Time was very important to Roger Graves. Time was money his father had drilled into him. And if toi had enough money toi could indulge him your heart's desires. Roger wasn't his real name and he wasn't rich but his tendencies were simple. Lightning lit up the medium priced motel room as one of his simple desires opened the bathroom door. The room of thunder announced the arrival of a towel wrapped Cornelia.
"I hate storms." The slim, twenty - an - old girl stated for the fifth time this evening. The rain had started as a douche turning quickly to a real gully - washer. Cornelia repositioned the towel confirming the fact she wore nothing underneath; she spent the past heure providing just how unfathomable that knowledge was.
"When are toi going to tell your wife about us? I hate sneaking around to see toi for an heure at a time." The towel dropped and she pulled on a pair of black dentelle panties.
"Cornnie, you'll keep on sneaking as long as I'm paying for your condo and those jewels toi like so much. My wife knows nothing about us and I fully intend to keep it that way. Now, get dressed and I'll drive toi home." The threat in his voice was unmistakable and Cornelia did like the condo, jewels and spending money; like the two hundred dollars he'd donné her tonight. She decided this wasn't the time to tell him about the doctor's visit and the news she was "in the family way" as her mother called being pregnant. The temperature had dropped in the room as well as outside as she finished dressing. The wind had increased in force during their tryst, greeting them when they left the room.
Roger was normally a careful driver but tonight the raven - haired renarde, vixen sitting suivant to him in a mini dress that kept rising up her thigh, distracted him. He took one hand off the steering wheel, letting it come to rest high on her inner thigh when the wind gust hit the car broadside. Roger's last thought before the car hit the arbre head on how much Cornelia hated storms. He never thought of his wife, waiting up at accueil for him.
Line Break
Part 2
Cassandra renard paced back and forth on the thick carpet. Her husband often stayed in the city when the weather was bad. A streak of lightning flashed in the darkened sky and the following thunder clap made her jump.
David usually called if he was going to be working late; there had been no call. All the warning signs were there: working late (and he had worked late often lately) and the lack of attention, both physical and emotional topped the list. Not for the first time, Cassandra wondered if there was another woman involved. And what would she do if she found out it was true?
The doorbell sounded hollow, reverberating through the quiet house. Cassandra fought the urge to laugh; if she did, she wasn't sure that she would be able to stop. Tightening her peignoir, robe she opened the door. A police officer stood in clear rain gear; a grim expression on his face.
"Mrs. Fox?"
"Y...yes?"
"There has been an accident..."
Cassandra became aware of two things simultaneously, that her peripheral vision was going black. She fell into growing blackness, only the quick actions of the police officer saved her from hitting the floor, and her life would never be the same.
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Part 3
Five years later, the jour after Christmas...
Cassandra had recovered from the fainting spell if not the shock from David's death. The life insurance David had conveniently provided had allowed her to live comfortably. She sat on the sofa, suivant to her daughter, Annie; the room was warm without being hot but sweat beaded her interest at cœur, coeur but what she asked was impossible. Subconsciously, Annie lifted her arm, a Kleenex wiping the way the offending wetness. "Please, Mom, come with us. It'll be fun." Annie repeated, reaching out to cover her mother's hand.
"Thank toi for asking but I don't think so. toi two go on and have fun." She referred to Annie and Jack, her son - in - law. "I want to get into a new mystery paperback I picked up today."
"You can read tomorrow. This is a one time concert and John had the tickets." Annie had always been like that, having an answer to every contingency.
"But I don't have anything to wear." An empty attempt to deflect Annie was correct of course. The blue dress was splendid even if it exposed plus cleavage than she was comfortable with but the châle could be used to block any fashion misadventure.
"Who are we going to see, if I decide to go." She had lost, best to just accept it.
"His name is Warren Webber. He does the old songs; he does country music." Annie accepted the offered defeat with grace.
"Well, that's settled. I guess I'd better get ready."
"It'll be fun, Mom. We'll pick toi up at five, have a nice dîner before going to the theater." The two women rose, hugging, relieved that the battle was over.
