Candledim Ch 01

June 12th, 2004

Night covered the windows of Candledim. Jamie Winter ignored the temptation of the light downstairs and crept silently into Rose's bedroom. Candlelight, which had always seemed less bright in this place than in any other, gave the room even more shadows among the frills and lace. Rose waited for him here, always waited, and he could never keep away -- not as a gawky virgin teen, and not now, as a full-grown man. The things she did to him... He should be disgusted with himself.

Rose's black silk gown covered her from the lace neckline at her throat to the soft folds over her toes. Beneath it, she wore nothing. He knew that from previous experience. Shining black locks of hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her eyes, dark as demon shadow, gleamed. A soft blush of dusty rose over her cheeks made her appear alive, precious, and utterly beautiful in spite of her morbid color scheme.

"Jamison," she said. "I knew you could not stay away."

He couldn't speak. He could barely breathe.

Rose drifted closer. "You hate me," she whispered, and touched an exquisite finger to his chest. "And yet you cannot stay away. You amuse me."

"You ruined my life."

"Because of Robert?" A soft, gentle laugh echoed through the room. "He made love to you, poppet. He did not hurt you."

"I was a child."

"You enjoyed it until your brother told you it was wrong."

"Robert's dying." The admission made him smile, thinking it would hurt her.

"He's an old man." She looked, if possible, even more amused. "We all die sooner or later, but he still pleasures himself to the thought of what you did together."

"You made him that way."

"Yes," she said. "I did." Closer, she moved, and the top of her raven head came to Jamie's shoulder. She looked up and ran her tongue, a pink animal bent on murdering his sanity, along the fullest portion of her bottom lip. "And I have made you."

The gentlest touch of her fingers took away the breath he had left, forcing him to draw air deeply into his lungs before he could speak again. The fingers caressed, soothed and encouraged his arousal. Jamie hadn't the will to pull away. He never had the strength to leave, and had stood here innumerable times in the same situation. She slid to her knees and kept her eyes on his face, smiling her secretive, Mona Lisa smile. The zipper on his jeans rasped. Cool air greeted his cock. The tip of her tongue grazed it. Fleeting warmth turned cold. Jamie moaned.

Rose's lips surrounded the head, smooth, slick, and heated with triumph. Jamie's fingers tangled in her hair. Her tongue lapped at him like waves licking the shoreline of some deserted island. Liquid pictures, quicksilver and fleeting, passed through his mind. Her body, naked and glorious, spread out before him on the lacy bedspread. A close-up of her cunt -- black curling hairs outlined the shining red interior -- transposed to the image of Robert's cock, long, thin, and dangerous in the darkness of a private room.

Rose purred and suckled like a nursing child. Sharp fingernails raked against his skin as she tugged on the waistband of Jamie's jeans. He shuddered and pushed his hips forward. His balls snuggled up against his body; hard nuggets ready to explode. He pulled back and she grazed her teeth along the length of his cock until they met the ridge of the head. He shoved forward again. Her nails dug into his butt.

Jamie clenched her hair in fists so taut the knuckles turned white. "Bitch."

Rocking back on her knees, Rose touched his come on her cheeks -- and laughed.

---

Jamie strode down the main street of Blackwood, lost in dismal thought. Beside him, Aria moved with the grace of a dancer. Her gaudy, flowing skirts drifted around her legs in time with her steps. Jamie ignored her, although her presence warmed him. Across the street, the town's rose gardens bloomed peacefully.

"It happened again," Aria said after they'd covered more than a block.

"Yes."

She took his arm in one small hand and turned him to face her in the light of a street lamp. "You have to stop going there."

"I can't."

"Every time you go, you give her more power over you."

Jamie agreed, but he couldn't stop. Aria knew that, and it angered him she had no other advice to give. "Let's go inside." He turned toward the small apartment building in which she lived.

"No. I know what will happen in there and you'll never deal with this. Stay here." She tugged at him.

Jamie turned and waited.

"What is it you need from her you can't get from me?"

