SOUND ADVICE--Part 2 free porn video

I’m usually an early riser, but I’m not accustomed to falling asleep after three in the morning. I was awakened around 9:30 by the ringing phone. Twisting away from Sheila I reached for the phone on the night table. It was Joanne telling me that Sheila’s car was in the lot, but she hadn’t come in to work and wasn’t answering her phone. “I drove her home last night and told her to stay in bed all day today. I’m pretty sure she’ll be in on Monday. Just work as best you can. If there are any delays, just tell the customers that you’re shorthanded due to illness.” I had to stop to playfully swat Sheila’s head from my cock. “I’ll see you Monday morning. Call me if you run into any problems. I should be here all day.”

Looking down at Sheila I had to laugh. Her tongue was playing with my cock and it was responding big time to her efforts. “Looks like you have a one-track mind…just like me.” I pulled her up on her left side, her back to me as I pulled her leg back and over my body. I loved this position. Her moist cunt was completely open and accessible to me and I could easily worry her nipples with my left hand while rubbing, twisting, and pinching her clit with the other.
Sheila must have really wanted it because she gripped my cock and rubbed it into her slit then pulled it into her depths. The expression on her face when I bottomed out was incredible. It showed her love and her lust—her overwhelming need for me. Twisting her head around, she kissed me passionately, her tongue actively wrestling with mine. “Oh God, Michael,” she gasped when she broke it, “tell me you want to do this every day. I love it. You’re such a wonderful lover. Give it to me…harder…faster!”

I pounded her relentlessly as I rolled and pinched her nipple with one hand and twisted her clit with the other. Her first orgasm hit her hard. It was all I could do to keep her on my cock. I continued ramming into her, pinching her nipple and twisting her clit. I didn’t know if she was experiencing one huge and long orgasm or a series of short unending ones. All I knew was that she was thrashing wildly the entire time until—almost five minutes later—my cock erupted into her, drowning her womb with millions of sperm.

Sheila was still trembling when I turned her around to hold and caress her. I gently kissed her cheek, ear, and neck as she slowly came down from her high. My hands ran freely over her semi-comatose body. Finally, after almost twenty minutes she looked up to me and smiled. “I need to go.” I kissed her cheek once again and shooed her to the bathroom.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen. We can have some breakfast and decide what we want to do for the rest of the day--and, no—we can’t do that for the foreseeable future. I’m not Superman, you know.”

“You are in my eyes,” she giggled as she trotted off to the toilet. I walked down the hall, stopping to relieve myself in the guest bath. I had the Keurig warmed up and ready to go when Sheila slinked into the kitchen. I pulled a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and sugar from a cabinet and a few seconds later her mug of coffee was ready. Mine was done less than a minute later.

“Want breakfast or shall we wait and go out for lunch?”

“Which will be faster? I want to spend as much time as possible naked with you in bed….even if we can’t make love all the time”

“Hungry now?”

She grinned as she told me, “Yeah…but not for food.” I shook my head, but deep down inside me I was thanking my lucky stars for bringing Sheila to me. We finished our coffee and I led her back to the bed. We lay there for hours, me on my back and Sheila lying on my left side while we talked and talked. We spoke about our lives, what we had done and what we wanted to do. We shared our highs and our lows and when our growling stomachs forced us from bed I knew we were a couple…that we’d be together forever.

We went to lunch at a fine restaurant. I wasn’t at all surprised that we ordered the same drink—iced tea—and the same meal—chef’s salads. Nor was I surprised that we talked all the way through the meal. Sheila took me into her arms the very second I had locked the door once we were back home and kissed me with the same incredible passion she had shown last night. We stood, pressed together, our lips enmeshed for more than five minutes until Sheila broke it, took my hand, and led me once again down the hall to the bedroom.

I laughed when we walked in. We never did make the bed. The sheet and blanket were strewn across the bed and halfway onto the floor. Working together we had it in fair condition less than five minutes later then we worked together again to strip the clothes from our bodies.

We were patient with each other, beginning with kissing and touching. I touched her breasts, nipples, and pussy, of course. But I also touched every other part of her that I could reach, learning for the first time that touching her navel made her giggle uncontrollably.. Eventually, I climbed between her legs, but surprised her when I failed to move into her. Instead, I gripped each foot and gently kissed and sucked each toe. She squirmed beneath me in response. Only when she began to beg for it did I press forward, her ankles on my shoulders, to penetrate her.

We may have been new lovers, but we worked together like the movement of a fine Swiss watch, our bodies moving in perfect synchrony. We moved slowly as I pushed deep into her vault and Sheila rose each time to welcome me. If I wasn’t in love with Sheila when we began, I surely was by the time we ended more than twenty minutes later when I felt her body tense as her orgasm neared and erupted in a massive convulsion when it finally hit. My pressure on her clit held the orgasm for her until I was--at last--there. Six times I blew—thick ropes of slick white semen coating the walls of her womb and vagina. I released her legs and collapsed onto her body. She welcomed me again, holding me to her as our sweat mingled and pooled on her abdomen.

“I love you,” I whispered into her ear.

