All in the Family (3 page)

Behind the door, the hallway was dark. She led him, still by the hand, down the hallway to the last door, apparently the only unoccupied room. As she had walked by each door, the sounds of primal pleasure quietly whispered through the space where the door met the floor. Each room held a different sound. At the room next to theirs, the sounds were louder. Perhaps someone had the same idea.

Inside the room, a large projector screen showed ads for different pornographic movies, even an ad for the store; it showed their large inventory of sex toys and flashed on the screen in bright, bold letters:
Special Order.
Loretta chuckled at that, special order, if we don’t have the right dildo for you, we can always order it.

Her male acquaintance closed the door quietly and pushed the lock button. He then put a five dollar bill into the machine and scrolled through page after page of pictures of porn scenes. As if his choice would matter. Loretta placed her hand on his and pushed the button.

“Let’s make our own,” she said with a mischievous smile. He smiled in return.

She dropped to her knees and unlatched his belt then slowly, teasingly, she unzipped his pants. Scratching her nails lightly over the skin at his waist, she slide his pants down, releasing his still growing member. She took him into her mouth, sucking hard, tasting him with her tongue, then into her throat, and she swallowed.

He had never had such an experienced woman on him before; he knew she would give him a treat. He nearly had to push her mouth from him. The way she worked her mouth felt like a slippery sheath, and she had him on the brink in minutes.

He pulled her up and kissed her deep; his tongue probing her mouth, tasting himself and not caring. What a prize he had stumbled upon. She put his hand under her now hiked skirt. No panties. He grew harder, she was beyond wet now. Her own juices flowed down her thighs. He turned her around, and she bent, pulling her skirt to give him a view and to grant easy, unrestrained access.

She moaned with pleasure to feel him that close behind her, to know what was coming next. She closed her eyes in anticipation. She longed to feel him slide deep inside.

She welcomed him; he entered her, deep.

* * * *

They had nearly concluded the tour of the house, the same house that Frank had seen several times over. Frank had always been the kind of man to rub it in. He could conjure trouble.

Frank took a step toward the door that led to the basement. “What’s behind this door?” He asked as if he had truly never seen the house before.

Herman had taken this grief for the last half hour as he took the man, his brother, the bastard, from room to room. Without hesitation, Frank had verbally ripped on every room in the house, from their sense of décor all the way down to the pull-knobs on the kitchen cabinets. After his verbal assault, he then told Herman what he would have done and how soon he may just tear it all down and restart because the terrible job that had been done already could not be undone.

All the abuse brought Herman’s blood to a boil, his face going a deep, crimson red.
How could this asshole stand here and belittle me like this?
He thought. If only our parents were still alive, father would never approve of this. He would show Frank a thing or two. He would take the belt to him like their father used to. Herman’s mind raced now almost panicked.

He looked at the old, chipping white paint on the basement door. Maybe his place was a shit-hole, but it was his shit-hole. He turned the worn, once brass colored handle. The hinges cried as the door swung inward. He held out a hand to motion
after you
, and Frank looked at him as if he would have no other way. After Frank passed, he made faces and beat the air with his fists, wishing he could use them on the thick skull in front of him.

Once in the basement, Frank continued his oral degradation. “This place smells absolutely horrid. Don’t you ever clean up, look at all this junk on the floor and the ... dear God, how long have the walls been leaking?”

“A while,” Herman replied, looking at the far corner where a small pool of stagnant water had collected.

“Ridiculous, you should have called someone; for your own sake, called me.”

Herman stared at the back of his head in the dim light. He wanted, badly, to just smack his brother, just one good time, really let him have it.

“This place smells of rot and decay. Your floor is going to rot out from under you.”

“What difference does that make? You’re just going to buy it out from under me anyway, turn it into Frank’s Funhouse.” Herman was furious now. A rage had built inside of him the way animosity grows between nations, between brothers. That age old rage like that which had grown between Cain and Abel, the kind of rage that reverts the civil society to that primal instinct, kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. That was the rage that now boiled his blood, made it hot like fire. His veins burned and he felt powerful. His senses heightened, taking in all that the room had to offer, sound, scent and sight.

Then he saw it. He could use it; his mind worked up the images. On the workbench, it glinted in the light even through all the dirt and grime. It called to him.

The short-handled, eight pound sledge.

* * * *

The man behind her pumped harder and harder, forcing heavy breaths and moans from her. Well, she more forced the moans herself, but it seemed to satisfy him. Sweat poured profusely from them now; the temperature in the room had risen several degrees.

The images on the screen did nothing for her, but he kept turning his head to watch them and then back to her ass as he fondled it, groping and squeezing her soft, milky flesh in his palms. In the distance, the sounds of the other couple achieving orgasm broke through the thin paneling that divided rooms.

“Are you close?” He panted, nearly breathless. That was when she realized that all of this was about to be for naught, and that he would come and leave her still in need. She plunged her hand below, shoving her skirt out of the way.

“Hold out a minute, baby,” she said and then moaned as her fingers found her button.

* * * *

Herman had the sledge in hand now; he silently flipped it from side to side, admiring its worth. Though dingy, it still seemed to sparkle. He remembered the day he purchased it. He needed it to drive some stakes into the ground in the backyard as yard edging. It had been used for many things since then, even on Ralph, the old cocker spaniel that had to be put down. Herman owned no gun; he held to the belief that guns were for cowards.

