Her Lover's Touch, page 1
Her Lover's Touch
by Allen Dusk
Copyright © 2012 by Allen Dusk
Carnal Morgue Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Lightning splintered through turbulent black clouds. Thunder rumbled through vast rooms a split-second later. Volleys of hail hammered against Spanish tiles and clogged vintage gutters with perilous weight. Electricity filled the sky again, illuminating a woman's nude silhouette standing beside the master suite window. Panes of glass rattled from the explosion just outside.
The tallest tree near the driveway smoldered from the strike. Its once magnificent branches lay scattered around a fractured trunk. Howling winds ferried flaming leaves through the night.
"Oh well." Katelyn sighed, staring at the debris thrown about her once perfectly manicured lawn. "I suppose the gardeners will tend to that first thing in the morning."
She turned away from the drafty panes and walked toward her four-poster bed. The storm had wiped out power hours before, leaving her to rely on pillar candles scattered about the room to guide her through the darkness. Flickering wicks kissed her perfect, smooth skin with their golden auras. She grasped her hairbrush and began the tedious process of brushing her wavy, chestnut hair.
Katelyn glanced toward the nightstand. Her husband's blue eyes returned a yearning stare from within a scalloped frame. William should be there with her, warming her bare flesh and tending to the cravings only his body could ever fully satisfy. His lips were beautiful, sculpted with perfection beneath the silver accents of his mustache. Her forearm grazed her breast as she passed the heavy brush through her hair. Tingles chased the desire growing between her thighs.
Nobody would be home for hours; nobody ever was this time of night. The servants would be gone until morning and William often spent long hours in the operating room. He was the best plastic surgeon on the West Coast. When his skillful hands were not busy healing the afflicted, they were holding her, fondling her. Her fingers drifted down, followed her thin strip of pubic hair, and caressed the glistening, delicate folds of flesh between her legs.
Soft pink areolas tightened around firm, yearning nipples. She spread her legs wider to grant the brush access. The handle slipped inside her with ease, curling her toes with delight. Manicured nails softly tugged and twisted the engorged hood embellishing her clitoris. A flash of lightning cast her writhing shadow against the wall. Thunder rattled the vanity mirror as pleasure swelled inside her.
"Oh, God." White satin pillowcases muffled her moans. "William, I wish you were here with me."
Her frustrations mounted as ecstasy evaded her despite her growing appetite. She ground her fingers against her mound, but it was useless.
"Fuck!" She threw the brush across the room. It shattered a vase before tumbling into the shadows. She suckled the musky aroma from her sticky fingers, further fueling her irritation.
Katelyn rose off the bed and stared at her nude body in the mirror. She was the image of perfection. Every curve carefully sculpted by William's scalpel. Micro-scars were hidden from even the most intent lover's stare. She ran her hands over her firm breasts, jiggling the silicon within. She sank her thumbnails into her nipples and twisted until colored stars danced behind her eyes. Katelyn's attempt to extinguish her desire with a dose of pain failed miserably. The longing between her thighs refused to be doused. She knew she would never be able to sleep until she found her release.
Katelyn walked naked down the long, dark hallway. There was no need to carry a candle; she knew every inch of the mansion by heart. Frozen faces in painted classics admired her bare delicacy as she walked past.
She made her way to the stairs, descended their treacherous spiral with ease, and found her way into the kitchen. All the while, his face hovered in the darkness before her eyes. A cruel game of shadows played out in her imagination. Her self-confidence assured her nothing could be there. He was gone forever, and she knew it because she had watched every torrid drop of blood ooze from his throat.
Cheat on me? Your perfect wife? Rampant taunts echoed through her head. I taught you, didn't I? You son of a bitch.
She recounted every piece she had carved his body into, and cringed at the memory of every slimy organ packed into plastic trash bags. A chuckle ground its way up her throat when she remembered pouring his remains into the pig troughs at the farms outside of town. Every one of the creatures was desperate with hunger, which ensured there would be nothing left of her dear William for the authorities to discover.
Well, almost nothing. Katelyn's chuckle broke into a full cackle that echoed through the dining room before another clash of thunder drowned it out.
She had propped his head on the dashboard of his Mercedes. She had carved away his eyelids to allow a grand view of the descent after she released the brake. Butterflies had rioted in her guts when she watched the car plummet over the cliff and crash into the turbulent waves hundreds of feet below.
She had never known the full extent to which sorrow and joy could coexist until that moment. Her cackling descended into heartbroken howls and screams.
Smooth, pedicured feet paced the cool kitchen tiles. "If I had never found his other phone, it would have never come to this."
Katelyn twisted her fists in her hair and pulled between rants. "But I knew, even as I sawed your head away from your neck, that I would always miss you."
She turned toward the stainless-steel refrigerator and grinned. "That's precisely why I kept a souvenir."
She knew it would be safe in there. While power may have been out in the rest of the house, a small backup generator ensured there would be fresh water from the well and the food wouldn't spoil.