“I know. I didn’t know last night, but I know it now. You love me as much as I love you.” Then she shut up and kissed me again and again and again. We may have been new to each other as lovers, but we had worked very closely for more than three years. We had a level of mutual trust that many husbands and wives never found. Best of all, she was just the opposite of my greedy wife. Where Gail could never get enough, would never be satisfied--Sheila was grateful for anything she might earn. She never expected to be given anything, but always hoped she’d be able to find someone to love and some way to survive.

We stayed in bed just holding and loving each other until long after the sun had set then I pulled the blanket over us and we went to sleep in each other’s arms. I felt her stir around three and heard her use the toilet, but a minute later she was back in my arms. A brief kiss later we were back asleep. The sun shone brightly into the room by the time we roused ourselves. Sheila leaned down to kiss me then jumped from the bed to the bathroom. I joined her a few minutes later and we repeated our shower routine, taking plenty of time to kiss and grope each other.

We drove to Sheila’s apartment for some of her clothes which she placed carefully into what had once been Gail’s closet and dresser. All of her stuff had either been donated to charity or thrown into the trash months ago as I pushed her out of my life. I felt badly for my mother who had always told me that she loved Gail. However, in retrospect, I had thought recently that she had told me that too often to actually be real. Her mother? I couldn’t possibly care less. She had hated me from the moment I met her until the very end, even insisting recently that I had killed her daughter. She had telephoned our local police so often that they eventually refused to speak with her. Taking the drug had been the critical part of my plan; because of that I was never a suspect. As a pillar of the community I was above suspicion and when one really thought about it—what did I do that was wrong? I only did to them what they had planned for me. I thought that was totally fair.

Sheila never formally moved in with me, but brought a few clothes and personal items every day until her apartment was empty except for the furniture that had come with it. Sheila didn’t have much, but that would change once I was officially divorced.

We were together for almost a month when Ben phoned to ask me to dinner. “I hope you’re not going to fix me up again.”

“Well….”

“The reason I bring it up is that I’ll gladly come, but only if I can bring a date and I think we should get moving on the divorce.”

“A date? Anyone I know?”

“You might have met her in the pharmacy. She works for me and before you get any ideas…absolutely nothing happened until six months after Gail disappeared.” We chatted for a while until he assured me he’d have the papers for my signature later in the week.

I signed Friday morning then made one more stop before going to work. Sheila and I closed up, made the night deposit, and drove home. She walked in first and waited while I locked the door. I was on one knee when she turned around. “Now that the divorce is underway there’s no reason why I can’t propose. Ben tells me it’ll be six months maximum.”

“So?” She looked down with a smirk on her face.

“Gonna make me work for it, eh?”

“You bet! How often do you think something like this happens to a girl--especially a girl like me?”

“I’m only surprised you haven’t been asked before.” She gave me a look that told me everything. Of course, I already knew the reason—she was waiting for that someone special—until I became available. Looking up at her beautiful face, I smiled again as I drew the blue velvet box from my pocket and opened it.

“Oh my God!”

“This must be the longest and most dramatic proposal in recorded history. You don’t mind if I finish up so we can make love, do you? Sheila Erin Long, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife…” I was about to continue when Sheila stopped me.

“That’s long enough that I can tell our children how much you went on and on. Now…slip that beautiful ring on my finger and come up here and kiss me.” I had learned long ago as a child how to follow orders and I’d never followed any as eagerly as I did these. The ring had set me back more than forty thousand, and that was from a friend. The kiss was worth more than that and when we made it to the bedroom I collected with interest—three times. Then she offered me her ass!

I had to laugh—my poor cock was worn to a frazzle. “You picked a good time to make that offer,” I kidded her. “I’m about as useless as can be. Let’s just go to sleep, shall we?”

Sheila decided that we shouldn’t mention becoming engaged. “Let’s see if anyone notices my ring.”

“Damn, they’d have to be blind to miss that rock,” was my reply. It was a 3.5 carat blue-white brilliant-cut stone in a 14-karat yellow gold setting. I was pretty sure someone would notice and I was right.

Sheila wasn’t in the store more than five minutes when my two cashiers walked into the lab to tell me, “It’s about time. Really, Michael, it’s been so obvious about you two for months.” Then they walked over to see Sheila and her ring. I didn’t mind. It was early and there were no customers in the store. We had more than a dozen prescription refills that had been phoned in overnight. By noon the entire staff knew, even those who were off shift--so much for Sheila’s secret.

The week passed swiftly and Saturday—the day of Ben and Lisa’s dinner party—had arrived. Sheila was as nervous as hell—what to wear, what jewelry, what shoes? “It doesn’t matter, darling. Wear a burlap bag. You’ll still be the most beautiful woman there.” Eventually, I broke down and phoned Lisa then stepped back while she and Sheila spoke back and forth for almost half an hour.

We were out the door before six and I was right—Sheila was downright beautiful. She wore a cream-colored top with rows of sequins along the shoulders and neckline over a pair of skintight black Capri’s and three-inch black heels. For jewelry she wore a black onyx pendant I’d bought her for no reason whatsoever—just because I loved her. What made her really stand out was that she wore her hair down and loose. It hung in cascades all the way past her shoulder blades. I realized, perhaps for the millionth time, how lucky I was to have her.

