purposefully. It had been a while since he had tried this, but if Jo was really

that

serious about restoring the damn thing instead of dynamiting it, he had better start growing some balls. He strode along the path, his head held erect and his jaw set, a man on a mission. The fork in the pathway was just ahead and Alex chose the leftmost route without pausing. The dense patch of trees loomed before him, and he could see the yellowish glass corner of the greenhouse sparkling in the spring sunshine. He'd just stroll down there and pop inside, a few more steps and he'd be there. Easy as...

...

PAIN...

Alex froze like a statue, one foot still off the ground. It wasn't so much a physical sensation of agony as it was a concept made manifest and purified to its elemental state. On the heels of that came a flood of other dubious units of language such as horror, panic, revulsion, and dread. And don't forget the

blood

, no no. Mustn't lose that as it was the most important part of the whole thing for some hellish reason. What was left of Alex was only capable of comprehending so much, and this was

way

over his pay grade. In his terror-soaked daze, Alex knew three simple truths with absolute certainty.

There was something in there.

It was VERY aware of him.

And his only hope was that it stayed where it was.

Just like sensitive people could sense Alex's presence within Cairnwood, Alex could sense some unimaginable

other

lying just out of sight, beyond the edges of his perception. Whatever it was, the greenhouse was its home, it was the focal point of all the dread and foreboding, all the 'bad vibes' that affected anyone in the house. Except these vibes were

worse

than bad, they would freeze the piss in your bladder.

Time passed. Alex couldn't move. The fading memory he thought of as his 'body' felt like it was encased in a block of ice. Alex was commonly aware of temperature changes, but they never bothered him. However, the chill that sank into the pit of his soul now would have frozen his bones solid, had he possessed any. The grove of tightly packed and overgrown trees loomed overhead as if threatening to swallow him whole, and the glass walls of the greenhouse glittered with the promise of abominations that lay within.

Two things happened in rapid succession. A noisy vehicle pulled up the driveway on the other side of the house, and with his trance finally broken, Alex turned and fled like a scared child.

#####

Saturday evening was warm and dry as Penelope promised, and the housewarming party was in full swing. Jo was doing her absolute best, nobody would ever be able to say she didn't, but the last of her patience was wearing awfully damn thin. She had picked out this granny-dress pretending she thought it was pretty and consented to a face full of stinky makeup that made her feel like a Mary Kay circus clown. They'd returned home to find the caterers already setting up, and as the afternoon progressed to evening, Jo had fussed around over this or that, things she didn't care about but knew her mother did. Then she played the perfect hostess, welcoming a shitload of people into her house that she didn't know, and even introduced herself as (shudder) 'Georgina'. If Penelope bitched

once

about her behavior tonight, Jo really would give her a hard left.

Fine, maybe she hadn't been

perfect

. Jo had imbibed a fair amount of champagne already and was about to go back to get her crystal flute refilled. Her intention wasn't to get

staggeringly

drunk, but she needed a psychic buffer, an alcohol-induced neutral zone around her to get through this particular night. Jo wasn't even sure why she agreed to this. She had gone to bed with the intention of calling Penelope in the morning and telling her the deal was off. She didn't want a bunch of strangers in her house, and she didn't want to be set up with anybody. She would cultivate her

own

tribe, thank you very much. But then Jo had woken up in such a spectacular frame of mind that it struck her as odd. Rather than telling her mother to take a long walk off a short pier and hug an octopus, she decided on the spur of the moment to take one last shot at making peace with the rotten bitch.

Now, Jo roamed from stranger to stranger, pretending she remembered who they were and growing increasingly tipsy. The garden band was... well, it was a garden band. Music with so much edge that it was spherical, what did she expect? At least the caterers were good and the seafood in this town was top notch. Jo tried to go easy on the salmon mousse cups. But long before this experiment was half over, Jo had already declared it an abysmal failure. These just weren't her people anymore, assuming they ever had been.

Well, there was

one

spot of potential. A tall young man with broad shoulders and intentionally mussed up hair was trying to pretend he hadn't been giving Jo the eye all night. Her masculine ideal he was not, but he was pleasing enough that Jo might have flashed him a leg had this dress been built for that. She had been strangely horny all day, literally from the moment she woke up. It wasn't at the level where she felt a fierce urge to act upon it, it was just a pleasant state of arousal that followed her around like her shadow. The unknown young man's attentions were flattering enough, she might give him consideration if he didn't turn out to be a

total

creep. She didn't know his name, but that didn't matter if you were just going to trade pity-fucks.

Jesus, had her standards really dropped that low? Considering what she had to offer, Jo didn't think she was asking for that much. Granted, what she was asking for, she had no chance of finding in

this

crowd unless someone was keeping a hell of a secret. Maybe Mister I'm-Too-Cool-To-Comb-My-Hair would turn out to be the man of her dreams in disguise, but somehow Jo doubted it. She finished her drink, bared her teeth at a few more people in the pretense of smiling, and gave her own libido serious consideration. Was she hot and bothered enough to go over and hit on her admirer? Jo didn't care who hit on who first, she was fine taking the initiative if he was the shy type. Shy types could be cute in their way, and they were fun to startle.

