Thanks to Techsan for editing this story for me.
*
I sat up straight in bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 2:30 AM. The tee shirt I wore to bed was soaking wet, as it always was when I had the dream. I looked over at my wife and she was sound asleep. I was relieved that I hadn't awakened her. This time I must not have been ranting in my sleep.
I didn't know what triggered the dream but it was always the same. It was a dream clouded version of the memories of an event that took place more than two years ago. In the dream I was sitting at the desk in my study. Sitting on the desk in front of me was a half full bottle of scotch, an empty glass and a 38 revolver. I would pour myself a full glass of the scotch and drink it down in one large gulp. It would always register in my dream that I neither tasted nor felt the effects of the scotch as it went down. I would then pick up the gun and open the cylinder to make sure all six chambers contained a live cartridge.
Then I would say "It's fucking full, none missing. I want to fucking kill them. I want to kill all three of those fuckers. If I do it I will go to jail. No, I'll fucking kill myself. God damn them..."
The words were not always the same but the idea was. Thank God the dreams had become much less frequent. At first I had one every week and sometimes twice a week but now it was less than once in two months.
While I was dreaming it seemed so real, like it was really happening but the reality was that the dream bore very little resemblance to the actual event. There was a bottle of scotch involved but I was on the sofa in the living room. There was no 38 revolver. I don't own a gun. The threats to kill, I don't remember ever making that night. I got drunk, very drunk and fell asleep on the sofa. To make sense out of this I have to go back two years to begin the story.
As years go 2002 was a bad one. The problems started in January with my wife Kathy and me fighting with the city inspectors over the design of the new home we were planning to build. The inspector had repeatedly rejected our application for a building permit until I finally got an engineer to sign off on our blue prints saying that what we wanted to do was safe and meet all current building codes. Once we finally had the permit the fight began with our contractor to get him to stay on schedule and this lasted until we were able to move into the house in August. In addition to the problems getting our house built, Kathy and I were kept very busy in our chosen careers.
My name is Fred Alpin and March 6 of 2002 marked the sixth anniversary for Kathy and me. Outside of the problems we were having getting our house built things had been going very well for us. For my part I had been working for Independent Investigations Corporation (IIC) in Indianapolis for eight years. IIC is not a typical private detective agency. We provide investigative services to large insurance companies. Our job was to investigate insurance claims for fraud, retrieve stolen property or in any way possible mitigate our client's losses. For our services we were paid a percentage of the value of items we recovered or what we saved the insurance companies. I am a lead investigator, which allows me to pick the cases I want to work on and assign cases to others. I can tell you from my experience that this business is quite lucrative.
I was 30 years old and had just started to find some gray hairs in my otherwise thick head of dark brown hair. I have been described as confident. I have heard men described as handsome, sexy, hot, a hunk, or even a wasted suit but me? I'm confident, whatever the hell that means. I am not movie star handsome or freak show ugly. My facial features are pretty average except that my nose is a little crooked, it was broken in an amateur boxing match when I was in college, and I have very dark brown eyes. At six feet two inches tall and 185 pounds, I have a tall athletic body and I always stand erect and my facial expressions seldom give away what I am thinking.
Kathy was twenty-nine years old and at five feet eight inches she was the sexiest woman I knew. Her dark brown hair with red highlights hung in long curls to her shoulders. Her eyes were blue with tiny specs of green in the irises. At 125 pounds Kathy was slim but very well proportioned. Her breasts where of average size but they were firm and beautifully shaped. Kathy had the legs of a dancer, nicely shaped calves and firm thighs with soft smooth skin. My favorite feature was her buttocks. Kathy had two wonderfully rounded globes that made her look sexy in anything she wore. When she would clench her gluteus muscles I would tell her that her butt was so hard I could drive nails with it.
Kathy had been the manager of the accounting department at DC&H for two years and had twenty accountants reporting to her. DC&H were specialists in mergers and acquisitions and had been having a good run over the last couple of years, which meant that Kathy had received some nice year end bonuses but early in 2002 there had been some problems at the DC&H offices in Indianapolis.
In February the manager of the Indianapolis office was fired and was replaced by Greg Bartlett. Greg was about five feet five inches tall, at least twenty pounds over weight and nearly bald. The hair that remained formed a horseshoe around his head. Kathy said that Bartlett was a good manager and I when I met him I found him to be likable.
At the same time Bartlett came to Indianapolis, DC&H transferred one of their vice presidents to the office. Kathy said that the company decided that it was a good idea to spread their VPs around to different cities so that they could visit customers and help close big deals. The VP's name was Jack Hanson and he had moved to Indianapolis from New York. Hanson was about forty-five years old, six feet tall, with graying hair. He was in good physical condition and obviously worked out regularly.
When I met him he was friendly but he struck me as someone with a roving eye. I noticed the way he looked at any woman that passed by as though he was considering if he wanted to bed them. He was married but I doubted if that would even slow him down. I had met many men like him before and I didn't like them either. Kathy seemed to think he was great and she said everyone else at DC&H did too. She talked about him all the time, telling me about all the great ideas he had for driving new business, which in the long run would mean more money for her.
Construction of our new house was on schedule by summer and the turmoil caused by the management changes at DC&H had settled down. According to Kathy business was picking up thanks to Mr. Hanson.
We moved into our new house just outside of Indianapolis on the second week of August and we loved it The day we moved in I jokingly told Kathy that I wanted to make love to her at least once in every room in the house. Kathy looked around at all of the boxes waiting to be unpacked and then took me by the hand and led me into the kitchen.
"Let's get the kitchen out of the way right now," Katy said.
Kathy pulled her shorts and panties down and turned away from me to lean over the dinette table.
I had only been joking but the erection I suddenly had was serious. I dropped to my knees behind Kathy and started licking her pussy and then pushing my tongue inside her. As soon as she was wet enough I stood up and guided my cock into her pussy. The fact that I had not been aroused or even thinking about sex until just moments before I penetrated her allowed me to last longer than usual. Kathy had one good orgasm before I climaxed leaving me a bit rubber legged.
My deflating cock dropped from Kathy's pussy followed by a large glob of semen that fell to the floor. Kathy put her hand between her legs to keep more of my semen from dripping onto the floor and headed off to the bathroom to clean herself up. As she left the room Kathy called back to me, "We'll do the bedroom tonight and the living room tomorrow. Now get back to work."
We did do the bedroom that night but didn't get to the other rooms. Between our jobs and trying to get our new house settled we didn't have the time or energy to take our sex outside of our bedroom but we did stay in touch, so to speak, in our bedroom. It just seemed that the only time we were able to be together was when we got into bed at night. One night when we were in bed making love I began to discuss starting a family. We had had the discussion before and Kathy had said that she wanted to start in the fall so that we would have a summer baby.
"I think it's time you get off your birth control pills and we get you pregnant," I said.
