Ginnys Wicked Resolve

Back by popular demand, Ginny relates a tale of sin and hopes for redemption in her own words. It's in three parts, so can be digested slowly. Read "Ginny Weds," and other of her earlier stories, as an introduction.

Part 1

The doorbell awakens me from an afternoon nap. Over in the crib my little daughter, Andi, sleeps peacefully. She still seems like a baby to me, though she's almost three. Her age hardly matters, however. She exhausts me! I feel like I'm 90, rather than 24. If I hadn't left Mike I'd probably not feel so sluggish all the time because I'd have his help. Well, that's the life of a single parent. You made the choice to leave your husband and file for divorce, I think to myself. My life's certainly changed – for better or worse – by many decisions I've made over the past few years.

I'd better get up and see if JJ needs me to do something. As I climb the stairs to the front door two floors up I hear his deep voice and a feminine giggle. The hair goes up on the back of my neck. Does he have a woman up there again? I wonder. As I round the last bend of stairs leading up to the top floor foyer in the beautiful new hillside house…sure enough! It's that damned UPS driver, Trisha, about to burst out of her tight brown shirt and shorts, squatting in front of my step-father-in-law, JJ, noisily sucking his cock.

I stop, peer around the corner, and her back is to me, while JJ faces me, looking down the top flight of steps with a blissful look on his face. "Aaahh…Jeezus…Trisha, your mouth is so hot!" he gasps, as both of them concentrate on their sinful labors. She moans and grasps the banisters on both sides so she won't fall backward down the stairs, and JJ's fingers weave softly through her beautiful, shoulder-length auburn hair. Behind him there's a parcel that Trisha has delivered, and beside the front door there's a stack of his outgoing business packages.

JJ sees me and opens his eyes widely. He's taken to working more in his home office since the baby and I moved in a couple of weeks ago, when I split from my husband, Mike. This is Trisha's last stop at the end of her delivery route on the way to the UPS parcel distribution center. So, lucky for JJ, she always has a few extra minutes to spend here, to…play. At one time I would've thought that their little game was super cool – when

I

was on the receiving end of his magnificent prick – but now I heartily disapprove of his philandering, and he knows it.

Aware that he's seen me, I look directly into his eyes and shake my head soundlessly, disgustedly, and turn to walk back downstairs. I hear him pant and groan, "Nngh, yeah!" several times, knowing that he's pumping his thick spunk into Trisha's mouth, as she mewls and smacks her lips around his big tool. For a moment I get a bit lightheaded and remember that paralyzing feeling of joy that I used to experience when he unloaded into my mouth, or anywhere in or on my body. I brace myself with one hand against the wall, closing my eyes as a feeling of dizziness washes over me, and I can almost taste his slick cum on my tongue. But, I put the evil thought out of my mind. I now believe in the Ten Commandments, and he's committing adultery again. I've recently become a devout Christian.

I hear the door close. JJ clears his throat and calls, "Ginny!?" I'm now one flight down on the second floor. I've retreated to just inside the master bedroom – where he and my mother-in-law, Lee, sleep – leaning forward over a two-sink vanity and looking at myself in its huge mirror, stifling an impulse to be sick. I feel like a wife who's caught her husband fucking his mistress. My heart is beating so hard I can almost hear it. My forehead is clammy from perspiration and I'm breathing shallowly and rapidly. My brow is furrowed and I tighten it to try to get rid of the wrinkles, since lines are beginning to form because of my constant tension and worry over the past three years. Yet…I have to admit that I'm extremely turned on by what I've just seen. My crotch is moist under my skirt and is wetting my panties.

"I'm here, JJ," I answer curtly, trying to sound angry but really attempting to stay calm.

"Sorry, baby," he whispers, wrapping me in his arms. "I'm just a guy who can't say no," he says, boyishly, paraphrasing the line from the old musical,

Oklahoma!

My face presses against his chest, I smell his virile male scent, and my knees feel weak.

I push away from him, knowing that I have little to say about his behavior, and say, sharply, "JJ, you're just an old dog!"

"Hey, easy on the

‘old'

. Besides, you used to love it," he responds, embarrassedly…half-apologetically.

"Well, how d'you think it makes me feel

now

?" I whine. "Mornings I hear you and Lee making love at dawn – this bedroom's right over mine, y'know! And every time you get a UPS package that slut Trisha either blows you or screws you…right in the house…with the baby downstairs!" I shrill.

