Author's note:
I believe there was either problem with my email or a problem with Literotica's messaging system. A few months ago, I started getting comments; like a lot of them. Looking at the dates, I noticed that they were old comments, but they were just getting to me. Many of them were as old as 2016.
There was one comment sent by a person who wanted me to draft his story for him. I never answered him. By the time I read his email, it was 3 years later.
I apologize to anyone who's emailed me and not received a thank you of some sort. I enjoy interaction with people who read my stories, and I feel like anyone who takes the time to read them and comment deserves my appreciation. So, thank you. If you didn't hear from me, believe me, it was not intentional.
On second note, this story is broken up into 3 parts. I know I am notorious for leaving readers hanging between chapters. That and my dismal editing skills are my weakness, and I apologize for both. However, I've taken the advice of SEVERAL readers on this one. This story is finished. I've broken it up into three parts because it's easier to edit small chunks than one large one. So, you won't have to wait an entire year to finish this story (cough, cough...The Weekend...cough, cough). Each part will be submitted after short editing intervals.
Thank you all. Feel free to comment.
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Rick lifted his head looked up at the sun, as if it were the first time he'd ever seen it. A cool breeze wisped around him, gently touching his face. Closing his eyes, he took in the fresh air through my nose.
Was the sun brighter than yesterday? Was it warmer? Did the air smell better?
No. The only difference was today he was experiencing these things as a free man.
He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw his past behind him as the gates to his former home, the one he'd been living in for the past 4 years, closed and locked with a loud clank. That sound, amongst many, was one he was looking forward to never hearing again.
He was never going back.
A loud squeal broke him from his reverie. He turned forward just in time to a vision of beauty that was unmatched by anything he could dream. Running towards him from across the parking lot was his wife, Traci.
Time slowed down for him. Her thin sundress danced around her legs as she sprinted. Her smile lit up her face, which had tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.
She didn't stop, or even slow down as she drew closer to him. Instead, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her long legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
He held her hoovering above the ground as she squeezed him with all the strength she had. Her trembling breasts pressed against his chest; her hair fluttered around his face. He closed his eyes and drank in the smell of her shampoo.
"Is this real? Please tell me I'm not dreaming." She whimpered. Her tears wet his cheeks and neck as she sobbed.
This moment. This feeling. Every night for the last four years, when the lights were turned out and his prison cell was thrown into darkness, it was THIS that kept him from going insane.
For the first time in a long time, he let out a content exhale and allowed emotional tears to escape. Finally, he was where he was meant to be. That place behind him was no place for a human being. This was where he belonged, out here with his arms wrapped about the only person who loved him.
"Yeah baby. I'm really here. And I'm not ever leaving your side again."
If it were at all possible, she squeezed him even harder. She refused to let go; almost afraid that he'd evaporate, and she'd wake up to another morning in an empty bed.
Finally, when the air threatened to be cut off, he said, "Baby. You gotta let go."
"No. I can't."
With a stifled chuckle, he said, "If you don't, I'm probably gonna pass out."
Her arms slowly unraveled. When she unwrapped her legs, he allowed her feet to touch the ground. She looked at him and had to turn away as a sheepish giggle escaped through her happy tears.
"Sorry about that." she said, almost shyly.
He gave a shrug. "No need to apologize for being too excited to see me. There are worse ways a man can be choked to death."
That was when she took the liberty of exploring him, giving him an appreciative once over. What she saw made her mouth drop open.
"Umm...I think you can handle it!" She joked as she took in the sight.
He was so big! His arms, his chest, his shoulders. Oh God! Where did this Greek God come from? She didn't remember him looking this delicious the last time she went to visit him, which was only about a month ago. That orange jumpsuit hid all of this...manliness.
The things I'm going to do to him tonight!
She thought lustfully as she bit her bottom lip. Her palm rested on his chest and squeezed his firm pecs.
Reading her face, it was Rick's turn to be bashful. "There's not a lot to do in there. Lifting weights was kinda my thing."
"Yeah it was!" she said with a giggle, not even bothering to be coy about what she was thinking.
The moment was broken by a rather rude throat-clearing interruption. Rick looked over Traci's shoulder to see her mother, his mother in law, standing back watching the two of them with dispassionate eyes.
"Hello, Derrick." She said with cool, forced congeniality. She pronounced both syllables of his full name as if it caused her tongue physical pain to vomit it up. Her face could barely hide the contempt she held for her jail-bird son-in-law. She was the only person in the entire world who could make his name sound like it belonged in the history books next to Hitler and Stalin.
"Martha." He said with a cordial nod. He was not going to be drawn into it with her. Even her thinly veiled contempt for him couldn't ruin this day. He was free! After four long years of an 8 by 10 cell, sadistic guards, bitter prisoners, and barely edible food, he was a free man.
God! That felt great! What could be better than that?
Clutching tightly to Martha's hand was the answer to that question. Peeking out from behind her legs with big, scared eyes was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
With a gasp of awe, he said, "Is that..."
"Anya..." Martha addressed the little girl, cutting him off but answering his question. "Go over and say hi to your daddy."
The little girl shyly looked up at the big man that was hugging her mommy, but she didn't let go of her Granny's hand. In fact, she clutched it tighter and shrank away.
Martha looked down at her granddaughter, and in a warmer, comforting voice, she said, "Don't worry baby. He's not gonna hurt you. Granny won't let him."