Good question. Rose provided danger, fear and lust all rolled into one dark package. Aria gave him sweetness, soft and forgiving. He'd never come in her face, or pull her hair until it came out at the roots. He couldn't, wouldn't hurt Aria, but he wanted to hurt Rose, and through Rose, Robert. "I can't explain it," he answered softly.

"She isn't real, Jamie."

"Let's go inside."

"No, I want you to promise me you'll come to me next time."

Jamie put an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. "I can't promise that." Lips touched lips. Aria's arms circled his waist, and she stretched her body to fit in a curved arch against him. The seductive lechery of Rose's kisses couldn't compare to Aria's innocent desire to please him. Jamie ran his hand over her back and curved it down to push her hips against his. "Inside," he whispered against her lips. "And we can talk afterward."

Apparently agreeing, she pulled away and moved gracefully up the steps. Jamie followed, swiftly shutting the apartment door behind them once they'd reached it. He turned, took her in his arms, and resumed kissing her. This time, he allowed his hand to move aside the elastic neckline of her peasant blouse.

Inside Aria's bedroom, a bed lined with stuffed animals waited. The childish décor outraged his sense of decency, so he'd never taken her in there. Always, they fucked in front of the apartment door or on the overstuffed couch in the next room. Jamie knelt, reached inside Aria's skirt, pulled the small silk panties down her thighs, over her feet, and tossed them on the floor. His fingers roamed, touched, caressed, and parted the lips of her cunt. Wetness covered his fingers. He stood and made his way to the couch.

Aria followed, stopping him before he sat down. A smile curled her lips as she pulled his T-shirt over his head. She ran her fingers over his chest, then tugged the button on his jeans. When he had nothing left to remove, she gave him a gentle push toward the couch and he settled into the comfort of the thick quilt that covered blue velvet cushions.

Aria's gauzy orange and red skirt drifted out and over his hips as she straddled him. The wet slit of her cunt rubbed against the underside of his cock. She leaned forward and kissed him, tracing the contours of his lips with her tongue. But no, he didn't want to be the passive one tonight. He wanted control. He needed to find the power he lost each time he visited Rose. "I want you naked." His voice came out in a harsh mimicry of his normal deep tone. Aria didn't pause, but stood again. Her eyes, deep green and troubled, read something in him that made her comply. She pulled her shirt over her head to reveal full, lush breasts tipped with reddened nipples. The skirts slithered to the floor.

Jamie drew her down, pushed her into place on her back, and parted her legs. His cock pointed toward the reddish hairs outlining her cunt. It moved in time with his heartbeat, a minute movement, visible only if he remained completely still, but he felt it deep in his balls. He placed the tip low, and used his hand to push it upward, between the lips until it rubbed against her clitoris. Up and down, he pushed it, exciting her, moistening her, and all the while he could see the remaining concern in her eyes. Almost, he stopped. Almost, he promised her he would seek her out first, but he couldn't. He wouldn't lie to her. That would be a betrayal she wouldn't accept. Jamie pressed the head of his cock down, found the entrance, and pushed it inside. Aria sighed. Her breasts rose and fell. He leaned on one hand and caressed a pink nipple with the other. "I want to watch you come."

The words changed the look in Aria's eyes, gave them the shine of arousal instead of the gleam of concern. "Make me come, then."

Slow, languid, he moved. Never deep, he toyed with her, forced her to want it, forced her to need it. Aria's hips began to rise and fall. She tried to capture him, pull him in deeper, but he kept control. Using his hand again, he pulled out and used the head of his cock to massage her clitoris, circling it until the moisture wore thin.

Aria's eyes closed. A small line of concentration appeared between her brows. Her fingers slipped over her belly and curled into the hairs between her legs. Jamie measured the closeness of her climax. All the while, he moved in languid rhythm, never giving her everything she needed.

"Aria," he whispered, and this time his voice came out in velvet depth, caressing and lustful.

Her eyes opened.

"Take your hand away."

Aria's fingers left a shining trail of moisture up her belly to her breast, where she stopped to caress a distended nipple.