Jo was about to grab a refill and go see if this guy was worth looking back at when an actual

welcome

face appeared among the upper-class riffraff that was crowding her back lawn. It had aged quite a bit since she had seen it, but that firm masculine jawline and the blue eyes like glass she had inherited were impossible to mistake. He was also a head taller than everyone else, with pure silver hair and muscles that bulged through his dress shirt. People were greeting him with respectful "Mister Manager"s, but Jo threw propriety to the wind and dashed over to leap up and fling her arms around his neck.

"Uncle William!" Jo cried happily. "Oh my God, I

missed

you! I

love

this house, thank you so much!"

"Jo," the brawny man smiled. He was the only member of her family that called her by the name she liked. William put an arm about her waist and another non-sexually under her butt, and Jo hopped into the offered seat to hug him with her legs, just like she did when she was little. "I'm so glad to see you," William said. "You look wonderful. I'm guessing your mother picked out the dress?" He winked at her like a mischievous schoolboy and Jo giggled. He had once asked her for a picture of herself for the family album, and on a lark Jo sent him a completely inappropriate glamour shot in a barely-there dress. She'd never admit it because incest wasn't her kink, but if he were simply William instead of Uncle William, Jo would have given him a toss a long time ago. She didn't care the man was pushing eighty, he was doing it in

style

.

Bringing things back to a more appropriate level, Uncle William was one of the only members of her family that Jo felt any kind of connection with. He had been her father-figure and her only masculine role model after Daddy died when Jo was eight. His was the house she went to when she wanted to run away from home because her mother hated her for outliving her dad. Hell, Uncle William had been the one to gently give her a proper version of the "birds and bees" talk when she got her first period early and came to him totally freaked out about it.

These days, Uncle William was the sort of man who had more money than anyone on Governor's Island, but still liked to relax in jeans and a comfortable shirt, usually with some football team's logo on it. Among his numerous hobbies, he defied his own age by being a mountaineer and outdoorsman, spending long spans in the wilderness alone with a survival knife and his wits. A long-time widower, he collected sports cars (and drove every one of them), visited dating sites, and wasn't the least bit ashamed of having developed a taste for younger women. Rather than looking to settle down in his seniority, Uncle William grew more vibrant and hungrier for life with every year that went by. Jo identified with him and was sure he identified with her. That was why she had been comfortable sending him that not-

quite

-dirty picture as a joke.

"I picked out the dress to make Penelope happy," Jo confessed. "I feel like I'm wearing a suit of armor. Holy shit, Uncle William, how do you stay in

shape

like this?" She had her legs wrapped around his midsection firmly enough that she could let go of his neck and thump on his stonelike pectorals. "You're supposed to be convalescing, old man, not running around making young girls lubricate."

"That's what they keep telling me," William chuckled. "But I never listen. I'm SO glad you like the house, it's been gathering dust in my portfolio for way too long. I've had the darnedest time finding a serious buyer. The Historical Society was a

little

interested, the Cairnwoods were an important family in their day. They toured the place, took some pictures, and the next day told me in a polite way to go do something impolite to myself."

"That's totally weird," Jo said. "I

love

it! It's a little spooky and could use some brightening up, but nothing a woman's touch can't fix. And you know that old greenhouse out back?" Jo pointed over William's thick shoulder toward the copse of trees. "I've been wanting to take some time off from school and I need something to do. Well, wait until you see it when I'm done with it! The only thing I'm going to need help with is replacing the floor, it's pretty well rotted through. All the rest I'm going to do myself."

"You always did love flowers," Uncle William smiled. "I remember when you used to bring me dandelions from the front yard. You didn't know they were weeds, you just thought they were pretty."

"And you always put them in a vase," Jo finished. "A fucking

Ming

vase. Your great big glamourous house and a great big glamourous vase with a bunch of fucking dandelions sticking out of it. You always made such a big deal of them too."

"Well, you gave them to me," William shrugged, still holding her easily aloft as if she were that long lost pigtailed child again. "That made them important." Jo rewarded him with a firm kiss on his smooth-shaved cheek and another snuggle around the neck.

"I love you, Uncle William," Jo said. "I feel bad I lost touch with you, I was kinda going through some... things. Please come visit sometime when this place isn't full of assholes, and we can just talk. Whenever you can squeeze it into your schedule. By the way, how's that going Mister City Manager?"

"Dull as dirt," came the cheerful reply. "I mostly sit in meetings and nod when it looks like I'm supposed to. There are a lot of stuffed shirts strutting around trying to pretend they're important, so I guess they're good for a laugh. But the Council does all the real work, I just sit on my fat ass and take the credit."

"Fat ass?" William's muscular arms supported Jo well enough so that she could release his neck and give him an incredulous look. "Uncle William, my dearest and most beloved family member, you have

got

to be fucking kidding me." Jo brazenly reached around her uncle and grabbed a solid handful of his butt. The man's glutes could have been carved out of marble. "I hope

my

ass gets this fat one day. I need to get on your exercise program, I..."