Ben answered the door, said “Hi” and took the bottle of scotch from my hand, but he never saw me. His eyes never left Sheila, even when Lisa punched his shoulder, taking Sheila with her to the kitchen for what she called “girl talk.” All Ben could say when they were gone was, ”Wow!”

“I agree, good buddy—and yes, I will have a beer.” Ben and I were relaxing over a cold one on the deck when I next saw my love. She had a glass of wine and was engaged in an ongoing conversation with Lisa. Sheila had obviously made a good friend. The other two couples were colleagues from Ben’s firm. They may have been good lawyers, but, truthfully, I found them boring so I spent all my time with Ben, Lisa, and Sheila. We said our good-byes around 12:30.

“Well?” We were in the car and I had just backed out of Ben’s driveway.

“Lisa was great. Beth and Mary…okay. I liked Ben, but the other two guys need to get a life. All they did was talk shop.”

“I have to agree with you. Ben confided that he invited them to see if he could get them to loosen up a bit. I must tell you that Ben was quite taken with you. He told me I was a lucky man, but I already knew that.” Sheila leaned over the console to kiss my cheek. She caressed my neck all the way home.


CHAPTER 5

As Ben had predicted, the divorce went through without a hitch. I got everything—the house, the investments, the bank accounts, and—most importantly—the business. Now I was ready and able to go forward with the expansion I had wanted for some time. The drug store was essentially a single-width storefront that stood alone on Main Street just about at the end of the shopping district. With the store I had inherited the land—almost two acres. The parking lot at the right side of the store was at one end of the property so there was roughly an acre to the left. My plan was to construct a new and larger building, transfer all the goods to the new store, and demolish the old building to provide for more parking. That was the plan. The only question was—how much would it cost?

Ben and I met with an architect and reviewed what I wanted. Sheila had come along at my suggestion and she had several ideas that proved to be worthwhile. Now all I needed was a $400,000 mortgage. That proved to be easier than I had dreamed. Construction began in early August as Sheila and I started to make plans for our wedding. Then something happened that I thought might destroy everything between us.

I was on the store floor helping a customer find an over-the-counter medication for her warts when one of the cashiers approached to say that a gentleman wished to see me in private. I walked to the lab area where I saw a tall barrel-chested black man. He was extremely well dressed in a gold sharkskin suit, white silk shirt, and gold/brown striped silk tie in contrast to his ebony skin. One look at his shoes and I knew this guy was loaded. “You wished to see me? I’m Michael McCafferty.”

“Yes…please,” he replied in a deep baritone voice with an upper-crusty British accent. “I have some information to share with you, but it must be in the utmost privacy. Do you mind?” I shrugged my shoulders and turned to lead him to my office. Once there I showed him to the chair and sat behind my desk, opening my second desk drawer as a precaution.

“My name is Simon Odoyo. I have homes in many areas of Africa, but my primary residence is just outside Nairobi in Kenya. I know you have a pistol there in your drawer, Mr. McCafferty. Please feel free to place it on the desk if you wish, but I would greatly appreciate if you would not point it at me. Firearms have a nasty way of going off at the wrong time. I assure you that I mean you no harm, although I did expect to meet you roughly a year ago. Imagine my surprise when I opened my package and found Paul Sheridan and your wife instead. It was quite the shock, but a good one, indeed.

“You see…Paul worked for me making methamphetamine and refining heroin. I thought I was paying him extremely well to export the drugs to my organization in South America, but apparently not well enough. He began skimming me some seven years ago, selling more than ten percent to local criminals. Personally, I prefer to keep my drugs away from your DEA and FBI. They can be ruthlessly efficient and effective. Anyway, back to the topic so I don’t waste too much of your time.

“Paul had some twenty-eight million dollars stored at his laboratory, but he couldn’t spend much of it without arousing the suspicions of your IRS. My goodness, how this country loves initials! Thus, the plan to steal your pharmacy and use it to launder the money he had accumulated and would in the future. He and your charming wife were involved in a torrid affair for months as they planned your disposal and disappearance.

“I had all my funds removed from this country yesterday and you will hear on tonight’s news how a barn at a long-deserted farm caught fire and burned to the ground. I have flight reservations to New York this afternoon and from there to Nairobi. I will never again come here to the United States, nor will I have drugs manufactured here again. If you were to contact the police they would find only a successful businessman who is returning home after a brief vacation. There is no evidence that I’ve been involved in any wrongdoing whatsoever.

“Now…I want to show you your wife and Paul Sheridan as they are today.” He pulled a small laptop from his briefcase, typed in a few commands and pointed the screen toward me. I saw Gail naked, her pubic hair completely removed. Her nipples had been pierced as was her clitoris. There was a metal shield over it. “Yes…her clitoris is completely covered by that shield so she is unable to have an orgasm although I have conditioned her so she can have one, but only after a special sexual act.”

“Conditioned? Don’t you really mean tortured?”