"It's not Trisha's fault…

or

Lee's," he says, quietly assuming responsibility.

"I'm not so sure!" I bark, sounding more than a bit jealous...and frustrated by his immorality. The first time I'd witnessed Trisha's antics was just after we moved in. JJ had been standing two steps down on the upper stairway, and I watched his muscular butt drive his huge dick into the gorgeous, suntanned driver from behind, with her whining like a bitch in heat. From my stance on the stairs' lower landing, I'd seen her wet, pink pussy clamping around his angry prick as he boned her. The sight had made me nearly faint from desire. Of course, I expect him to have sex with my petite, attractive mother-in-law. It just makes me ashamed that I feel compelled to masturbate when I hear them, remembering that first year or more that I'd known JJ – before and after I'd married Mike – and how we'd fucked our brains out.

That first year I'd fallen in love with him. And, that's why – because of my new husband being hospitalized from a motorcycle accident on our wedding night – I'd chosen my 50-year-old father-in-law, on the spur of the moment, to be the father of my child, because I was ovulating and desperate to become pregnant. Well, I still love him, even though I stopped going to bed with him a while after I was married. And now I hurt terribly each time I discover one of his infidelities.

"Ginny, you've got to get out of your funk!" he admonishes. I look around at his big, king-sized marriage bed and, for a split second, I know that I could easily tempt him onto it and we'd be rutting away in a matter of minutes. We used to do stuff like that…before my religious turn of mind. I shudder, though, and drive the shameful thought from my head, especially since I'm now off the pill.

"JJ," I say. "How many times do I have to tell you that I've changed since I found Jesus?"

"And how many times do I have to say that I didn't know He was missing?" he retorts, sarcastically. "That religious bullshit is just a sop for people who can't think for themselves or are hiding from something, Ginny. You're smarter than that!"

I'm secretly flattered that JJ admires my intelligence, yet at the same time I feel so lost. I look up at him and my chin starts to quiver, signaling a need to cry in my helplessness. But I hear Andi cough in our room one floor down and I have to see to her. Thankful that I've been stopped from breaking into tears I say to JJ, "Uhh, I told Lee I'd fix dinner for us tonight, since she's got her woman's club meeting. I'll get the baby and meet you up in the kitchen."

A while later we're in the kitchen, with me in front of the stove, preparing the meal. Andi's playing in the dining room and I've closed off the stairs with a safety gate.

"So what's

really

pissing you off?" JJ asks, while leaning against the counter and sipping a glass of wine.

"Being wrong about Mike, mainly," I answer, being only half-truthful and wanting to disguise my jealousy…and my physical frustration. "He loves us – Andi and me – but he's still a kid. He can't hold down a job, he's obsessed with bike and car racing, and he's got a bad meth habit. Being a family man comes in a distant second. He's even done jail time, you know? Little stuff…for outstanding warrants."

"Yeah, I know," he says. "I've paid his bail." "And Lee tries to tell me he's irresponsible because of the mixed messages his father gave him when he was growing up – or his dyslexia – but I don't believe it. I think he's just spoiled rotten."

"You can't make Lee believe that," I assert. "Mothers are blind to their kids' faults. And

you

should talk. You spoil Andi terribly."

"Andrea's our daughter, Ginny," JJ says…very seriously. "Neither she, nor you, will ever get mixed messages from me. Just all the advantages I can provide."

"Is that why you built this beautiful house?" I ask.

"I've gotta admit that when you got pregnant I knew we'd need a bigger place," he says, "…so you, Mike and the baby could stay with us when you wanted."

"Betcha never thought I'd be living with you," I say, forcing a grin and feeling a buoyant sense of happiness at the thought…and the reality.

"True," he says, "but you've gotta realize how difficult it is for me to be around you a lot, and not…".

"Not fuck me?" I interrupt, crudely.

"Well…yeah. Yes, as a matter of fact!" he says, emphatically. "We had some great times a few years ago."

"They were fantastic, JJ," I say, "but I was turning into your own, private slut, and I hadn't a clue then about what ‘rough spots' were in a marriage." I was referring to my romantic, idealistic plan of nearly four years previously. I'd told JJ then that – through sex – he'd help me get over any difficulties I'd experience in my new marital partnership. But that's past history, I think to myself, as I change the subject. "Now, c'mon, let's eat, otherwise dinner'll get cold. Pour me a glass of wine? Please?"