Anticipation gritted her teeth. Sweet juices drooled from her aching pussy. Katelyn grabbed the handle and opened the refrigerator door with a slow, fluid motion. Halogen lights arced, revealing barren surfaces except for the bundle wrapped tight with plastic resting on the bottom shelf. Tendrils of chilled vapors cascaded from the shelves, raising goose bumps across her flesh. She smiled as she leaned inside, grabbed the package, and tore it open.
Lightning sparked through kitchen windows. Katelyn left the door open and kneeled in the wedge of light reflecting across the floor. She marveled at the diamonds glimmering in the wide-set wedding band affixed to the ring ringer. Joints stiff with rigor swelled beneath pale, mottled skin. She raised the fingertips to her lips and kissed them one after the other. The stench of cold meat laced with cologne painted a sweet aphrodisia over her tongue.
She ran William's hand over her breasts. Her nipples stiffened into sore nubs from the frigid sensation. Tingles raced through her senses, sending spasms through her eager cunt and forcing her asshole to clench. She was too starved for release to endure any more foreplay. She slapped the hand against her clit. Her knees wobbled as the sound echoed off the cabinets.
Fierce winds howled outside and battered the storm windows with debris. Katelyn ground the severed hand against her pussy, summoning a deep moan from her throat. Her toes curled until they cramped from sick delight. Nectar oozed from her pussy, across bones and veins jiggling inside the ragged stump, before forming a small puddle on the floor. Inspired by the sight, she bent two twisted fingers
The storm swelled outside, blowing tiles from the roof, and shaking the fine art lining the mansion walls. Katelyn threw the hand to the side and replaced the dead fingers with her own. Nothing was in her way now. Finally, she could come with all the ferocity she had hungered for. She clawed at her pussy, tracing feverish circles around her thrilled clit.
"Fuck you, William!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. Cum jetted from her convulsing pussy as she writhed on the floor. "Fuck you."
Katelyn collapsed against the cool tiles, muscles deep inside her continued to twitch with delight. Her swollen clit throbbed and burned, even as a cool draft from the refrigerator drifted over her. Euphoria danced with rage and anger inside the lump creeping into her throat. Past the beating of her own heart, she heard the winds fading as the storm finally blew past.
Eventually she found the strength to stand. She picked up the hand and examined its state of decay. It probably wouldn't last another week.
Katelyn wrapped the hand back inside its plastic shroud carefully and decided it would be best to keep it inside the freezer for the next time a craving plagued her.
She poured herself a glass of merlot before she returned to bed for some much needed sleep. She left her cum drying on the floor. She knew the housekeepers would mop first thing in the morning.
William's grey beard tickled her stomach. His powerful hands pinned her hips against the mattress while his mouth glided down to feast on her pussy. Katelyn stared at the portrait on the wall. It could have been a Monet, an old wooden bridge arching over a lily pad-covered pond, but she wasn't sure.
She imagined herself walking naked over the bridge, her bare feet caressing the weathered surface of each board. As she stepped closer to the other side, every lick from her husband's tongue sent waves of pleasure rippling through her body, inching her closer to the point of no return. She looked back at her husband just as he rose onto his knees and slapped his hard cock against her pussy. It hurt, but in the way she always liked. Her back arched off the bed when he slid every throbbing inch of himself deep inside her.
She glanced at their reflection gyrating in the tall dressing mirror. If she stretched her neck at just the right angle, she could watch his balls slapping against her ass. She pulled her knees up to her chest and craned her head to soak in every detail of her penetration.
William's pace quickened, every thrust pounded her harder than the last. She had fucked him long enough to know he would soon have his grand finale. Her heart sank; he felt wonderful inside of her, but she was still a long way from finding her own plateau. Katelyn stared back at the portrait of the bridge and reached down to massage the frustration blossoming in her clit.
She imagined herself running toward the end of the bridge as fast as she could. Her hips thrashed against his and she rubbed herself furiously until her fingers grew numb. Inside her mind, she had almost reached the end of the bridge. Her perky breasts tightened beneath her firm nipples. Sweat burned its way through the corners of her eyes. A wave of pleasure finally surged inside her body.
"Fuck, I'm going to come all over you baby."
No, not yet! Her brain scrambled. "Baby, please just a bit more." Five more seconds and she was certain she would join him.
"I can't hold it any longer." He pulled out and spritzed her sweaty stomach with his thick load.
She was certain the abrupt end to their intercourse would kill her orgasm, but William's thumb quickly found her pouty, swollen clit and caressed it with tiny, rapid circles. His other hand slipped two fingers inside her hot slit to massage her g-spot. When his pinky wiggled its way into her ass, ecstasy exploded through her as if William had kick-started his Harley.
She reached out, clawing at the sheets and stared at the edge of the bridge. Each strategic touch from his hands sent joyful delirium coursing through every fluttering nerve fiber in her body.
"Oh god, William! Yes. Yes. Yes!"
Then her dream vanished. Her eyes popped open. Clammy sweat beaded between her breasts in the flickering light of the last lit candle. Orgasmic echoes continued to ravish her flesh before she realized that her lover was gone. Her head rocked from side to side; her hands still clutched the sheets, just as she had in the dream. Inexplicably, she was still coming, harder than ever before and something icy cold was stroking her between the legs.