“A rose by any other name…. You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to. Whatever…she now does whatever I tell her on command.” He tapped another key and the scene changed to show Gail sucking a huge black cock then taking it doggie style and, finally sucking and swallowing his semen.

“Pretty good…I could never get her to swallow like that. Yours?”

“Yes, although I don’t brag about it—it’s just a lucky combination of genes and I sometimes find having such a large organ a problem, especially when I have a partner I do not wish to hurt. I assure you that she does that and much more.” He tapped the keyboard again and I could see his shaft buried in her ass.

“I wouldn’t think she’d be able to handle something so big.”

“Then you should watch the next clip.” I sat amazed as I watched him don a rubber glove that went all the way to his elbow. A minute later his huge fist was buried in her butt. He fisted her for several minutes until she had an overwhelming orgasm. Seeing my reaction he spoke again, “Yes, that is the act I told you about. Her anus is so stretched out that she must have only soft food, but, then again, she cannot chew. She made the mistake of biting me early in her training.” I watched as the camera swung around to Gail’s head and she smiled. It was clear she didn’t have a tooth in her mouth.

“I heard all about your dream. The big ring through the septum was a wonderful idea. Be assured that both she and Sheridan have one. I find it most handy when I want either of them restrained or for punishment. Allow me to show you Paul now.”

He tapped in a few more commands and my former employee appeared on the screen. His head was totally bald. He had the same piercing on his nipples and I could see weights swinging from a chain that ran from ring to ring. His genitals were enclosed in a stainless steel cock cage. A close-up revealed the interior of the apparatus that surrounded his cock was covered with sharp metal points. “That cage never comes off. I applied super glue to the threads when I put him into it. I also removed his teeth, but I did his as a punishment for stealing from me and without anesthesia. I usually sell my slaves, but I plan to keep these two—your wife as my sex slave and your former employee as my toilet slave. Yes, I piss into his mouth every day.”

I had seen enough and rose. “I think you can find your way out of my store.” Opening the door, I stood aside to allow him to leave. He turned around to place the laptop into his briefcase and when he extended his hand to shake mine I stepped back to heft my pistol. He shrugged his shoulders and walked out of my store and out of my life, hopefully forever. I hadn’t given much thought to Gail or Paul. Even now I wasn’t so sure I was sorry to see their plight. That would have been me if I hadn’t tumbled onto their plan. I was just about to return my pistol to the drawer when I noticed two large manila envelopes on the chair. In one were multiple copies of official death certificates from Nairobi, Kenya for Gail McCafferty and Paul Sheridan. I knew that Paul had a million dollar policy on his life so now his wife Amy should be able to collect. In the other was a copy of The Daily Nation, an English language newspaper from Nairobi, dated about a month ago. The top story dealt with the identification of victims from the suicide bombing of a small tourist hotel by the terrorist group al-Shabaab. The bombing had occurred only a week after their disappearance from the U.S. Lacking power equipment, the debris had been removed bit by bit by hand labor over a period of nine months. No recognizable bodies had been recovered from the hotel’s total destruction, but identification had taken place through badly burned passports and other ID that had been discovered in the debris. Two Americans—Gail McCafferty and Paul Sheridan—were listed among the dead both from their passports and their names on the register. Apparently, Odoyo wasn’t entirely evil, after all.

None the less, I was deeply disturbed by his visit and was short with my staff, even Sheila, all afternoon. We were home just after five when I sat at the kitchen table. Sheila joined me then asked, “Going to tell me what the hell’s bothering you now?”

I looked up, hesitating before answering. “I don’t think we should have secrets from each other, but you’re not going to like what I have to tell you. The story I told about the day Gail and Paul disappeared wasn’t accurate. Did you see that black guy who wanted to meet with me earlier?”

“The gentleman in the gold suit?”

“He is no gentleman…believe me.” Then I told Sheila the entire story. She already knew about Gail not being able to look into my eyes during that morning’s sex. I continued to tell her about seeing Gail drug my coffee and pouring most of it into the sink. I carefully described my “playing unconscious” and how I overpowered Paul by striking him with the pistol. “Once he was out I pointed the pistol at Gail. She had been screaming, but fainted dead away in a second. Then I used the drug they intended for me, a synthetic derivative of curare we had discussed a few days earlier, on the two of them. When the pick-up team arrived I used the pistol to convince them to take Gail and Paul instead of me.

“That man was the slaver. Paul was also working for him making meth and heroin at some lab out in the country. He had been skimming for years and wanted the store so he could launder the millions he had accumulated.” I finished the story by describing the videos I had been shown. Sheila was furious by the time I had finished. I could see our relationship evaporating in her wrath.

I sat silently, waiting for her to speak—to respond to the lies I had told to the police and to everyone else, too. Venom poured from her mouth. “That fucking bitch…that fucking conniving bitch! She got exactly what she deserved. You had no choice. It was either them or you and it’s much better that it was them. I can understand how upset you are. C’mon, I have just what you need.” She stood and pulled me up with her, leading me to the bedroom. I followed like a zombie, that’s how much Odoyo’s visit had disturbed me.

