The Professional

"Mr. Greaves, this is Captain Behar from the County Sheriff's Department. I'm afraid there's been an accident." Why would he be calling me about an accident back home? I looked up at the red stoplight, hoping it would turn green and that I could just drive away before I heard what he had to say next.

"Your father and stepmother were involved in a head-on collision this evening. I'm sorry, son, but neither of them survived." The light turned green, but I sat paralyzed by what I had just heard. I could not speak.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the distant voice said. Still I could not speak. A car behind me honked. I sat.

"Is there anyone I can call for you, son?" I thought of D.H. and finally I found my voice. The honking behind me became more insistent.

"No, thank you, Captain. Has my stepbrother been notified?"

"Yes, sir. He arrived on the scene and is with your parents' remains now. He asked that I call you." Two cars swerved around me and I watched their taillights recede as the signal turned red again.

"Um, thank you, Captain. Tell my stepbrother that I will be in touch." And I just hung up.

I turned the car and headed back to D.H.'s townhouse. When she answered the door, I burst into tears.

* * * * *

The next 10 days were a blur. Arrangements, lawyers, funerals, real estate agents, auctioneers, and people I hadn't seen for years. D.H. was always right there, by my side, supporting me, handling things. I honestly don't know how I would have made it without her. As executor my job was not complex; my father had executed a simple will that was very clear and instructive. My younger half-siblings were taken care of; I got a modest inheritance. D.H. guided me through the process, and soon I found myself back in D.C., back at my desk and my duties.

My first day back D.H. asked me if I wanted to come to her place that evening for a bite and some company. Again, I was grateful and agreed to come after we got off work. We left the office about 9:00 that evening, with loads of work still undone from our long absence. On the ride D.H. called and ordered Chinese to be delivered. Karl, who had paid his respects that morning, drove us in silence and dropped us at the curb in front of the townhouse.

"Thank you, Karl, that will be all for tonight," D.H. said as we got out of the car. She handed me her keys and I unlocked the door and followed her in. "Make us some drinks," D.H. said as she hung up coat. I'm going to go up and change."

I went to the bar and made myself a martini and her a Scotch, then clicked on the television and sat down, flicking through the channels until I found a rerun of Breaking Bad. D.H. came down and joined me on the couch and we sat in silence, sipping our drinks and watching Walter White outwit the big drug cartel.

Soon there was a knock on the door and our Chinese feast arrived. We ate and drank tea. I swear I dropped more food back on my plate than made it to my mouth each time I tried to take a bite with those chopsticks. But D.H. was insistent that I use them. "When in Rome...." she said. When dinner was done and the tray tables put away, she patted the cushion next to her, and said, "Come over here and sit next to me."

I kicked my shoes off and sat next to her. When I did she put her arm around me and pulled me to her.

"Come here," she said and pulled me towards her until I was resting my head against her breast. "We never really got any alone time together back home. So many people, so many things to do," she sighed. She began stroking my forehead. "I'm so sorry, Michael. Your father was a wonderful man."

"I can't really believe he's gone," I answered. "It just doesn't seem real." We sat like that for a while, watching television, her stroking my forehead, rubbing my temples, and me just snuggling into her. She was all I had now; I wasn't close with my half-siblings, being older and having gone off to college before they were teens. It might sound funny, but at that moment I felt truly loved and comforted. But as time went on, I was becoming less aware of her comfort and more aware of the curve of her breast against my cheek.

My hand had been laying in her lap, and I began to stroke the tops of her thighs very lightly. She was wearing a cotton robe with a sash holding it closed. I parted the robe and began rubbing her bare legs. I breathed deeply against her breast, smelling a faint hint of lilac. I wasn't sure if it was from her hair or her garment, but it smelled fresh and wonderful. I kissed her breast through the fabric as I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh.

"Michael, I'm not expecting that tonight," she said softly.

"I know," I replied. "But I want to. I don't know how else to repay you for all you've done for me. Plus, I've missed it."

"Oh, Michael," she said and kissed the top of my head.