Katelyn gasped and jumped back against the headboard, knees hugged tight against her chest. Her panic-filled eyes followed a lump gliding beneath the plush, down comforter.
What the hell is that? A swallow gulped past the fearful knot squeezed tight in her throat.
Her trembling hand reached out, grabbed the covers, and threw them over the footboard. The bed was empty, except for the large spot where her tingling pussy had soaked the sheets. She sighed with relief. Her pulse slowed and a sense of calm slowly eased her nerves.
She was about to crawl over and pick the bedding up, when a pair of frigid fingers glided up the center of her back, tracing every knobby contour along her spine. Mystical currents tickled the fine hairs along her arms, making them slowly stand on end. When the sensation reached the base of her neck, terror rippled through her shoulder blades, squeezing the breath from her before she could scream. Sharp fingernails grazed the tender flesh behind her ear, and then something grabbed a fistful of her hair.
Katelyn's head snapped back. Pain seared every follicle along her scalp. She threw her hands behind her head in an attempt to break free. She expected to feel a pair of hands assaulting her, but instead she found only tendrils of her own hair twisting themselves into knots. Freezing cramps locked her knuckles as if she had reached into a deep artic sea.
A frigid breath moaned in her ear. The tiny bones forming her eardrum twisted and shattered inside her skull. Splintering pain ignited like flashbulbs in the darkness. Katelyn screamed in agony, frantically clawing at her ear.
Warm, wetness blanketed her fingers. She pulled her hand away to stare at fresh crimson glistening in the candlelight. She touched her ear again, gently this time, and realized she could no longer hear.
A terrible noise saturated her other ear of thousands of fingernails raking down an unseen chalkboard. She clenched her teeth before screaming back at the unholy sound. The disharmony swelled, rattling everything in the room before quickly fading into silence.
Katelyn was unsure if she should breathe a sigh of relief. Clenched muscles trembled with anticipation of another unseen attack. A gentle wind whispered past the window. She whipped her head about the room, searching for any sign of who or what had just attacked her.
Soft words whispered through the breeze, repeating one word with a slow tempo. "Katelyn."
She jerked her head toward the window, wondering if that was where the voice came from, or if the new found handicap of being deaf in one ear was playing tricks on her perception. She strained to listen for more words but only heard the wind.
What the hell just happened? She struggled to contain the anxiety swarming inside her. Dizzy spells lulled her eyes against her wishes. She inhaled deeply, brought her hands up to her mouth, and blew a warm breath across them. Think, Kate, it's what you do best.
"Okay, okay." Nervous twitches tapped her fingers together.
She agreed with herself. She did have a knack for figuring things out, like planning parties and solving crosswords. That knack helped her first notice the odd times William came home, the random pages to his beeper, and the credit card charges to a florist for roses she never saw, but she was certain somebody else received. Her cunning helped her track the bitch down, devise a perfect murder scheme, and ensure that nobody would ever find a trace of them again. Nevertheless, there was one piece of evidence remaining that she suddenly fe
Katelyn slid off the bed and made a dash for a pair of jeans hanging over the chair in the corner. Gravity abruptly dragged her to the side. She stumbled like a drunk and caught herself against the dresser, nearly crashing headfirst into it. It took her a moment full of wondering to realize that having only one functioning eardrum meant she would need to struggle through every step to keep her balance.
She walked along the dresser, using its heavy oak construction to steady herself. When she reached the end, she took a small step away, leaving one hand on the edge to keep her balance. The jeans were not much further; maybe four steps at the most. She hesitated for a moment. Viscous fluid shifted in her eardrum. Soft winds blew past steamy windowpanes. She took another step, pulled her hand away from the dresser, and toppled over.
Naked flesh squeaked across hardwood floors. Tender surfaces burned from fresh wounds. Katelyn staggered onto her hands and knees. I'll crawl out of here if I fucking have to.
She reached out her hand. The seams of her dark denim jeans were just within reach of her French manicure. A frigid weight wrapped around her ankle.
A terrible shriek rang out from her lips. Her frantic eyes spun in their sockets. Her heart stopped when she noticed frozen finger marks indenting her soft skin. Nothing stood over her, yet her flesh tingled from its presence. She yanked her leg away from the sensation and turned back to grab her jeans. Swirling white mist enveloped her ankle and dragged her across the floor.
"No, let go of me!" She kicked and screamed.
The mist parted and quickly reformed despite her frantic efforts. It whipped her chest against the doorframe, silencing her cries with a bone-cracking thud. She struggled for breath against the spasms knotting through her lungs.
Portraits in the darkened hallway flashed past her. Bloody friction burns littered her back by the time her ass thumped down the first few stairs. She used all of her strength and coordination to prevent her head from crashing against the marble staircase while the invisible force dragged her toward the lower floor. Katelyn's head cracked against the metal edge of the last step. Her perfect white teeth cleaved her tongue. Panic-fueled blood coated her mouth with salty, copper warmth.