Sheila did all the work, undressing me and then herself before pushing me back onto the bed. I was quite surprised at the ease in which she made me hard, considering my mood, but then Sheila had always been able to turn me on. She leaned down to kiss me then proceeded to lick her way down my body, tickling my navel before running her tongue all around my swollen organ.

Looking directly into my eyes she opened wide to take my balls into her mouth. It was something I could never have expected and would never have requested, but the sensation in my tender orbs was exquisite. Her tongue washed my sac for several minutes before releasing my balls one at a time with an audible “pop.”
She pounced on my cock like a lion on a zebra, licking and sucking fiercely, before taking the entire seven inches deep into her throat. I had been severely depressed when we were in the kitchen, but I’d never had much resistance to Sheila. Less than five minutes later I came, lifting my hips every time I ejaculated. To my surprise Sheila sucked down every drop. Once she had cleaned me completely she climbed back up my body, resting her head on my shoulder.
I held her tightly as I recovered. Eventually, I found the strength to speak. “I was terrified you’d hate me after what I did.”

Sheila lifted her head and caressed my cheek while she spoke, “What was the alternative, Michael? What would have happened if you let them go? If they were desperate enough to sell you into slavery what would they have done if they failed and went free? They would have found some way to kill you. I have no doubts about that…none at all. You did the only thing possible, but I do think it should remain our secret. I’m glad you told me, but I don’t think it wise to tell anyone else.”

“I need to see Amy and the sooner the better. She needs to have Paul’s death certificate. I’ve heard she’s having a tough time since his disappearance. I wonder if she had any idea they were carrying on. I know I didn’t.”

“Call her now and let’s see if we can go over there tomorrow morning.” She reached for the phone, handing it to me a second later. I still had Paul’s number in memory—why I’ll never know--but, then again, I still had Gail’s cell, too.

Amy answered almost immediately. After exchanging pleasantries she agreed to see Sheila and me at ten the following morning. I suggested we call out for a pizza and Sheila agreed. It was a bit late to start cooking and neither of us was much in the mood for a big meal. I slipped on a pair of running shorts to answer the door and carried the box to the kitchen, laughing when I saw Sheila standing there in her birthday suit. She pulled down my shorts then sat in my lap, squeezing my hard cock between us while we ate. When she dropped a small piece of sausage onto her breast she pushed it out, encouraging me to clean the area with my mouth. It became a game between us--Sheila getting into it so much that she eagerly wiped my cock with sausage and cheese. She spent almost as much time with my cock in her mouth as actual food.

It was a fun meal and, after all my worries, a relief. We finished eating, cleaned up, and retired to the tiny shower to wash up before making ourselves dirty all over again. We made love for hours. Okay…I’m physically unable to have intercourse—to fuck—for that long, but I can lick and suck with the best of them and I’ve been told that I have extremely talented fingers. All told I thought that Sheila came five or six times and I actually came once—twice if you count what happened before dinner—until we finally called it a night. I slept extremely well that night knowing that my love—my Sheila—was with me all the way.

We woke to the alarm at 8:30, showered again, and had a light breakfast before dressing and driving to see Amy Sheridan. Her house was on the other side of town in one of the newer moderately-priced housing developments. Paul and Amy had bought a three-bedroom ranch with a good-sized eat-in kitchen and two baths. Their back yard was fenced to hold their two young children safely. What a shame that Paul had been such a scumbag.

Amy showed us to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for each of us. “I wasn’t really expecting your call, Michael. I haven’t heard much from you since our spouses disappeared. I did hear that you were engaged…congratulations. That’s a lovely ring, Sheila.”

“Amy, what I have to say is difficult so I think I should just get to it. I had a visitor to the pharmacy yesterday from Kenya. He was an ambassador of sorts.”

“What does that mean—of sorts?”

“Essentially, that he wasn’t an official of the Kenyan government although he was on a humanitarian mission. He brought news of Paul and Gail.” I placed the newspaper in front of her, pointing to the article—Al-Shabaab Victims Finally Identified.

She read for a minute then looked up, a tear in her eye. “They were together?”

“Apparently…I’m sorry. It appears that they were ‘involved’ before their disappearance. That’s the only thing that makes sense, otherwise why go off together? The man also brought these.” I passed the copies of Paul’s Death Certificate across the table. “Now you’ll be able to collect on his insurance.”

“Oh, no—I had to let the policy lapse!”

“Their deaths occurred only a week or so after they left the U.S. I’ll bet the policy was in effect at that time. They went on the fifth and this article says the bombing was on the fourteenth. If the premium was paid for the month you should be okay. I’m sure the Kenyan government would support what’s in the paper. Do you have a copier...a computer printer that can copy?”

She did so I made a copy of the article and a copy of the Newspaper’s name and edition date for her to use. Amy thanked us as we left and I could see her making a beeline for the phone through the screen door as we walked back to the car. I had seen no reason to tell her about Paul’s drug manufacturing history. She was a decent woman who deserved a lot better than a scumbag like Paul Sheridan. We were on the road again when Sheila asked, “Did you have life insurance on Gail?”

