© 11/19/03 All rights reserved to author
Penelope Wright groaned as the alarm woke her up. She yawned herself awake thinking after last night, another five or six hours would be wonderful. She sighed as she stood and stretched and headed for the bathroom. Today was the day they would bury her husband. Everyone would feel sorry for her, thinking Christmas Eve what a day for sorrow. It was perfect weather for Christmas a light snow, crisp air she would need her furs and boots at the cemetary. She had to be perfect she knew everyone would be watching the fluffy headed widow and wondering what would happen now.
The trouble is she didn’t feel a pang of sorrow or regret over his death. She was glad the son of a bitch was gone. He had been a bastard. A man who used her body to get ahead whoring her out to anyone who wanted a free piece of ass. She stayed because one he had made it clear when he took her out of her Kentucky hills hovel of a home that he would put her right back there if she didn’t obey. He also regularly beat her until she pleaded to be allowed to serve his every need afraid he would kill her. She could have called the police. Police were to protect you, but it was 1955 and nobody believed that men like her esteemed husband did nasty things like beat their wives. Now she was free and rich. He must be turning over in his casket at the prospect of her and his money together at last.
Last night had been just the beginning; she stretched as the hot water of the shower beat against her deliciously ravished body unkinking tight well-used muscles. That Funeral Director certainly knew how to work out your anxieties. She had stayed late at the funeral parlor bidding her late husband’s associates and family goodbye. Finally alone with the staff they had gone over the plans for today.
The staff was having a Christmas party. Roland the Funeral Director brought her a plate of food and a large Scotch and soda and kept her company as she ate. She made sure that he sat close enough to smell her female arousal and to see the desire in her eyes. Twice she even collapsed against his broad muscled chest in tears so that he could comfort her. God how she needed to sweep the feel and taste of her late husband out of her system. She wasn’t sure he had received her message until he placed his large well-manicured hand high on her thigh as he asked a question. “Was it true what he had heard about how her husband had mistreated her.”
“Let me say that in twelve years of marriage I never made love to a man. I have fucked hundreds at Brett’s command usually with him watching and a hidden camera taking pictures. To do less would have been pain beyond your comprehension. He was a genius at coming up with painful punishments that left me unmarked where others would see.” She answered as she laid her hand lightly on his growing bulge.
Roland loosened his pants and smiled. As he pulled her from the sofa. “Take whatever comfort you can in my presence Penelope. I am here to help you through your grief.”
She slid down on her knees and lowered her head. The fall of her auburn hair hid her beautiful face and large luscious mouth as it encircled his hardening penis. He groaned as he reached to move her hair. This was to good not to watch and he had plans for her after he had climaxed.
He had heard of Brett’s wife who did anything and everything he told her. Mostly he used her as a business favor. Fear will encourage a woman to do almost anything. A truly submissive woman in the right hands will do it joyfully for love. Foolish man he had never understood the true beauty of a strong woman and her submission. He had held her through fear. Now Roland smiled he would hold her through desire.
That was his last cognoscent thought as her exquisite technique carried him away. He watched with half closed eyes as she swallowed him to the root of his ten-inch penis. The sight of his cock as it moved up and down inside her stretched delicate white throat was mind blowing to him. It finally took him over the hump and into full-blown climax. He came in several large spurts until she had drained him of all his essence. He sighed as she licked him clean and put him away.
“I hope you know I owe you an equal amount of pleasure lovely lady. However here is not the place or time. I don’t think you should drive tonight. I am going to drive you home and then we will pick you up in the morning.”
She nodded submissively and they had both just straightened up their clothes when the entrance of his younger brother followed a discreet knock on the door.
“Is everything ready for tomorrow Roland?” asked Matt sniffing quietly and wondering what he might have missed. He knew the odor of sex when he smelt it.
“Yes but Penelope has had a bad reaction to her scotch too much on an empty stomach so I am taking her home.” He reached and covered her shoulders with her fur-lined cape. “Please lock up down here and I will see you later.” He winked as he exited and whispered “Much later.’
Matt laughed silently they were indeed a full service funeral home and it was making them rich. “ Merry Christmas to you brother,” he said quietly.
Roland had forgotten that indeed it was almost Christmas Eve, with no family of his own it mattered little to him what holiday was happening his business never stopped for holidays. The two brothers seldom celebrated holidays on their regular days but took time off when possible and filled it with camaraderie when they played.
Roland liked pleasure. He drove a Porsche for pleasure. He handed her into the interior and went to the driver’s side. He was looking forward to showing her the paces of the car and what he had in store. He was also eager to hear her story and knew he would have her trust before the sun came up in the morning. He seldom wanted a woman but this woman needed him and he needed what she had. Not only her unbridled sexuality, but also the money that the estate of Brett Wright contained. Together they could found a dynasty and finally the last of his family would be safe. Like Penelope although he didn’t yet know it, he had come from dirt-poor people and had vowed never to return to that achingly miserable existence.