I lifted my head and opened her robe. Rather than lay my head back down, I began kissing her breast through the sheer fabric of her nightie. I felt her nipple stiffen and I sucked it through the fabric, pulling it into my mouth. She rubbed my cheek as I lightly sucked and licked her nipple. With my other hand I pushed against the inside of her thigh, urging her to part her legs. When she did, I ran my hand up inside the robe and brushed the backs of my fingers lightly against her mound. She was shaved smooth, I could feel, and it sent a slight electric current down to my cock. It seemed that it had been forever since I had touched her, tasted her, brought her ecstasy. I suddenly longed for it.

I moved away from her and pulled the robe off her shoulders. I tugged up on her nightgown and she got the message, pulling her arms from her robe, then raising them above her head as she lifted herself off the couch. I pulled the nightie up and off her and immediately went back to her breasts, kissing and licking each, one by one. As I did, I cupped her mound and rubbed her with my entire palm, applying gentle pressure as I encased her vulva in my hand. Her nipples were rock hard, pointing out as I lashed at them with my tongue and sucked them into my mouth.

I could feel her wetness seeping out onto my palm, and I raised my hand and inserted a finger in her. She gasped as I did, then moaned as I buried it deep within her. She was wet. She had missed this as much as I had missed her. I withdrew my finger and began rubbing her entire vulva with my palm. She was slick now, and my skin slid against hers. She pushed against my hand and I buried a finger again in her. Again she gasped as it entered her, then groaned as I pushed it as far in as I could, my hand pressing hard against her pussy as I worked my finger in and up, up, trying to find her G-spot.

She took hold of my head with both hands and pushed me away gently. I didn't understand until she began turning and lay down on the couch, still holding my head in her hands. Then, with gentle pressure, she pushed my head down, down, down towards her tummy. Getting the message, I kissed her belly, then began tracing kisses down further until her wisp of pubic hair tickled my lips. Further down I kissed, until there was no more hair, just wet, slick skin. I took a long lick down one wet, puffy lip, then up the other. I lapped at her outer lips, smooth and slick from her flowing juices. Up one side, down the other, avoiding her slit and avoiding her clit. I breathed her in, tasting her, smelling her. Yes, she was all I had now, and this was how I showed my gratitude, how I showed my love.

I felt her hands on either side of my head again. She was becoming impatient, yearning for the touch of my tongue on her sensitive clitoris. She guided my face to the middle, and pressed her pelvis up as she guided my mouth up her wet slit to her clit. When my lips first brushed it, I could feel that it was perhaps more swollen than I had ever felt it. I brushed it with my lips once, then twice, her stickiness coating my lips as they lightly caressed her hard nub. With no warning I laid my tongue flat against her clit and gave one long, sensuous lick, from the back of my tongue to the tip, hesitating with the tip against her clit, wiggling, tickling, teasing her swollen, exposed nerve-endings. Again I took a long lick, and poised my index finger at her opening. Again I teased her clit with the tip of my tongue as I also teased her opening with the tip of my finger.

Then in one movement, I plunged my finger into her cunt and sucked her clit into my mouth, swirling it around my tongue. I felt her hands clamp my head, followed by the pressure of her thighs as she gushed an orgasm into my face, grinding her sex against my soaking mouth and nose as she came hard again and again. Even after the most powerful part of her orgasm subsided, I knew she was still having small aftershocks, as I felt her pussy walls spasm against my finger again and again as I brought her gently down, kissing her all around her sex, her belly, her thighs, as I slowly and gently moved my finger in and out, letting her come down little by little.

When I sensed that she was finally done, I lay my head on her belly and closed my eyes. I enjoyed her warmth. I enjoyed the closeness. After a bit she touched my head.

"Are you awake?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "I think I drifted off for a second, but yeah, I'm awake." I didn't want to move.

"We'd better get you home," she said. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us." I called a cab, and she saw me to the door.

"I'll always remember your father," she told me at the door. "He was very special to me, too, at one time in my life. I know how you feel about him, and I know how much it hurts you that he's gone. But remember, Michael, he'll always be with you, no matter where you are or what you do." I kissed her as I would have my step-mother and hugged her to me.

"I know," I said. "I know."

And with that, I put the loss of my parents behind me and looked again towards the future.