“Yeah…that’s where we’re going now. I want to speak with Gary Harmon. He’s the agent who sold me the policy. He’ll know how to collect. There are restrictions on things like suicide and being killed while a member of the Armed Forces, but I don’t recall seeing anything about random acts of terrorism.” Luckily, Gary was in his office. Sheila and I sat opposite him and I slid the twin envelopes across the desk.

“What are these, Michael?”

“Open them, Gary. I think they’re self explanatory…regarding Gail and her death.” Gary first removed the newspaper and skimmed the story.

“Looking up he commented, “Damn…I’m sorry.”

“Truthfully, Gary—I’m not. She drugged me and vanished without a trace and now it looks like she and Paul had an affair before they took off together. The other envelope has copies of her Death Certificate.”

“Okay, I’ll get the ball rolling. There shouldn’t be a problem, but I’m sure they’ll want to check with the government in Nairobi for confirmation. That’s routine when deaths occur outside our borders. I should have news for you in a week or less. Damn…an affair with Paul Sheridan—does Amy know?”

“Yeah, I had to tell her. We just came from her place. I know that Paul had a million dollar policy on his life.” I said good-bye and led Sheila back to my car.

“Michael, may I ask how much insurance you had on Gail?”

“Five hundred thousand; I have the same amount on mine. I’ve already changed the beneficiary. Do I have to be concerned about you? Will I be safe sleeping with you?” I turned to face her with a grin on my face. The expression on hers told me what she thought of my lame attempt at humor.

“Then you should be able to pay off your mortgage on the new building.”

“I discussed the whole issue of the mortgage with Eileen Curry, our accountant, and she suggested that we keep the mortgage for tax purposes. The entire amount—principal and interest—will be deductible as business expenses. That’s forty thousand a year for fifteen years. I could never get that much any other way.”

“Then…please don’t be angry with me—could we look for another house. The one we’re in was yours and Gail’s. I love being with you, but I’d like to have a big family and it’s too small and….”

I squeezed her hand and grinned. I could never deny Sheila and I’d wanted a family for years. “You convinced me. Why don’t we see a realtor right now? We don’t have to be at work until two this afternoon. Okay?” She leaned across the console to kiss me and away we went. Steve Kelly was a fellow Kiwanian. He greeted me warmly then began a series of questions about my income, how much house we wanted, school districts, and a host of other questions I hadn’t anticipated. I was happy to sit back and let Sheila take the lead. We had been there almost half an hour before he showed us photos of several houses, all of which had at least four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and large lots. I arranged for an appraisal of my current house and Steve told me he’d come by Saturday morning to give us some tips on getting it ready to sell.

Sheila and I looked at several homes over the next week and they were all great—a minimum of four bedrooms and more than one had the potential for expansion in the attic—but the one we both liked the best was right next door to my buddy Ben. Sheila was even more enthusiastic than I was. Since their initial meeting Lisa and Sheila had become fast friends, often meeting for coffee or lunch. All the same I felt we should ask how they’d feel having us as neighbors. Sheila invited Lisa and Ben to dinner. We had something else to ask them, too.

They arrived at six and I swear that Ben had the same bottle of scotch as a gift that I had given him at his party. I served drinks on the deck. After the first toast I shared the information on Gail and Paul.

“God, Mike—that’s terrible--an affair between them, probably for months before they left. It’s hard to believe they could be so callous.”

“It’s actually much worse, but what I’m going to say can’t go any farther than the four of us. According to the man who met with me Paul was involved in manufacturing drugs—meth and heroin—for him to sell in South America. Remember that big barn fire back in June? That was supposed to be the site of the lab. My visitor told me about the fire before it even started so I assume that everything he told me was true. Paul also skimmed the guy, not that I give a damn about him, but he sold that shit to local criminals and accumulated millions. Remember when he tried to buy the pharmacy from me? The theory is that he wanted it to launder the millions he had accumulated.”

“That’s disgusting. Pharmacists make a lot of money. It’s hard to believe he would need to do that.”

“I agree, Ben. I suspect it’s more an issue of morality, or maybe I should say amorality. I was paying Paul a hundred and fifty thousand for a forty hour week, full family benefits, and a month of paid vacation. That should have been enough.”

“That’s more than a senior associate with my firm makes and they work at least seventy hours a week. Let’s face it—no matter the profession some people are just sleaze balls.”

“Can we change the subject to something more pleasant,” Sheila asked. “Michael and I want to get married on Saturday, September 17th. That’s exactly six weeks from today. We have a caterer—Thor’s—and a place—here—and the best man and matron of honor, but we still need someone to marry us.” I could see the disappointment in Ben’s and Lisa’s eyes at that so I jumped in.

“We’d like our closest friends to stand with us. That’s you if you haven’t figured it out by now.”

“Yes, Lisa—I’d really love to have you with me.”

“Ben, you’re the only guy I know that I could trust with our rings. So…what do you say?”

“Yes,” was Lisa’s answer, “for both of us and I’ll bet you can get Ben’s dad to officiate.” She and Ben were both beaming as Ben told us about his father.

“Dad and I are both notaries. In this state notaries are considered county officials with the authority to perform marriages. I’ll ask him on Monday…okay?” Bottom line, his dad did agree once Ben assured him he and his wife would be invited. I knew he loved Thor’s, our area’s best prime steakhouse.