Goodness, dinner without Lee is so nice! JJ and I'll be able to do this at least once a week! I think as we dine, again lapsing into a romantic fantasy. He insists on feeding Andi, using one of the silver spoons he's bought for her. I'm finished eating yet he's barely touched his dinner, and he coos and murmurs sweetly to the happy child – our blonde, blue-eyed baby who favors him – as he feeds her in the highchair. My heart is almost bursting with happiness as I watch them…and sip my third glass of wine…as she devours her dessert.

My father-in-law's so distinguished looking! He has all of his hair, sandy and graying at the temples, and the lines on his face smooth out as he baby talks with Andi. I fantasize momentarily that I'm his wife rather than his daughter-in-law, and that old, familiar, horny pang hits me in the pit of the stomach so hard that I gasp and have to clench my fists together, pressing them against my abdomen. I almost weep I'm so happy…and I want, irrationally, to take him to bed. Though grinning broadly, my eyes begin to moisten as reality prompts a sudden sadness.

He disturbs my reverie by asking, "So, you like the house?"

"Oh…yes," I say, distracted for a moment. Then, for lack of anything better, I ask, "But…what are those two locked doors on each of the downstairs floors, leading under the house, back toward the hill?"

"Well, twenty years ago engineers would have called this hillside lot un-buildable," he says. "I showed ‘em I could stack – suspend really – three stories on a steep…cliff, almost…and put all the utility equipment safely, out-of-sight, in underground vaults. Those doors lead to the mechanical equipment room down on the second floor, and a storage area further down on the third. The front door key fits ‘em both."

"I love the three fireplaces, especially the one in the entertainment room," I gush, feeling the wine loosen my tongue. An image of the two of us fucking in front of a roaring fire flashes through my tipsy brain and I put down my glass, saying, "Uhh…Andi's finished, JJ. Let me clean her up and put her to bed. Could you handle the dishes?"

"Sure, babe," he says, as we tend to our tasks. "See you in the TV room."

A half-hour later I join him to watch a movie on the tube. I've switched to water, and he's sipping a cognac. "Like the dinner?" I ask, fishing for a compliment.

"Delicious, honey, thanks! That dressing on the salad…and the olives in the pasta…were

magnifico

," he says. He sounds so much like my late father when he says that. I'm still a little tipsy from my wine, and a graphic, unpleasant memory of my Daddy molesting me as a young teen flashes through me. I wonder if my feelings for JJ are some weird psychological result of those sick adolescent experiences. I sit next to him on the sofa and tuck my legs under myself. I wear mostly jogging suits and sweats these days, since I remember my butt and legs used to drive him wild and I don't want to tempt him. So, with my body fully covered I put my elbow nearest him on the back of the couch, to avoid touching him, and watch the stupid horror movie he's put on. He's a true gentleman, of course, and I feel comfortable even though I'm sitting so close to him. He's apparently believed me when I've told him that I want to remain chaste.

"You know how this one ends?" he asks me, about the movie.

I shake my head in the negative.

"He's the personification of ‘Death,' and he murders her parents and boyfriend, then returns to the girl as her lover…in the body of her boyfriend," he explains. "Pretty grisly."

The movie continues and the heroine and villain are in bed, making love. "Are you sure this is R-rated?" I ask.

"They probably shot it ‘X', then cut it to ‘R' for theatres and TV," he says.

It sure looks like it to me, I think. Either that or she's an excellent actress. The camera captures their undulating bodies, then cuts to her face and upper torso, showing her writhing passionately. Watching them is making me very hot and I feel a stirring palpitation in my pussy. To stifle it, I lower my elbow and put my hands together, sliding them up between my legs to my vulva. Doing that makes me lean a little toward JJ's shoulder. We're still a few inches apart, though. The scene continues and I ask, uncomfortably, "How long is this gonna last?" I'm feeling a little embarrassed, since I'm now wet between my legs and the edges of my hands are pressing hard – twitching imperceptibly – against my mound.

"Watch for the climax," JJ whispers. "It's really gripping!"

The camera then pans to the guy's face and his handsome features change to reveal his murderous intent. He looks almost like a vampire, I think, and his hands move to her neck as she starts to reach orgasm. She begins a long, piercing scream and I can't watch anymore. I turn my head quickly and fall against JJ, burying my face in his chest…and my hands keep twitching, twitching, twitching through my pants, against my excited clit. He lifts his arm around my shoulder and holds me closely as the woman on the screen screams her last…a combination of sexual release and agonizing death throes.

