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Susan's Choice - Sequel to Troubador's How High A Price.
http://www.literotica.com/s/how-high-a-price
An anonymous reader sent me this version of a finish to the Troubador's How High A Price, when he learned I was working on a sequel.
He (or she) encouraged me to finish and post it, since he was never going to get around to it. It was about 3/4 complete, enough so that I had a pretty good idea of how he wanted it to end. I did not get an email address, so I was unable to confirm that.
Yeah, kind of weird, someone asking me to Finish The Damn Story, of their own, which was finishing someone else's story. Since it only took a couple of hours all told, I figured what the hell.
My own sequel is very different, but I thought I'd throw this one out there, since it was very nearly complete, so different from mine, and only needed a little work. I only made a few dozen editing changes up to the point where the police arrived.
I'll confess this may not be the most polished story I post, but I'm back to working on my own. Please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. I did clean up dozens of errors in the original section, but I didn't go through it quite as closely as I usually do. I preferred not to change the wording or story, fixing only what was necessary to make it grammatically correct.
Obviously, this is not my usual, posting a story for an anonymous writer. I thought it was good enough to deserve putting out there, and that's how this once came about.
For information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.
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Susan Conroy entered the foyer of the large Tudor style house, a house that used to be her home. The home she used to share with Early Conroy.
She still shared the house with Early, she even shared the bedroom with Early, but that was all she shared with Early.
And then, only when he was there.
He had been there less and less the last few days. In the week that followed her time with John Stickner.
It was after nine, she wondered if he was working late, again. He never bothered to check in with her anymore, her calls were seldom returned. If he answered at all, his response was always curt but vague, as if he didn't know what his plans were, only that they didn't include coming home.
Susan wandered towards the kitchen turning on lights as she moved through the empty rooms. It didn't help. No amount of light could permeate the gloom of an abandoned house, although they physically still occupied the premise there was no longer any life.
Just habitation and coexistence.
Undecided on another meal alone or just to bed, Susan peeked into the fridge to see if anything looked appetizing. The bottom shelf held a couple cases of Early's favorite beer, he kept it well stocked with his favorite brands and always seemed to have one on hand when he was in residence.
With a sigh Susan decided on a cup of tea. She wouldn't drink anything alcoholic, not even a glass of wine with dinner, she was afraid once she started drinking she wouldn't be able to stop.
It would be so easy to get lost in an alcoholic haze; Early made it look too easy.
Damn him, she thought, why is he making this so difficult? Why can't he just set his foolish male ego aside and realize it was a onetime thing. Why couldn't he believe she loved him and that her love affair with John Stickner took nothing away from her feelings for him and their marriage.
Although more than twenty years older, the fact that a distinguished and extremely powerful senior partner like John Stickner had taken a professional, and personal interest in her flattered Susan to no end. His desire for her had been unspoken and subtle, and yet she could still feel his need for her.
John always seemed so alone, and so dedicated to his work that his wife had left him because of it. Socially he was always accompanied by a variety of charming, graceful, beautiful women, but seldom the same one more than twice. "Master of the short term relationship," he had once lamented to Susan about his life after divorce.
Of course she loved John, he was her mentor and friend but it was not the same love she felt for her husband. Susan almost worshiped John Stickner but on a purely intellectual, professional level; the man was a practically a legend in the industry.
Somehow she had thought that if she could have properly explained her infatuation to Early, he would have understood and even agreed to let her share her "special gift" with John. It could have been a present from both of them, a gift of love from Early and Susan, to a lonely man who had so unselfishly mentored and guided Susan.
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Even after Early had found them out, she loathed admitting it to herself that she still felt that attraction.
Their first night had been idyllic, their love making slow and sensuous. Being older he was not able to recover, and repeat the performance as her more virile young husband could, but his size was impressive, and he had enough stamina to allow her an orgasm, before he finished.
They spent the rest of the time holding each other, talking and sharing their life stories into the small hours of the morning.
They had made love the following morning, then later in the pool, and again after lunch on the kitchen table. John had said that it had made him feel like a kid again, and that he had never imagined sex in the kitchen.
They both felt wonderfully wicked, for the rest of the weekend Susan and John would giggle like silly children every time they sat down at the kitchen table.