“Okay, now that’s out of the way we have something really important to ask you.” I could see their rapt attention. “We’re in the market for a bigger house. Sheila wants a big family. We have one in mind. It’s at 1352 Crescent Drive.”

Ben was silent for a few seconds then responded with a grin. “Damn, Mike—that’s right next door—old man Grissom’s place.”

“Right…so do you think we’d stay friends if we were so close by all the time?”

He laughed. “Do you have any idea what an asshole old man Grissom has been the past twelve years? He’s been fined for not mowing his lawn and for not shoveling snow. One time he had a bunch of roosters in his back yard just to wake the whole neighborhood up when he did. He’s been crazy for years. You’ve been crazy for as long as I’ve known you, but nothing like that. Right now I’d say you’re only crazy about Sheila.”

“Just think, Sheila—we could get together for coffee or lunch almost every day. I’d love to help you with the baby once it comes and you could help me if I can ever convince the legal beagle here.”

“Maybe,” Sheila responded with an evil grin, “you just have to practice as much as we do. I didn’t have any trouble convincing Michael, did I, Darling?” My response was to lean over for a quick kiss. We had a great time that night and Lisa proved to be much more than a great friend for Sheila. She literally spent weeks helping Sheila get ready for the wedding and the party to follow.

I had offered to buy Sheila a wedding gown, but she turned me down cold. “What a colossal waste of money; thousands of dollars for a dress that I’ll wear once.”

“You could save it for our daughters,” I suggested.

“No! I will buy a nice dress, but it will be something I can wear again. Also, I want you to buy a new navy suit. You and I can shop for one on Sunday. Lisa and I are going shopping for the dress next week. May I have the week off work?”

“What? We’re not even married and you’re already taking liberties?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll still take care of you when I get home.” She leaned across the kitchen table to give me a smoldering kiss. “We still have to practice for the big day.”

Sheila and I had been making love since our first day together so you’d think she was really progressive and liberal. However, nothing I could say would change her mind about getting pregnant before our wedding. She was still on the pill and would be right up to a week before our big day. “I don’t want any gossip or scandal, Michael. There will be plenty of both if we conceive before we’re married.” She refused to even listen when I told her she was being old-fashioned. “Maybe I am, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“Okay,” I told her as I held her tightly. “How about some of that practicing right now?”

“That I will agree to.” She moved back, but took my hand to lead me to the bedroom with a big grin where she had her way with me several times--reminding me that frequent practice was extremely important…and a lot of fun, too.

I hated shopping and I especially hated shopping for clothes, but what could I do? Hopefully, I’d be able to do all of it in a single day. I had thought we’d go out of town to the big mall, but—no, we drove to the next town to a menswear store Lisa had told Sheila about. I had to admit—it was good to get real service for a change. At six feet two I was almost a perfect 42 Regular, a fairly common size. They had an entire rack of suits including two in dark blue. I liked both of them, but Sheila put the kibosh on one. “It looks cheap,” she told me. I checked the price on the sleeve; boy, was she wrong! The damned cheap suit cost $729. I hesitated to ask what the other one cost.

She preferred the other and I did have to admit that it looked good on me. With some minor tailoring it would be perfect. Then I made the mistake of checking the price. The fucking suit cost almost a thousand bucks and I still needed a shirt, tie, socks, and shoes…oh yeah, and a belt. Thank God this was only going to be a one-time deal.

Sheila and Lisa spent the next week shopping and, although she wouldn’t give me any details about the dress other than it was a size 4, she did tell me I’d like it. Now we only had one thing left to do—visit my mom. Mom had retired at 62. Forty-plus years as a secretary had a terrible impact on her hands—arthritis and carpal tunnel syndrome--requiring surgery, physical therapy, and retirement. Her employer fought the workers’ comp claim, but I had Mom represented by a lawyer from Ben’s firm. He crucified the other side. Mom not only got her surgery, she also received a one-time payment as compensation for her injury. That fifty thousand dollars should have been really helpful when she decided to move to Florida and it would have been if only she’d followed my advice.

Now she was living in a retirement complex in a double-wide mobile home, although why they called it “mobile” was a mystery to me. It had license plates, but was up on pillars of concrete blocks with vinyl gratings between to keep small animals and snakes from going under the house. I phoned her on a Tuesday afternoon in late August. She was surprised; I phoned only occasionally. You’ll understand why in a bit.

“Hi’ Mom.”

“I don’t believe it. You actually called me.”

“You do know, don’t you Mom, that the phone goes both ways. You could phone me. I recall putting my home and business numbers into your speed dial.”
Completely ignoring me she continued, “Okay, what’s up? How’s Gail? She pregnant yet?”

“No, Mom—she’s not pregnant, but she’s part of the reason I’m coming down to see you. I’ll tell you everything when I get down there on Sunday. We’re planning on staying with you for three days and returning on Wednesday morning if that’s okay with you. Don’t plan on cooking. We’ll go out to eat. I have to run, Mom. I’m calling from the store and I’m the only pharmacist here.”

