...Mike wore a wicked smile, a satisfied smile, as he spied Liz trembling. The loaded gun in her hand. The ultimate betrayal thrust upon her. Sudden and unplanned lust for security pulsing through her body. Her face wore a lifeless expression. It was confusion swallowed by a sudden spike of insanity. Temporary perhaps, but none the less fatal.
- - - - -
"After fifteen years, you've still got it, baby. That was the best fuck ever." Liz giggled as she wriggled her orgasmic-rich body against Mike's, chasing one last rush of pleasure.
"After fifteen years, I've still got YOU, baby. That's all I need for the best fuck ever." Mike's words were more than lust-induced pillow-talk. His words, and hers, were reflections of their most inner thoughts.
Their naked bodies merged as she slumped and collapsed atop him, absorbing his full thickness inside of her, awash in her juices and his cum. Passion rocked them asleep, still connected, their hearts beating as one.
As Liz drifted off, Mike whispered, "Happy anniversary, baby."
- - - - -
Seventeen years earlier, Mike had rescued Liz and her young daughter from their personal hell. She was at the end of her rope after a horrible string of events: orphaned at age 17 by the murder/suicide of her parents, raped at age 18 by her legal guardian and uncle, unwed mother of a child by rape at age 19, homeless and suicidal at age 20.
Mike had saved her; literally rescued both Liz and her young daughter, Mary. With life hanging in the balance, he had talked her down from the ledge. When social services told him there was no room at the inn, he went the extra mile and took her in.
Eyebrows raised when word spread within the precinct that his benevolent actions extended beyond a day or two. Although unorthodox, he was not in violation of any workforce policy or laws. He was single. So was she. It was initially nothing more than a gracious act of chivalry by an honorable man.
She appeared dirty, dingy and disheveled on that ledge. But a few days later, following a makeover gifted by Mike's sister, Liz's physical beauty was unleashed. The transformation was stunning. So much so that it triggered a change in course in Mike's plans. His offer to Liz became open-ended. She was welcome to stay as long as she wanted.
Two years later, their arrangement changed from "as long as you want" to "'till death do we part." Mike adopted Mary. Liz put her past behind her, most of it resolved, with random, seemingly insignificant bits and pieces buried here and there. Mary grew up knowing only Mike as her father, unaware of her cruel origins and past.
For over a decade, Mike & Liz enjoyed passion reserved only for soul-mates. More than ten years separated them in age, but their hearts were knit as one. The three of them, including their precocious, adorable, daughter, Mary, were a wonderful family.
If this were a fairy tale, they would have lived happily ever after. But it isn't, and they didn't. Life happened. Cruel, twisted, heart-wrenching life.
- - - - -
Within a few short months, Mary adapted to her new home. Liz enrolled in a couple of classes at the local Junior College. Mike was promoted to Sergeant.
The very first time they had fucked, it was magical. For months the undeniable desire was restrained by Mike's honorable character and Liz's struggles to gain her balance in this second-chance identity given her. But, they both wanted it. They both craved it.
Liz had just put Mary down for the night. Mike was watching TV. Liz was sitting across the room from him, reading for her American Lit class. There was nothing unusually erotic in her posture. She was wearing the same bedtime tee she normally wore. But this was where the fuse was lit.
For the umpteenth time, Mike enjoyed glances of her, his eyes darting from the TV to her body. As she flipped the pages, his eyes lingered on her longer and longer. She felt it. She liked it. The connection was unspoken, but swelling.
The light of the room danced on her blonde hair, flowed over her shoulders and down her tee, daring Mike's eyes to measure the curves of her braless form and admire her nipples that sat high on her 36c breasts. He secretly, discreetly, calculated the shape and size of her nipples poking against the soft, white, cotton fabric.
Her thin, cotton sweatpants hugged her flesh, as if eager to reveal the shapely curves from her hips to her calves. Each time she shifted in the chair, his eyes recalibrated. The spark that lit the fuse was unexpected, yet inevitable.
Mike got up to go to the kitchen and drank in the view of her as he walked past her. "Would you like something to drink?"
"A glass of ice water would be nice." She barely lifted her eyes from the pages of her book, hesitant to explore what even a brief second of eye contact might lead to.
Mike returned to her side. "Here you go." As he extended his arm with glass in hand, there was an accidental bump. There was a spill. A significant spill. A nipple revealing spill.
First she flinched. Then he apologized. Then in the awkward moment that followed, the fuse was lit. For just a microsecond, she hesitated to pull the cold, wet fabric away from her flesh, feeling the heat of his gaze. For just a microsecond, he openly admired the transparency of her tee, sensing her willingness to let time stand still.
The fuse was a short one. Within minutes they expertly, naturally, seamlessly wove together the passions of long, lost lovers with the animalistic, impulsive, lust-fueled explosion that comes with raw fucking. It was, by both of their accounts, "the best fuck ever."
- - - - -
Marriage did not lessen their passion. Repeatedly they got lost in the waves of pleasure that flooded over them with each new "best fuck ever". Sometimes in bed, but also in every room in the house. Sometimes at a hotel, but also when staying with friends on vacation. More than a few times in the car. It did not seem to matter where.
So it was no surprise that the final moment of celebration they shared on their fifteenth anniversary was "the best fuck ever." That it would be the last "best fuck ever" is what neither of them could ever have fathomed.
- - - - -
Although 39 and twice her age, Liz was often mistaken as Mary's sister. That Mary's college professor, who lived across the street from them, had mistaken Liz for Mary as she was on her morning jog was really nothing peculiar.
"Hello Mary," he chirped as he politely waved the morning newspaper curled up in his hand. It was an honest mistake. That Liz chose to stop, smile and politely let him know that she was flattered and he was mistaken was also an innocent action taken. Even the ensuing neighborly chat in his driveway, sharing a laugh at his expense, was nothing more than a proper, public, social exchange.
Professor Williams to Mary, Aaron was self-deprecating in his charm towards Liz saying, "The one time I remember a student's name off campus, look what happens." They both laughed.
The sweeping motion of his hand in sync with his words "look what happens" playfully introduced Liz's body to the equation. Innocent or not, it sparked something in him. It unconsciously engaged him with her form, her body, her curves, her amazing presence. This is when the fuse was lit. A long, slow-burning fuse.
- - - - -
Mike had been promoted to detective. He excelled, resulting in a difficult assignment. Long days, and nights, in combination with the highest level of security meant that he spent days at a time away from home. When he did get a break, it was only brief.
The assignment was long term. It took its toll. Liz was supportive, but increasingly weary of the changes it brought to their home. Mike was gone a lot, which she hated. When he was home, he often was distant, which she hated even more.
"It should be done by summer, baby," he told her, more with a tone of hope than conviction. His hopes would be dashed.
