She Came Bac

I originally intended to submit this for the Halloween story contest, but I missed the deadline. I did manage to submit another story, 'Some Like it Warm', that's much longer than this one. I hope you read both, and please rate them and leave comments. I always reply to constructive comments. Thank you!

She Came Back

"C'mon, Dad, it's time for the service." Dressed in mourning black, Jane Lewandowski stood in the door of her father's room, and her heart broke. Her father sat on the edge of his bed, only half-dressed, staring into space. The happy, vital man she had known her entire life was gone, reduced to this husk who couldn't seem to make a decision or muster the energy to do anything.

Jane bustled into the room her parents had shared for the entire 40 years of their marriage. Everything in it reminded her of the happy couple her parents had been and the happy home they had created for their daughters. Her mom's sewing kit and tennis trophies, the plaque her dad had been given when he'd retired from teaching and coaching at the local high school, the post cards they'd collected on their travels, and her and her sister's school artwork and graduation photos.

Her sister. Well, Jane reflected, everything hadn't been perfect after all, had it?

"Here, Dad, let me help you," she said as he looked up at her vaguely, uncomprehendingly. She helped him get his shoes and jacket on, tied his tie, and led him down to the car.

The wake was always going to be difficult, but it was actually worse than Jane expected. Her family hadn't made the trip east with her. Her husband had just started a new job and had no vacation or sick days to take. Her own daughters were both studying abroad this semester, one in Venice, the other in Canterbury, UK. It would have been prohibitively expensive to fly them back to the states for the funeral.

As for her sister, Genny, she hadn't called or come home, even after she had been told about their mom's diagnosis. So, Jane was left alone with her dad in the receiving line, accepting expressions of sympathy, listening to strangers' memories of her mother, making small talk, and making sure he kept going.

She drove her parents' car in the funeral procession, right behind the hearse, her father bundled into the passenger seat. He was so quiet that she asked him, once, if he were okay. She knew it was a foolish question, but she didn't really know what else to say. He looked at her for a moment, and then said, "I finally retired, and we were going to travel. We had so many plans."

She spent the rest of the drive with one hand on the wheel, the other full of tissues trying to wipe away tears.

They were halfway through the graveside service when Jane looked up and almost swore out loud. There, striding across the cemetery, was her sister, Genevieve, making a grand entrance as always. She was wearing stressed jeans (at least they were black, Jane thought), Doc Martens, and a maroon blouse. Her long, brown hair hung to the small of her back and whipped around her in the late October wind.

As soon as Genny joined the service, her dad perked up. They hugged, and she stood with her arm around him as if she were actually a dutiful daughter. Another receiving line of sorts formed at the end of the service, as people lined up to see her and talk to her. As usual, she knew just what to say and she charmed every one of them. Also as usual, dutiful Jane stood in the background and was ignored while her little sister soaked up the spotlight.

"What's next?" Genny asked, sounding bored as they drove away from the cemetery. She was sitting in the back seat, holding her father's hand, and he was actually smiling for the first time in weeks. His little girl had always been the apple of his eye.

"Nice of you to show up," Jane said in reply. "It's only our mother's funeral."

Genny shrugged. "I'm putting on a show in Portland. I came as soon as I could." Jane just rolled her eyes. Genny was a performance artist whose shows, as far as anybody could tell, mostly involved nudity.

When they got home and started setting up the luncheon, Genny disappeared, as usual. Jane found her out on the porch, smoking. She asked her for some help getting everything ready, and that's when Genny told her that she couldn't stay for lunch. She had things to do and people to see.

Jane felt like exploding, but before she could give her a piece of her mind a car rolled up and honked. Genny threw away her cigarette and hopped off the porch. As she headed down the driveway she shouted over her shoulder not to worry, that she had Dad's keys and would let herself in when she got back.

With Genny gone, her father was back to his old listless self, and Jane shouldered the burden of putting out food, entertaining, and cleaning up. The luncheon lasted most of the afternoon, and by the time everything was put away it was almost dinner time. She and her father watched TV together for the evening, and when she went up to bed she remined him that she was flying back home tomorrow.

Jack Lewandowski sat alone for some time, TV off, just listening to the night. He got up and walked around the house, taking in the wreckage of the life he and his wife had built together. Everything had seemed so perfect. The rest of their lives was all planned out. Now, it was gone.

He ended up in the den, looking at the photo of his wife and daughters that always hung above the mantle. It had been taken when the girls were young. Gillian was in the middle, and Genny, looking just like her mom's little twin, stood next to her. Jane, of course, stood off to the side a bit, her smile looking forced. Jack wondered why she never seemed to be happy.

After a few moments, he went upstairs, took a sleeping pill, and went to bed.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Jack woke up. He was still groggy and disoriented from the pill, and at first he had no idea what had woken him up. The room was completely black - his wife had never been able to sleep unless the room was pitch dark - but it seemed somehow different.

Then a floorboard creaked, over near the door. Then another, slightly closer. Light footfalls sounded, slowly coming toward the bed. Jack was alarmed, and tried to sit up. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and tried to say something, ask who was there, but his throat was dry and nothing came out but a faint croak.

