Forever Midnight

Sarah had not touched her food. They had both ordered salads, and Darren was mopping up the mayonnaise and remnants of chopped carrot on his plate with a piece of bread. Her mood hadn't gone unnoticed either.

"You alright? Not hungry?" Darren asked, then raised a mug of coffee, taking a sip.

"Why do you ask?" Sarah answered, not looking up from her plate, "I'm OK...it's just been a hard morning."

"The case still troubling you?"

She did not reply, moving her fork through some coleslaw with no hint of having any.

"Sarah?"

"What?!" she snapped, and looked at him.

"Something's up – we've hardly spoken since I picked you up."

"Nothings up. Drop it, OK?"

Darren relaxed back and looked around the small but elegantly furnished diner. A strong sun was beaming in from a large main window where patrons were seated at tables, looking like they were having a much better time than he was.

"We went over to the crime scene today. Not a pleasant experience, I can tell you."

Sarah nodded.

"Some bad shit went down there. None of us know really what we could be stumbling onto here. So much still remains hidden."

Sarah pushed her plate away from her and sat looking restless. She looked around the diner also, and caught sight of a pretty blonde waitress as she served an elderly couple some deserts.

"Want some ice cream?" Darren then asked.

Suddenly, Sarah got up, straightening her suit with a brush of her hands.

"Where you going?"

"I gotta go to the bathroom." she replied, then walked away.

Darren watched her leave, then took a cheque book out from his jacket.

A few minutes later, Darren entered the outer corridor, looking frustrated. He didn't understand what was going on with Sarah. Obviously, she was having problems at work. He knew how much this Valmont case was bothering her. Yet whenever it came to talking about it, she was a closed book. He wished he could get through to her, make her realise he was there to help.

He reached the door to the ladies bathroom, and smiled at a brunette who exited, and looked away to avoid suspicion. Then once he was alone again, he suddenly entered the bathroom and closed the door. He stood in a beautiful room with a series of toilet cubicles, and a long mirror before some washbasins. It was very elegant, and probably the nicest public bathroom he had ever been in, not that he had ever frequented ladies' bathrooms, of course. He felt a little awkward being there, but as he stood he could hear a faint weeping.

Slowly he approached the cubicles, and the weeping became clearer. He sighed. He didn't know what to say – in all eventuality she was probably going to go mad at him for following her. He reached one cubical where the door was closed, and he knocked gently on the pink-painted wood.

Inside, Sarah was seated on the toilet, and raised her head from her hands. She had not really gone there to urinate, as her skirt was still hanging over her legs and the seat was down. Her face was flushed and her eyelids red from crying.

"Sarah?" came Darren's voice.

Sarah bowed her head again, then stood up, straightening her clothes, then approached the door. Then she stopped herself, resting her forehead against the wood, and sighed loudly.

"Are you in there, Sarah?"

A smile slowly formed on her face, and she unlocked the door, then opened it and suddenly pulled Darren inside.

"Hey!" he gasped as the door was closed again and he was thrust against it.

"Don't say a word!" she whispered, then lay a firm kiss on his open mouth and buried her tongue.

Darren was taken back, unable to comprehend what was happening. This was not like Sarah – she was normally so reserved.

Eventually their lips parted, leaving a trail of saliva to hang delicately between them. Darren examined her eyes, an undeniable gleam of lust evident in them.

"Sarah, I..." he whispered, then she pressed a finger to his lips to silence him.

"What did I say?" she replied, then slowly sank to her knees, quick to unfasten his belt and roll his trousers down to his ankles.

Darren's black briefs bulged to show that despite his shock he was incredibly aroused. Sarah grinned up at him, and for the first time since they had been together, he saw her in a different light. She took out his erection and caressed it in both hands. A shadow was cast over her face, brought on by the single fluorescent light shining down on them from the ceiling. She smiled again, then took the head in her mouth, rolling back the foreskin with her lips then drew his erect penis further in until his balls met her chin.

Darren watched in amazement. She was holding her breath, deep throating his seven-inch penis and not gagging. He had only seen such like in adult movies. This was not the Sarah he had grown to love; but he liked it for a whole other reason.