His brother continued his spiel, but Herman had lost interest. Now he had found something that might alleviate his suffering, bring to an end this bitter rivalry between brothers, and fulfill this hatred that he held for his twin. Had it really come to this, to murder? How could it be? He knew, that yes, it had come to this. One could only take so much abuse before one snaps. Herman had been walking that tightrope for years.

He took another look at his brother; perhaps another peek would ease his mind and calm his nerves. His gaunt frame, his slick, black hair; and his annoying voice, still spilling abusive technical terms for what exactly was wrong with the house; no, that would not save him. This must happen.

Herman lifted the sledge high over his head.

* * * *

His breathing labored now, Loretta knew it was soon. She found it acceptable; it was soon for her as well. His thick member abusing her canal felt almost too good. Why did it have to end?

“Are you there?” His voice quaked as he panted.

“Yes! Come for me ... Now!” She arched her back and tensed, her muscles squeezing him, intensely caressing him, feeling his ridges and raised veins. He grunted hard as he started into blissful climax; his body shivered and began to quake. He pounded hard, driving deeper than before. His penis throbbed, and she felt the heat fill her. That heat only fueled her, and with her fingers quickly working, she achieved orgasm.

* * * *

Herman climaxed as well, the mere thought of what he waited so long to do sent him to the brink of madness, and the first hammer blow had sent him over. The excitement and release of tension sent vibrant feelings coursing through his nerves and shivering his muscles. His orgasm had spilled into his underwear; every hammer strike sent shock waves over him, like the intensity of sex. The first had released it, the second only kept it going and so on, until his entire being trembled so as he could no longer stand on his own.

He sat on the floor next to his now deceased brother. Frank’s skull, now nothing except brain matter and gore, lay spread out on the cool concrete floor. Blood slowly pooled nearby; Herman sat near the pool, still shuddering with aftershocks.

He laid his head back against the wooden leg of the workbench.
Even Loretta never made me feel like this,
he thought. Then he looked at his brother’s corpse. His face; or what was left of the mangled heap, stared back at him. Then it hit him hard. He saw his brother there as himself. He knew one day he too would die. The people who knew Frank, they would be looking for him to return soon, if not today, one day soon.

Then his mind conjured images of his youth. He saw the times that he and his brother had enjoyed. Pestering crayfish in their mud castles, squirrel hunting and skipping stones out by the lake; those were the days he enjoyed. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“What have I done?”

* * * *

Loretta thought the same thing. Of course, this was not her first time
stepping out
on her husband. She had enjoyed the company and love of many men since their marriage had began going downhill.

First, Herman began working odd shifts, home at strange times, but never the same time. It became a burden to make a schedule and get into a routine that way. Then, he quit paying her attention, depriving her of her most primal of needs, so she started fulfilling her lusts elsewhere. It started with innocent masturbation; a woman can masturbate, right? Then, it became a need. She masturbated every day. Sometimes several times a day, and then she found the adult toy shop. That started with the occasional, innocent browsing trip then she made purchases, and then she began paying to watch the porn in the back, even renting DVD’s to bring home. Her first time with a stranger came not long after that. The frumpy, short man with a short, bent penis had brought her no pleasure, but the excitement that she took away from that made her realize that she had needs, and those needs had to be met.

The next, was a business man. He said he was looking for a gag gift for his mother, but she knew that meant he was buying something for another woman. That held no significant meaning to her. She only wanted him for his meat, and he gave her that.

His penis was curved slightly, but thick and just what she needed. She enjoyed him just as she had enjoyed her most recent, in the back of the toy shop in the theater. She enjoyed his company for nearly an hour. The shop owner had come back to check on them at one point, but when she heard them in the throes of passion, decided to leave them alone. He had nearly gotten stuck in her, he swelled so large at the time of climax and her love hole was so small due to under-use or in her case under-abuse that the head did not want to come out. With some work and near the pain of childbirth, she removed herself from him. She had taken many more men by now, but she would always think of him when they were finished.

Now, she stood, steadying herself on the velvety bench seat, not thinking about what kind of bodily fluids stained the fabric. She looked at the man who had just left his seed inside her. He stood with his back to her. The curvature of his smooth back appealed to her. His short, neatly cropped hair trimmed just above the nape of his sweat covered neck. She felt the warmth of his come ooze down her leg.

He was dressing now. She watched him dress, pulling his shirt on over his hairless back and chest. He pulled his pants on one leg at a time. He turned to her and offered her a quick wink. She smiled, a fake smile, but he couldn’t tell the difference. He leaned forward and kissed her and thanked her for the good time.

Loretta didn’t look forward to the long walk from the shop to her house. She really hoped that she would have time to clean up and hide her new item before Herman made it home. As she walked, the wetness between her legs became more. She could feel it running down her legs, behind her knees and onto her socks. This was the part she always dreaded, the walk home. Not knowing if he was home or not; that was the stress that would turn her hair gray one day.

Her thighs were beginning to rub dry. She hoped they didn’t chaff before she could get home and clean up. Not only would chaffed thighs be unsightly, but they would become raw and tender.

Then, she saw a police car. In the driver’s seat sat the man who drove her deep seated fantasies. A cop! He munched a sandwich and stared straight ahead. His cruiser was parked in an alleyway, jutting out enough for him to see around the corner.

Loretta swallowed hard. Though she thought about the man often, she had never thought in a million years that she would run into him again. The fact that he was a public official made it even worse. Could she even be seen talking to him? She knew that her trek home would take her right past his car.
Maybe he won’t see me,
she thought.