Jamie leaned over her, kissed her lips, and pushed deeper with each lazy thrust. His chest trapped her hand between them. Soft, mewling kitten noises fluttered from Aria's lips. Each breath she released stuttered in her chest. Jamie kissed her again, using his tongue to imitate the motion of his cock. Laziness disappeared, and urgency spoke in each lunging thrust. "God, yes," he hissed, and pulled back, taking his weight on both hands. Swift, smooth, his cock slid in and out. Aria's circling added another dimension, side to side.

"I'm going to come," Aria murmured, watching his face. "And so are you."

Jamie diverted his gaze, unable to watch the brilliant lust in her eyes. Her breasts bounced against her ribs with each harsh lunge of his body. Flushed, they gave away the state of her arousal. Her hands wandered over his arms, his ribs, the flat of his stomach. "Come with me, Jamie," she whispered, gasping each word.

The first convulsion of her climax tightened her cunt. He had no choice but to come with her, spurting hard, feeling the surge deep in his balls.

It felt like dying.

---

Rose Mercy Hospital smelled of disinfectant and old people. Jamie passed the desk with a nod of acknowledgement toward the duty nurse and continued down the hall to his uncle's room. Robert had been here for the last six months, dying as slowly and inefficiently as he could. Jamie would have helped him along, but he had no intention of going to jail for murdering the monster everyone liked. Blackwood was a small town, and Robert held most of it in his rich, greedy hands. He had more connections than the Los Angeles airport.

The door to the room was closed to keep the hall light from irritating the patient. Jamie knew the real reason for the closed door, for Robert's hand seemed to be a constant companion to his cock, and it wasn't polite to show the world. The doctors said it was senility. Jamie knew otherwise.

Late night wasn't the time for visitors, but Jamie had always been a night person, and Robert left word that anyone could see him at any time. His doctor agreed, saying visits cheered the old man up no matter when they occurred. They cheered old Bob, all right. So did half the nurses in the place. Noting the dread of futility in his heart, Jamie opened the door.

Kelly stood beside the bed, clutching Robert's greased cock in her hand.

"I'm not surprised," Jamie muttered, and swiftly closed the door behind him. Her beautiful blue eyes looked guilty, but her hand kept pumping the old rod.

Robert laughed. It was an old man's wheezing cough of a laugh, but it sounded genuinely amused. "Look who dropped in for a quickie. Stop for a minute, Kelly. I'd like to make this one a group occasion."

"Not this time, Bob. What is it you wanted?" Keeping his place near the door, Jamie stuck his hands in his jeans pockets to hide the trembling. Kelly obediently stopped stroking, and stepped as far away from the bed as she could without eliciting a comment from the old man.

"Come here, boy. Sit down. I need to talk to you."

Reluctant to get anywhere near him, Jamie took the chair next to the bed. "About what?"

Robert sniffed. His eyes, folded and small with age, widened. "You've been to see her. Tonight? And there's another one, too..." He inhaled deeply, then coughed. "That little gypsy you've been fucking. No wonder you say no to Kelly's tender administrations. You're all tuckered out."

How he knew, Jamie could only guess, but his uncle always smelled sex on him. It excited the old man visibly. Robert's cock jumped and grew taut, jutting out from between his wasted thighs like a sightless snake. Disgusted, Jamie nodded.

"Then on to business. I'm going to die tonight."

The admission gave a short jolt to Jamie's heart. "When?" he asked, feigning indifference.

"After you've taken me out of this God-forsaken place. I want to die at Candledim, nowhere else."

"Blackmail? You won't die unless we take you out there?"

"Exactly."

Jamie stood. "I'll get your clothes."

"You're in an all-fired hurry to see me dead."

"Yes, I am." And it gave Jamie something to do other than stare at the thin, purple-headed cock waving in the breeze.

"It'll wait a few minutes, boy. Sit yourself down." The laughter came again, wheezing and disgustingly pathetic. "Kelly, come here and finish up. Then we can go."

"Jesus, Bob. Can't you stop for more than five minutes?"

"I don't need to stop now. I'm old, senile and dying. No one cares what I do anymore, as long as I'm comfortable."

"I'm sure Kelly cares."

The words were lost on the old man, who arched his skinny hips up so his cock met the greased fingers of his stepdaughter. Her fat bosom heaved in either a sob or a sigh. Jamie wasn't sure which, for her eyes had the dull look of guilt that overcame any other emotion. She'd tried so hard to escape, only to come running back when she needed money. Sad, pathetic, and disgusting -- the entire family was insane.

