CHAPTER EIGHT
Jed
Am I a master of corruption? Yeah, probably. Because I fuck women and men both, what can I say? People who didn’t even know they liked dick before like it after they’ve had a taste of mine. Guilty, you ask? Naw, I never feel guilty. I consider it bringing out the best in my partners, helping them explore a part of them they didn’t even know existed.
But something’s different about the current situation. One, because Brian’s my law partner and best buddy from school. It’s not like he’s some random stranger I picked up at a bar, hot as fuck, a bareback cowboy. This is my business partner for crying out loud, our lives are intertwined financially, and if he goes down, then shit, I’m headed down the pipes as well. So yeah, this ain’t no male gigolo, some one night fuck for money. He’s the real thing.
And it’s doubly odd because I’ve avoided commitments my entire life. I’ve dated, I’ve gone out, I’ve hooked up, I’ve even “seen” women for a couple months at a time, but I’m not a relationship dude. It just never seemed necessary, there’s too much hot pussy and hard dick out there to sample. Why would you have only one dessert when you can have the entire feast? Why would you tie yourself down to one dick or one steaming cunt, when you can have a different one every night?
So it’s already incredible that I’m “married” to Brian via our law practice. We’ve been open a couple years, and like they say, dissolving a business partnership can be harder than a divorce sometimes. It’s that ugly, that time-consuming, and that fucking expensive.
But Brian is the right guy to have a practice with. I know him, and he’s honorable, fair-minded, and a good boss and a stellar lawyer. Too bad he’s also naïve sometimes, that bitch Hannah played him like violin, getting it on with all sorts of guys around town right under his nose. And I know, because of course, I was her first target.
“Hi,” she’d murmured flirtatiously, sashaying towards my desk. “Hi, how are you Jed?”
My dick jerked just as a biological response. Hannah’s not my type, she’s blonde and skinny but at the same time, cunt is cunt and I could smell it from a mile away.
“Hannah,” I said coldly. “What gives?”
“Oh nothing,” she said airily, sitting herself down in a chair. “Nothing, why?”
I snorted.
“Why the fuck are you here then?” I glared. “What the hell, you know your husband isn’t at the office right now.” Jed had a trial, he was downtown arguing his brains out, convincing the judge that his client wasn’t guilty. “He’ll be back at five,” I grunted.
But Hannah merely looked at me coyly, flipping a blonde curl over her shoulder.
“No it’s fine,” she breathed. “I came here to see you, Jed. Or more accurately, I wanted you to see something.”
I snorted again, shaking my head, she was so full of shit. But sometimes it’s easier to play along, just to let her do her thing and get it over with. That way I could get back to my work faster.
“What,” I grunted. “Make it quick.”
And never taking her eyes from mine, Hannah spread her knees. She was wearing a Basic Instinct-type skirt suit, paired with skinny stiletto heels, and internally I groaned. Because that movie was good yeah, but it’s turned every single woman into a Sharon Stone wannabe. You can’t imagine how many females have come into my office dying to reenact that famous scene, and how many times I’ve slipped my dick in with no problem. But right now, I didn’t want it. I sure as hell didn’t want to see that dry, wrinkly cunt, I didn’t want to see Hannah doing her impersonation of a viperous blonde, because it wouldn’t be an impersonation. It was her, through and through.
But there was nothing I could do to stop it. Never dropping my eyes, Hannah licked her finger lasciviously, winking and batting her eyelashes, and spread her knees more so that her skirt slipped up.
“How about it big guy?” she purred throatily. “How about it?”
But no answer was necessary because the cloth crept upwards, slowly, tantalizingly, until her pussy peeked out. Oh yeah, Hannah wasn’t wearing any underwear and those cunt lips made their appearance, glistening and moist.
But I’m a seasoned dude. I know the difference between truly hungry twat, and twat that’s just for show. And here, the shine was off. That’s right, Hannah had coated her pussy in Crisco before coming, she’d lubed herself up with some of the tough stuff to make it look like she was a dripping whore, but in real life, that pussy was dry and shriveled. I could see through the grease that coated her, I could tell that her labia were actually small and limp, that the woman was trying to create an optical illusion by slathering herself with cooking oil.