After showering, Cassandra did feel somewhat better about going out. At forty - five, she was no teenage girl getting ready for the prom; her blond hair was natural and she still curved in the right places, if not as dramatic as in her younger days. Maybe tonight would be fun after all.
"I hate storms." The slim, twenty - an - old girl stated for the fifth time this evening. The rain had started as a douche turning quickly to a real gully - washer. Cornelia repositioned the towel confirming the fact she wore nothing underneath; she spent the past heure providing just how unfathomable that knowledge was.
"When are toi going to tell your wife about us? I hate sneaking around to see toi for an heure at a time." The towel dropped and she pulled on a pair of black dentelle panties.
"Cornnie, you'll keep on sneaking as long as I'm paying for your condo and those jewels toi like so much. My wife knows nothing about us and I fully intend to keep it that way. Now, get dressed and I'll drive toi home." The threat in his voice was unmistakable and Cornelia did like the condo, jewels and spending money; like the two hundred dollars he'd donné her tonight. She decided this wasn't the time to tell him about the doctor's visit and the news she was "in the family way" as her mother called being pregnant. The temperature had dropped in the room as well as outside as she finished dressing. The wind had increased in force during their tryst, greeting them when they left the room.
Roger was normally a careful driver but tonight the raven - haired renarde, vixen sitting suivant to him in a mini dress that kept rising up her thigh, distracted him. He took one hand off the steering wheel, letting it come to rest high on her inner thigh when the wind gust hit the car broadside. Roger's last thought before the car hit the arbre head on how much Cornelia hated storms. He never thought of his wife, waiting up at accueil for him.
Line Break
Part 2
Cassandra renard paced back and forth on the thick carpet. Her husband often stayed in the city when the weather was bad. A streak of lightning flashed in the darkened sky and the following thunder clap made her jump.
David usually called if he was going to be working late; there had been no call. All the warning signs were there: working late (and he had worked late often lately) and the lack of attention, both physical and emotional topped the list. Not for the first time, Cassandra wondered if there was another woman involved. And what would she do if she found out it was true?
The doorbell sounded hollow, reverberating through the quiet house. Cassandra fought the urge to laugh; if she did, she wasn't sure that she would be able to stop. Tightening her peignoir, robe she opened the door. A police officer stood in clear rain gear; a grim expression on his face.
"Mrs. Fox?"
"Y...yes?"
"There has been an accident..."
Cassandra became aware of two things simultaneously, that her peripheral vision was going black. She fell into growing blackness, only the quick actions of the police officer saved her from hitting the floor, and her life would never be the same.
Line Break
Part 3
Five years later, the jour after Christmas...
Cassandra had recovered from the fainting spell if not the shock from David's death. The life insurance David had conveniently provided had allowed her to live comfortably. She sat on the sofa, suivant to her daughter, Annie; the room was warm without being hot but sweat beaded her interest at cœur, coeur but what she asked was impossible. Subconsciously, Annie lifted her arm, a Kleenex wiping the way the offending wetness. "Please, Mom, come with us. It'll be fun." Annie repeated, reaching out to cover her mother's hand.
"Thank toi for asking but I don't think so. toi two go on and have fun." She referred to Annie and Jack, her son - in - law. "I want to get into a new mystery paperback I picked up today."
"You can read tomorrow. This is a one time concert and John had the tickets." Annie had always been like that, having an answer to every contingency.
"But I don't have anything to wear." An empty attempt to deflect Annie was correct of course. The blue dress was splendid even if it exposed plus cleavage than she was comfortable with but the châle could be used to block any fashion misadventure.
"Who are we going to see, if I decide to go." She had lost, best to just accept it.
"His name is Warren Webber. He does the old songs; he does country music." Annie accepted the offered defeat with grace.
"Well, that's settled. I guess I'd better get ready."
"It'll be fun, Mom. We'll pick toi up at five, have a nice dîner before going to the theater." The two women rose, hugging, relieved that the battle was over.
After showering, Cassandra did feel somewhat better about going out. At forty - five, she was no teenage girl getting ready for the prom; her blond hair was natural and she still curved in the right places, if not as dramatic as in her younger days. Maybe tonight would be fun after all.