Susan would leer at him and ask him what he wanted to eat, while slowly inching her jeans down. Sunday morning she had actually climbed onto the table and knelt before John so her wet pussy was right at eye level, less than two feet from John's nose. Using both hands to massage each side of her slit, her little clit would slide in and out of its sheath with a soft wet sound, filling the air with the smell of her arousal.
In a husky voice she announced: "Breakfast is served." John had grabbed her ass cheeks and slid her forward on to his tongue, where he brought her to a series of mind numbing climaxes.
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On the last day, as a special treat, Susan had let John take her anally while they stood naked on the balcony.
After "overheating" in the hot tub, Susan wrapped herself in a towel and was admiring the woodland view from the Jacuzzi deck, while John had gone to get more wine. As John came through the French doors and saw Susan silhouetted against the panoramic view, he set the decanter down, stepped up from behind and nibbled at the base of her neck while cupping her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers and the soft terrycloth fabric. As their passion increased the towel soon fell away and Susan began grinding her ass into John's growing erection. As John had grown harder he simply worked himself deeper and deeper into her.
John began massaging Susan's exposed breasts squeezing and kneading from the base to the now very hard tips, Susan reached down to her vulva and began to finger herself, while slowly bucking her hips to match John's rhythm. After a few minutes her knees became so weak she could barely stand, her body was trembling, and her breathing had become shallow and rapid. She had never felt such intensity. Her center had become so wet and sensitive that she couldn't seem to finger herself fast enough, her shaved labia had turned bright red and was oozing in an almost continuous flow through her fingers and down her inner thigh.
She had to lean back onto John's chest, her hips pumping faster and faster to match the rhythm of her fingers, her other hand reaching behind her grasping desperately at the back of John's neck trying to pull his lips even closer to the nape of her neck. She could tell he was getting close, as his hot breath grew ragged on her neck, and the pressure on her nipples increased to almost painful.
In anticipation of her pending orgasm Susan leaned back hard against John and thrust her hips forward as far she could, her whole hand vibrating her exposed clit with lightning speed as he twisted her nipples mercilessly and began moving in and out of her in short powerful strokes.
Susan never realized or cared that anybody passing through the woods below, could see her lewd jittering while suspended on John Stickner's cock. In one long howl of pleasure Susan experienced the most powerful orgasm of her life, as he emptied himself into her bowel.
She knew she was going to have to introduce her husband to the joys of anal sex. Once more, John Stickner was her mentor.
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The long week-end with John had passed all too quickly, Susan was invigorated and felt on top of the world, her career was on a fast track to partnership plus an exciting new level of intimacy with her mentor, John Stickner.
Which made her confrontation with Early on that evening all the more painful, from top of the world to Hell in less than a minute.
John had told her not to despair and had even offered to talk to Early and explain that he was not a threat to him. He said he would be there for her if she needed his help, he had offered to let her stay in his guest room if she needed a place to stay for awhile.
Or if, God forbid, Early threw her out.
She remembered the opulent luxury of his home. The offer was very tempting.
Her reverie was broken as Early walked past her, and grabbed a beer from the fridge.
Susan jumped. "God! You startled me! When did you get home?"
"Left work early, not feelin' too good, I was layin' down upstairs, heard you come in. Thought I better get another beer."
Early looked like hell. He hadn't shaven or bathed in days, Susan hated to see him like this.
If he ate at all it wasn't at home. He was gaunt, his look haunted, and those beautiful blue eyes were lusterless, red rimmed, and watery.
Whether from drinking or crying, Susan didn't know.
"Where's your car?"
"No car," he mumbled, "sent me home in a cab."
"Who sent you home in a cab? Early, what's wrong? Tell me what happened!" Susan was starting to worry.
"Nothing, nothing at all," he slurred. "Everything's fine, just dandy and swell."
"You're drunk!"
"Nope! Correction! Was drunk! I'm fine now, just dandy and swell," Early said waving his finger at her, as though admonishing a naughty child.
"Oh God, Early! You can get fired for drinking at work."
"Nope!" the finger came up again, to make his point, "Jus' send me home inna cab." He tried to grin but it looked more like a grimace.
"They wouldn't fire me, I'm their best one. I can fix all their problems, just can't fix my own."
He popped the tab and took a huge gulp, puffing out his cheeks and holding his head back to let the cold liquid trickle down his throat.
He turned to leave.