But Hannah didn’t stop there. Reaching between her nether lips, she pulled them apart to show me her insides, that folds spreading to reveal her hole.
“Oh yeah big boy,” she panted. “Like what you see?”
But if I was merely disgusted before, then I was completely repulsed now. Because instead of a beautiful hole, a honey pot dripping with sweet, female cream, the Crisco had coagulated in her vaginal opening. That’s right, instead of a thick, goopy mix, the cooking oil had become solid so it was like a plug in her pussy.
“Um, you’ve got a problem,” I grunted, lifting an eyebrow at the woman. “Soemthing’s stuck up there.”
Hannah ignored me, continuing to moan dramatically while holding herself open.
“That’s right, I want you stuck up there,” she panted, “I want you, Jed.”
But I shook my head in disgust, averting my eyes then.
“No, I mean whatever shit you have up there is a solid now. There’s some waxy substance inside, your pussy’s not hot enough,” I continued. “That shit probably melts if you’re aroused, but honey, I know you’re cold-blooded. That sweet cunt of yours is like ice and dry like sawdust, so it can’t melt whatever goop you put in yourself.”
Hannah snapped to then, looking down, eyes dawning with realization.
“Shit!” she cursed. “Shit, shit, shit, they told me this stuff only needed a low cooking temperature.”
“Yeah, but low as in stove-top low, not pussy heat low,” I ground out dryly. “You want a napkin or something?” I asked, holding out a box of tissues.
But the blonde ignored me. Instead, she poked her index finger between her legs, scooping the gunk out and then unceremoniously wiped it on the chair cushion, leaving a nasty stain. Shit, it was so gross, there was a huge lump of wax soiling my office furniture now and I groaned inside. This was gonna be an expensive dry cleaning bill. Or more likely, I was gonna have to toss this whole chair, it was too dirty and not even the most powerful cleaning chemicals could lift that stain.
But Hannah wasn’t even embarrassed at the fact that she’d been caught red-handed sticking Crisco up her puss, spreading her legs for her husband’s business partner. Nor was she embarrassed by the lump of goo inches away from her twat, what had been in her just moments before. Instead, she snapped her knees shut and turned to me, smiling that viperous smile once again.
“So what do you say, Jed?” she purred once more, this time unbuttoning her top. “What do you say?”
But before she could go further, I put a stop to it. Slamming my finger on the intercom button, I grunted, “Mrs. Cohen.”
Immediately, the elderly lady poked her head into my office.
“Yes, Mr. White?” she asked. “How can I help?” her voice was crisp and professional.
“Mrs. Jones just needed some help leaving,” I said, voice mild. “Could you come in and escort her?”
Immediately, my secretary let herself in, her matronly form a reassuring bulk.
“Mrs. Jones, so good to see you again,” she said. “If I could just show you the way? Did you bring a jacket?”
Hannah stood up abruptly then, shooting me an evil look.
“No, I’m good,” she tossed off, nose in the air as she picked up her thousand dollar purse. “I’m good.”
And like a queen, Hannah breezed outside like nothing was wrong except for the huge clump of Crisco still stuck to my chair, disgusting proof of her dry cunt.
“Thanks Mrs. Cohen,” I grunted. “If you could shut the door, I’d appreciate it.”
And with a knowing look, my secretary quietly closed the heavy oak slab, leaving me in the peace of my office. I looked around, still disbelieving. Holy shit, had that really happened? It wasn’t even that my law partner’s wife had come onto me, it was that her methods were beyond the pale, using cooking oil on her private parts and then baldly leaving the residue for me to clean up.
But shaking my head again, I just flicked on my computer. Hannah was Hannah, and I didn’t care what happened to her. I just wanted Brian to come out of this alive, he’d married badly and the poor sucker was being choked alive by the relationship, the energy being sucked out of his frame with each passing day.