She then removed his penis from her mouth, gasping for breath, and giggled. Then she began to feverishly suck him, bobbing her head and taking him in and out of her mouth until the length was slick and dripping wet. Darren was transfixed.

After a moment, Sarah stood up again, then quickly reached under her skirt to remove her lace panties, dropping them to the floor. They paused, looking at each other, then suddenly Darren moved forward, and Sarah placed one foot on the toilet seat, giving him easy access to her as his stiff penis pressed against her belly. Her scent was of sex, her warmth was of sex – it had come unexpected, but it was also the exact thing both of them needed right there and then. Darren kissed her passionately, one hand pressed to the back wall, the other around her waist. The tip of his penis was rubbing deliciously against the growing slickness of her vagina. He had to be inside her – he had to fuck her. Darren thrust against her and she let out a small yelp, then he thrust again, and his penis was buried to the hilt. Darren & Sarah's sex life had always been good – he was quite a horny guy most of the time, and she was mostly eager to please – but she was also a little shy, and the whole idea of having sex like this, not the least in public, had seemed out of question – until now.

Darren began to fuck her hard, his lips smearing her lipstick across her face and her perfume was fuelling his desire. He thrust against her fast and without reservation. She groaned and moved with him, until the cubical itself began to creak. Then Sarah moved and he went with her until she sank onto the toilet seat, and he put his hands to the wall, just above her head, and she parted her legs, grunting as he began to piston in and out - pumping his length into her over and over.

As she looked up at him she could see the sweat on his brow. The muscles bulged through his shirt, and he gritted his teeth every time it felt too good.

"Come on!" she then began to say, "Do it – you want it as much as me – fuck me. Fuck me!!"

It was another shock – Sarah very rarely swore – but her expletives just made him thrust harder, his balls slapping her flesh every time he impaled her, and he knew the moment of no return was nearly upon him.

"God. Sarah...." he gasped, and thrust in and out of her swollen pussy faster than he had ever done before. It was a surreal experience, almost like he wasn't fucking his fiancé at all, but someone else, someone from his past – the only time before that he had known sex like it.

Then suddenly, she pressed her hand to his chest, stopping his thrusts, and he stared at her. Her expression had changed. It was no loner a look of lust, but that of shock, despite her panting.

"No!" she gasped, then beat her fists against his body, "Get off me!!" she yelled.

Darren pulled out, staggering as his erection released three thick spurts of semen. Alas, any orgasm had passed him by without the usual kick.

"What?" he replied, confused.

Sarah felt violated. She did not understand how it had happened – she only recalled crying in the cubical, and not Darren at all. What was he doing invading her privacy?

"Get the fuck outta here you bastard. Get out!!" she shouted, closing her legs in embarrassment.

Darren said no more, turning to the door and opened it, quick to pull his trousers up and fasten them. He was a mess, but he had no time to clean up. He just wanted out – she had made him feel pathetic.

Shortly after, Sarah walked out of the cubical, her dignity only slightly restored. She had straightened her skirt and tidied her hair from her face, then reached a washbasin and ran the taps. She splashed her face to freshen herself, then examined her reflection as beads of water dripped from her chin.

"Now just hold on..." she told herself, "...you're alright." she added then, standing up straight, she frowned when she saw something behind her.

Focusing, she stepped aside to reveal the toilet cubicle's reflection, and to her sudden distress, she saw a black haired woman, slumped on the toilet, long stocking-clad legs spread wide, a flimsy thong hooked around one foot, and a splatter of semen dripping from her swollen crotch to land in a pool on the tiled floor.

"Of course you're alright." the woman then replied, looking exhausted, "We are one now. Nobody can come between us. We will do what needs to be done to keep it all secret. Our little secret, Sarah."

Sarah was horrified, "What are you? Are you a ghost?" she asked, then looked away from the reflected cubical to re-focus on her own face, and answered herself:

"I am a part of you now. A part that can never be separated. What has been done cannot be undone. Death is only the beginning."

Sarah gasped at her own words, then turned to look at the cubical again. It was empty.