Kelly's plump hand moved like clockwork, and Jamie felt his heart beating with the same rhythm. He couldn't stop watching. The breathing in the room grew heavy, dense like fog on a windless night.

"Jamie's hard. I can see it in his face," Robert murmured.

Kelly turned her gaze toward Jamie, and he could only shrug. She stopped jerking her hand up and down, pausing as if she'd forgotten what she was doing.

Robert's voice was no longer the easy-going, old man's tone. "Keep going, Kelly. You know what will happen if you don't."

"Don't, Kelly. Just don't do it for him. What the hell can he do to you from his deathbed?"

"He's left Candledim to Evan. He won't change it unless I do what he wants now." Kelly stood next to the bed, plump, sorrowful, and yet her breasts heaved with the intensity swirling through the room. Her hand started up again.

"Can you imagine what Kelly's gangster son would do with the place? Rose would adore him." Robert grinned, in control again.

Jamie shuddered at the thought of young, seventeen-year-old Evan anywhere near Rose. She'd eat him alive, destroy him just as she'd destroyed the rest of the male members of the household.

"Come here, Jamie boy. If you humor me tonight, I'll give Crandell a call instead, and verify that you, Jamison, will get Candledim when I die."

Jamie moved, unable to care what Robert might do to him. It had started too long ago for him to stop it now. Robert opened Jamie's jeans with one hand and fished out Jamie's erection.

Arousal spread. It tightened Jamie's balls, lengthened his cock in the greased hollow of his uncle's hand, and made him close his eyes. He hated himself for it, hated Robert, hated even Kelly because she'd failed to escape so many years ago. Most of all, he hated Rose, who had corrupted Robert so thoroughly.

Robert's greased hand slid slow and easy. "Look at me, boy."

Jamie opened his eyes. His gaze locked to Robert's watery blue one. Kelly's breathing quickened. Jamie tore his eyes away from the mesmerizing effect of Robert's gaze and looked down. Robert's age-spotted hand jerked, quick and hard, around Jamie's thick cock, abusing it, hurting and yet pleasuring it. Both Kelly's hands had hold of Robert's thinner, longer version, and her entire body moved to the rhythm of her strokes. It would take too long to come, and the old man's cock would spurt first.

Jamie turned his head to stare straight into the demon's eyes. "Hurry up, Bob. Come in your baby girl's hands."

Robert grunted. Semen oozed over the top of Kelly's fingers. The hand around Jamie's cock tightened painfully, but stopped stroking.

"Put it away, Jamie," the old man said. "It's time to go home."

---

Rose waited for them in her room, still dressed in flowing black, patient as a stone. Jamie hung back at the door next to Kelly.

"Rose," Robert said, and seated himself on the bed. He'd struggled up the stairs to get here, and his chest heaved with the effort. Rose, smiling and gracious, began to undress him.

Jamie turned, ready to leave.

"Stay," Robert commanded.

Jamie sighed and turned back. "You have what you want."

"Not yet. Get undressed, both of you."

The brilliance in Robert's gaze made Jamie shudder, but he complied, stripping out of his T-shirt and jeans, trying to avoid staring at his cousin as she slid out of her clothing. Shy, Kelly believed herself to be ugly. Jamie disagreed, for he thought her plump breasts and belly gave her a female look a thinner woman didn't have.

Rose finished pulling Robert's jeans off his feet and settled him back against the pillows. She stood in the middle of the room, never losing her smile, and let the black gown drop to the floor. Her body, golden in candle light, gave off the scent of musk. Robert sniffed the air and grinned. The head of his dick rose from his thigh. He patted the bed beside him and turned his grin to his stepdaughter. "Lay down, Kelly -- on your back -- spread those fat legs."

Kelly obeyed like a wooden soldier. Jamie felt sorry for her, but held his tongue. It would be over tonight. One last time and it would be over.

"Get on top of her, Jamie." Robert shoved his fingers into Kelly's cunt. "She's wet already."

Rose smiled like a benevolent angel.