So yeah, when Hannah died, I wasn’t exactly “sad.” There were parts of her that I’d seen, and they were rotted to the core. She was a human cesspool, and frankly, Brian’s better off without her. Because after her death, I told him about our fateful encounter and he was silent, staring down, expression unreadable.
“Yo, I’m sorry bro, but I’m not making this shit up. Your wife came into my office, and see that stain there?” I pointed to the striped chair. “That’s where it happened.”
I’d thought about chucking the furniture, but what the hell. It was evidence of his wife’s wily ways, and may as well keep it around, stashing the offensive couch in the corner so no one had to actually sit there.
The big man turned, staring at the chair before taking a deep breath.
“Okay, she was a ho, I get that,” he said tightly. “Many times over, trust me, I get it. But still, she was my wife. We need to pay our respects to the dead, there’s no sense in ditching her funeral.”
I shrugged.
“I feel fine as a no-show,” I said carelessly. “You should too.”
But Brian shook his head, face determined.
“Naw, the three of us need to be there. Me, you and Angie all, we need to be there so things don’t look off. I was her husband,” he said tightly. “You’re my law partner, and Angie’s her sister. Even if what we’re doing now is completely fucked up,” he said, referring to our trio. “We still need to pay our respects and make it look right. Even if it’s not right at all.”
I shrugged carelessly.
“Fine, I’ll show up,” I said. “To tie up loose ends if nothing else.”
Brian nodded tightly.
“Good,” he grunted. “The three of us are gonna be there, even if that woman disrespected me again and again, making me the laughingstock of town. Because you know what? I’m not gonna let her take me down. In death, I’m not gonna let that bitch take me down.”
And that’s what I love about Brian. He was under no obligation to do anything for Hannah. At this point, everyone knew that she’d been discovered at the club, nude, with the semen of a couple guys in her different orifices. Everyone knew that she’d been banging the tennis pro, and even worse, Hannah had probably been banging every single guy in town, anyone who had a penis, young, old, rich, poor, any dude with a stiffie. So no one would blame Brian for skipping out, his wife had been the village whore.
But Brian wasn’t gonna sink to such a low level. He was going to stand by her grave with his chin up, that big frame defying the whispers and gossip, and I admired him for it. No, I loved him for it. I loved that he was going to keep a good name, that he would show the appropriate respect for a dead woman, even if she was better off dead than alive.
So yeah, my feelings towards my law partner aren’t just about the physical, although I have to admit that he’s ungodly handsome in that black funeral suit. My feelings towards Brian are something else, something deep and moving that stirs my heart, and it shocks even me. It’s clear that I’m interested in his welfare, that I care about him, and that his well-being is fast becoming the most important thing in my life. Me, Jed White, no-good bastard caring about someone else? Yeah, it’s true.
And to make it even more complicated, I’m developing feelings for Abby too. Can you believe it? My law partner’s sister-in-law is making me catch “feelings.” I figured it was impossible at first, given that she’s all of eighteen years. Hell, what could an innocent naïf tempt me with? I’ve seen it all, done it all with hundreds, if not thousands of women.
But it’s partly the way she treats Brian, how she’s obviously hopelessly in love with her brother-in-law. I’m not sure how long that’s been going on, but from the way she tells it, years it seems like. And because I love anyone who adores my man, the brunette has endeared herself to me.
But even more, it’s also the way how Angie’s determined to show respect to her dead sister, putting on a black dress and bowing her head by Hannah’s grave while supporting her mom as Jane wailed. I guess I’m just so used to being a bastard, that my lovers’ show of humility and respect has awakened something deep inside that I didn’t even know existed. Angie and Brian have made me realize that there’s so much more to life than fucking women and having a good time while treating other people like shit. They’ve shown me there’s dignity in love, that you can be the better person, rising above any situation. Yeah, their determination to do the right thing by a dead woman has made me realize just how low I’ve sunk, how out of touch I am with true feeling and emotion. And by god, but I want to change. I want to be the better person as well because there is life and truth after death, with my lovers leading the way.