I shriek too…very quietly, because I'm cumming. My body has taken over and my scream is muffled as I bite JJ on his pectoral, drooling all over his shirt, with him holding me tightly. I feel so warm…so protected…as his strong arm pulls me more closely against him. I'm overcome by his masculine odor and fill my lungs with it, gasping frantically for more. Finally, my climax begins to wane and my hips stop their trembling. I feel so

ashamed

, and just lean against him, shaking yet paralyzed from wondering what to do next…while secretly wanting to do a whole lot more. "I'm so sorry, JJ," I whimper, as I raise my lips to his neck.

"Was it good, honey?" he asks quietly.

"Ye…yeah," but…".

"Don't worry, baby," he says. "You just needed to release a little tension."

"Mmm, yeah." I'm so embarrassed! "But now I'd better clean up and go to bed," I say. "Andi'll be up at dawn and a shower always relaxes me inside." My stomach and bowels have been in an uproar for weeks, yet I haven't seen a doctor because I haven't been able to afford it. I push myself away from him, stand up, and see the long, prominent bulge at his groin. For a microsecond I hesitate, remembering how beautiful his naked erection is. I want so much to reach down and run my hand up and down the swelling. I take a step toward him, ready to straddle his lap, and my heart nearly stops. I can't do it! Instead, I exert a tremendous force of will…and lean over to him, bracing myself on his forearm, and kiss him on the cheek. "'Night, JJ." As I walk down to my room I know that I'm going to masturbate again in the shower…maybe even use my dildo, which I bought over a year ago. Then I'll say some prayers as I lean over my sleeping daughter…and maybe read some Psalms before falling asleep.

I do all of these things. In the shower I heat the dildo in very hot water so that it feels like JJ, and I close my eyes and envision him fucking me…unbelievably hard. In prayer I plea for absolution.

Part 2

The next morning, Friday, we eat breakfast early and Lee says, "Jay and I talked last night after I got home…about what to do with the house." They'd bought Mike and me our house – a "fixer upper" – that Mike had never fixed up though he'd promised to. Instead, he'd destroyed the backyard by putting in a motorcycle run, and in the front yard sat derelict cars, a tacky boat, an old trailer and scattered auto parts. One of the neighbors once snickered that it looked like a scene from that old TV show,

Sanford and Son

.

"I'll be home early and tell you about our plan," JJ tells me. "Gotta go to the office this morning, though."

I spent the morning vacuuming, dusting and washing windows in the huge house while my parents-in-law worked. It was too hot to wear sweats, so I just threw on a pair of denim shorts, a sleeveless, cropped top with no bra and some tennies, while covering my hair with a bandana. An attractive older lady living across the street came by and left a nice plant, explaining that she'd hoped to meet Jay and Lee's daughter-in-law. I told her who I was, introduced her to Andi, and she bubbled that she had two daughters of her own, unmarried and about my age, who visited every weekend. I'd seen the two young women in question and they were both stunning, shapely blondes. After the neighbor lady left I wondered if I'd have to keep an eye on JJ on Saturdays and Sundays…just in case her girls provided him with too much temptation.

"Hey, brown eyes!" JJ shouts to me, arriving home earlier than expected. He's surprised me as I'm bent over with my butt sticking out at him, finishing the vacuuming. I stand up, puffing, and switch off the machine. My face and shoulders glow with a sheen of perspiration. My breasts – grown larger by one cup size since having Andi – push out my top, their nipples pouting. "Wow! I haven't seen you dressed like that in ages! You look…mmm…great!" he says, as his piercing eyes scan my white tummy – which I've kept tight by exercising since having Andi – and, below my shorts, my bare, muscular, former ice skater's legs. He visually devours my frame, up and down. My pussy has always quivered when he's looked at me that way…just as it does now.

"Stop it, JJ, you old perv," I tease, smiling. "Did you eat lunch?" He nods, still eating me up with his gaze. "Okay, then, why not go down to your office? I'm almost finished. I'll shower and change and we can talk about the house then…if that's all right."

Half an hour later I'm downstairs in his home office, feeling refreshed. I've put Andi down for a nap and dressed in a green jogging suit. I've also fixed my strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail and put on some makeup…just to look nice for him. I sit at a respectful distance and am a bit anxious, preparing myself for…I don't know what.