“What about Paul? Why don’t you let him do some of the work for a change?”

“Mom, I’ll tell you all about everything when we’re there. Bye.”

Of course I heard it from Sheila. “Why didn’t you tell her about me?”

“Because, darling, I’d have been on the phone for an hour…maybe longer and then I’d just have to do it all over again when we got there. Okay? Just trust me and remember that I love you.” She wasn’t thrilled at my explanation, but she was going with me to visit Mom on Sunday. We left our house early, before sunrise to catch our flight at 6:30 and arriving in West Palm Beach at 9:20. By the time we had ridden the shuttle to the rental car office and signed the papers it was after ten. I drove north on I-95, exiting at Stuart onto Florida-714 to US-1, undoubtedly the major commercial highway in eastern Florida. I pulled into the parking lot at Sonny’s Real Pit BBQ, one of my favorite places to eat in Florida, at just past 11:15. I’d first eaten at Sonny’s when I was a raw recruit in the Army. I’d never had BBQ of any kind, but my southern buddies loved it and before long I did, too.

It was Sheila’s first time so I gave her a few suggestions. “Just order for me, okay Michael? You know I trust you.” First I ordered two iced teas. They’re huge here, but Sheila would need it once she tried Sonny’s “Smoking” BBQ sauce. Next was all-you-can-eat sliced pork with fries and beans.

“Beans? I’ll be farting all day and night.”

“That’s okay—you’ll be in good company. These are really good with lots of barbecued pork and brown sugar.” I leaned across the table, but Sheila was too quick. In seconds she was seated next to me where she could kiss me and hold my hand. Once the food came she agreed quickly with my choices—even the beans. We left just before one for the remaining drive up Federal Highway—US-1—to Port Saint Lucie.

I held Sheila’s hand in my right and the manila envelope in my left as Sheila pushed the doorbell. Mom was clearly confused when she answered the door. “Who’s this, Michael? Where’s Gail?”

“I’ll explain once we’re inside, Mom,” and I did, telling her the same story I’d told everyone—everyone except Sheila who I trusted with my life. Even Mom who had loved Gail agreed that she was a colossal bitch. I went on to explain how Sheila had come to my rescue—okay, a slight deviation from the whole truth—and how we had fallen in love. “We’re getting married September 17th, Mom. It’ll be a small civil ceremony. Would you like to come? Sheila and I would love to have you join us.”

“You know I don’t fly, Michael. I get sick.”

I loved my mother, but sometimes she’s just impossible. I let the matter drop. Later, in bed I asked Sheila, “Understand a little better now why I didn’t try to explain on the phone? Mom lives in her own little world. Don’t be surprised if she calls you ‘Gail’ while we’re here.”

“Michael…are we going to be able to…you know?”

“I’m going to be extremely disappointed if we can’t. Mom’s a bit hard of hearing, but even if she can…so what? We are engaged. We’ll be married in another month and we’ve been living together and if those aren’t good enough reasons here’s the best one of all—I just don’t care.” As things turned out I wasn’t at all disappointed—not in the mornings and definitely not at night. And—yes—the beans did their work, much to Sheila’s embarrassment. I just laughed it off, knowing that we’d probably not see my mother again for more than a year.

We left for the airport around 10:30 and I doubted that Sheila was surprised when I pulled into Sonny’s parking lot an hour later. We had just ordered—sliced pork, fries, and beans with un-sweet tea when Sheila spoke. “Your mother doesn’t like me.”

“No, darling—it has nothing to do with you. She thinks I’m cheating her. There was no reason why she had to leave home for Florida, but she decided she just had to do it. I flew down here with her twice and she didn’t show any signs of airsickness either time. I bought her house, spending an extra twenty thousand because I wanted her to have top-notch carpeting, hurricane-resistant roofing, and the Florida Room instead of a screen porch that I thought would have limited use in the heat.

“She had a $50,000 worker’s comp payment because of the disability in both wrists. I told her to invest it in a no-load municipal bond fund, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she bought an annuity with a nine percent fee and a lousy taxable return. Then she wanted me to transfer the house and the car to her. I was just about to do it when she told me she intended to leave everything to the Monarch Butterfly Conservation Fund. I spent almost a hundred grand and she planned to give it away to some wacko charity.

“It gets better, too. Mom gets about $800 a month in Social Security and $280 from her annuity. The maintenance fee here is $375 a month and insurance for the house and car comes to almost another $350. That would leave only $355 a month for food, electricity, water, phone, cable, and miscellaneous expenses, not to mention registration and taxes on the property and car. I’m almost tempted to give her title to everything and watch her go broke, but I can’t. I have to put up with her negativity and attitude.”

“She’s still your mother and you’ve told me many times how she sacrificed when you were growing up.” I was about to respond when our food was served. Instead of talking we stuffed ourselves. We ordered an extra serving of sliced pork and Sheila surprised me by ordering an extra bowl of beans. I laughed when she explained, “These are the best beans I’ve ever eaten. They’re great…even if I have to sleep in one of the spare rooms.” That was never happening! An hour later we were in the airport waiting for our flight.

-->