Then the bed dipped as somebody sat on the edge. A moment later a pair of lips - cold lips - met his. Whoever this was knew how to kiss him exactly as his wife had. He kissed her back, and brought his hands up to her face. He could feel the short hair she had always worn, perfectly framing her beautiful face.

"Gillian," he gasped, "you...you've come back to me! How?"

In response, a cold finger was placed across his lips, followed by those lips again, and he kissed her back with all his might. He didn't know if he was dreaming or not, but this was exactly what he had been praying for. He wasn't going to waste time questioning it. You don't question miracles.

As the kiss went on and on, their tongues entangling, a cold hand undid the buttons of his pajama tops and caressed his chest. Slowly, it moved down over his belly, still fairly flat for a man of his age, and then under the waistband of his bottoms. It found his cock, harder than it had been in years, and began slowly pumping it.

Jack moved his hands down from her face, tracing the lines of her shoulders that he knew so well, and further down to her breasts. She was naked, and her smallish breasts sat high up on her chest just as they had in college, when they had met. He knew her nipples were very sensitive, and he teased them with his thumbs and forefingers before lightly pinching them just as she loved. She gasped, and began breathing heavily, panting.

Again, the bed shifted, and she was now using both hands to push down his pajama bottoms. He helped her, and then she crawled on top of him. It had always been their favorite position. She liked to control the angle and speed, and he could last longer. She felt behind her, grasped his cock, and lined it up with her pussy. Slowly, she sat back on him.

He gasped. She was as wet and tight as she had been the first time they had fucked. He kept his hands on her breasts, teasing her nipples just as she loved, while she slowly began posting up and down.

She put her hands on his chest, leaned on him for leverage, and began riding him faster. As she sat down on his cock, taking it completely into her body, harder and harder, he slid his hands from her breasts, down her sides, and to her ass. Gillian had such a tight ass when she was younger, and she loved having it cupped and squeezed. Just like before, her cheeks fit perfectly into his hands, and he felt them flexing as she rode him.

This wasn't going to be a long, comfortable, romantic fuck like they'd gotten used to over the years. This was going to be hard, fast, and passionate, just like when they were young and couldn't wait to get their hands on each other. She was slamming herself down on him, making the entire bed shake. He was squeezing her ass for all he was worth. They were both panting and gasping.

At the last minute, she leaned forward, kissing him, using just her hips to keep him moving in and out of her. Her body had warmed up as they fucked, and in moments she started to moan into his mouth. He'd been waiting for this, trying to hold off on his own orgasm, and he took his cue from her and bit down on the moans he so badly wanted to make.

When they were young, they used to be so loud that a neighbor had once complained. This was more like when the girls came along, and they had to do their best to be quieter. Lips sealed together, moaning into each other's mouths, they came. He spurted what seemed like a year's worth of cum into her, and she shook all over, lying completely on top of him now, grinding her breasts into his chest.

To Jack's delight, Gillian slid off him and curled up next to him as soon as the aftershocks of their orgasms had subsided. He had been afraid that she would leave, or vanish into thin air, or something like that. Instead, she put her head on his chest, just like always, and went to sleep. Just before Jack drifted off, he instinctively looked over toward the door. He'd caught Genny watching them often enough over the years that he always checked now.

When she woke up in the morning, Jane took a quick shower and finished packing her things. She hated leaving her father so soon after the funeral, but she had no choice. This was the only way her schedule worked, and she was glad she had fit in the extra days before the service. Dad had needed it.

As she rolled her suitcase down the hall, she noted that Genny's door was open and her bed hadn't been slept in. No surprise there. She briefly wondered who her sister had spent the night fucking, but then put it out of her head.

She stopped by her father's room, to remind him that she was going, but found that he was already up. On her way downstairs, she caught the smell of food cooking. There were sounds of activity in the kitchen, and when she poked her head around the corner she was astonished to find her dad up and making a full breakfast. Genny sat at the table, dressed in the same clothes she had had on yesterday.

"There she is!" her father announced as soon as he spotted her. At first Jane wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not, even though he was looking right at her.

"I know you probably have one of those Ubers booked," he continued, "and you were just going to grab something quick to eat, but you just cancel those plans! I don't know when I'm going to see my baby girl again, and I couldn't just let you slip out of the house. Sit down, I've got eggs, bacon, French toast, and fruit for you, and I'm driving you to the airport. We've got plenty of time before your flight boards!"

In disbelief, Jane left her suitcase in the hall and slid down into a chair. Her father served her, and even more astonishing, Genny brought her a mug of coffee with cream and sugar, just the way she liked it.

While Jane ate and her father puttered about, doing cleanup, Genny leaned over and took her hand.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been around," she said, sounding sincere. "I know you've had to shoulder a lot of responsibility...well, for a lot of years. But I want you to know that you don't have to worry anymore. I'm going to be staying here for a while, and I'll take care of Dad."

Jane was so overcome that she hugged her sister, and for the first time in a long time she actually meant it.

Later, as she sat in the passenger seat while her father drove them away, she looked back to see Genny waving from the porch. "Geez," she thought, "she really does look exactly like Mom with her hair cut short like that."