“I want you Adrian. You’re all I want, all I need. You and that hot cock of yours.”
She sat up and engulfed him in a sweaty hug. Her nipples pressed against his chest as her nails dug into his back. They made small scratches, but he didn’t care.
He ground his pelvis into her and she rolled her hips against him. Her hard clit was stimulated between their bodies as his shaft dug into her depths. The speed had now reached its maximum as they desperately bucked and thrashed against each other with an animalistic fury.
He slowed down, waiting for her to get closer to her climax. She nodded, letting him know she was close.
“Cum in me. I want you to shoot your seed into me.”
Unable to hold himself any longer, he let loose, spewing load after load of his seed deep inside her. She had an orgasm at the same time and her cum flowed around his hardness onto his pubic hair.
Karen screamed over and over again. Her vocal cords were strained to their limit and would leave her hoarse for a while, but she did not care.
This was the first time in her life she had someone worth screaming for.
He rolled off her and lay on his back, regaining his breath. She held her hand at the entrance of her spent vagina, unwilling to let his precious fluid seep out.
“Wow, that was a lot of cum. I could feel each burst as you emptied into me. So much lovely cum.”
“That’s right Karen. Adrian Carmichael, seminal legend.” * *
The expansive offices on the top floor of Griffin, Markham and Wiley were silent. The city’s top law firm catered only to the rich and famous, meaning they had few cases. But the few were all expensive.
Tom Markham sat in his office poring over a dubious contract signed in a moment of weakness by one of his clients. He cursed his luck as he found more and more potential loopholes their rivals could exploit. He knew he would eventually win the case, but he had not yet figured out how.
Manhattan’s most expensive lawyer was not be disturbed. His office line was disconnected.
He was jolted out of his concentration when he heard a phone ring. It was his private number, something only a select few people knew about. And the fact that they used it could not be good news.
“Tom Markham speaking.”
“Tom, it’s Karen,” said a desperate voice on the other end.
“Karen. What happened? Is your brother….” he didn’t have the heart to finish the question.
“No. Well, not yet anyway. I wanted your advice on how to overturn a court order granting medical custody of Adrian to someone else.”
She told him about her saga and he listened patiently taking down notes.
“My guess is they got a crooked judge, or maybe a dumb one, to sign the court order. No dearth of either kind in the city. We could appeal against it and move it through to a judge who owes me a favour. But….”
“But what Tom?”
“It will still take a long time. Especially in a case such as this where there is little legal precedent. I’ll see what I can do.”
Karen shut the phone and looked down at Adrian.
“Tom is on it. He’ll find a way. I know he will.”
“Your tone wasn’t so happy during the conversation,” said Adrian, seeing through her guise.
She was about to break down when he spoke up.
“Seeing you cry hurts me much more than this chemo ever could, Karen. I promise, I will take this pain and smile, if you will smile with me.”
She choked back the rest of her tears and forced a smile.
“That’s better, now put your hand back on my thigh. It felt nice there.”
“I never removed it,” she said, her surprise turning to horror.
Adrian could not feel her hand any more. He would never again feel anything from the waist down. * *
“I will not stand for this. Not under my roof.”
The bombastic voice of Victor Carmichael echoed throughout his expansive room. Adrian had just broken the news to him about his relationship.
“He is your step-brother, Karen. This is incest,” said Karen’s mother in a heavy tone.
“No it isn’t,” Karen angrily interjected, “Adrian and I are unrelated. I refuse to let your sham of a marriage come in the way of our love.”
“Don’t you speak to me like that,” came the sharp retort.
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” said Victor, fixing Adrian with an accusing glare.
Adrian was silent till then, standing quietly in the corner by himself. He walked up to Karen’s side and composed himself. Taking one look to his left to see the face he adored, he started.
“I love her and I am going to make her my wife. You don’t deserve her as a daughter-in-law, but such is life. We don’t always get what we deserve.”
A black anger built up inside Victor’s head. No one had stood up to him like this. Ever.
“No you won’t.”
“Why? Give me one good reason.”
“Because I forbid it. You are not to marry that tramp,” was the simple reply.
This caused something to snap inside Adrian. His face darkened and he let loose. Almost two decades of pent up anger at his father unleashed itself in a massive inferno of fiery rhetoric.
“TRAMP! YOU DARE CALL HER A TRAMP!”
He lunged and would have landed a punch had Karen not held onto his shirt with all her might.
“You of all people have no right to question relationships. Cheating on my Mom every single fucking day of her married life. Those women were tramps and you were nothing more than a dog in heat wearing a suit and tie, fucking whatever moved. And now you dare call her a tramp when the only tramp in this room is beside you?”
Alice rose to defend herself but Karen beat her to the word.
“Speak of the tramp and she rises. Do you even fucking know who my father is? The best guess you can offer is your third husband, but it could just as easily have been any of his three brothers, the Greek shipping magnate, the butler, the air force pilot or anybody on the board of directors in your darling hubby’s company. Tell me, did I miss anyone you were fucking at the time?”
Holding hands, the two of them stood in the centre of the room, before she spoke again.
“What Adrian and I have is love, an emotion that neither of you are capable of feeling. So do us a favour and get the fuck out of the way.”
“How dare you…” was all she managed before Victor cut her off.
“If you continue this relationship, the two of you will have hell to pay. You have no idea how far my influence goes. I have contacts in law enforcement and the justice department who will hunt you down and make your lives hell. Mark my words, you will never have a moment’s peace,” he said, with a satisfied grin, convinced that he had put paid to their dreams.
Karen turned to Adrian, with a smile writ large on her face. Adrian sheepishly took out a note from his pocket and gave it to her.
“Told you he wouldn’t listen to us first time round. These fine specimens need some more persuasion.”
“Yeah,” said Adrian ruefully, “I thought you were smarter than that, Dad. Guess I thought wrong. Now for Plan B.”
“Plan B,” said Alice, puzzled, “What’s going on here?”
“You explain to them, honey. It was your idea after all,” said Adrian, holding back his laughter.
“You’re too kind,” said Karen and kissed him on the cheek before continuing.
“That company that you gave Adrian for his last birthday, Kistler plc. It makes high end electrical devices like miniature cameras.”
The first hint of tension showed on his face.
“Adrian had some of them discreetly put in your manor in the countryside, and you’ll never guess what we saw.”
On cue, Adrian took out an envelope of pictures from his pocket. The colour drained from the married couple’s faces as they took the envelope with trembling hands and opened it.
“The camera takes a photo every 15 minutes. These were the highlights,” said Adrian, with a wide grin.
Victor dropped the photos in horrified surprise.
“Who would have thought the suave industrialist, fine-art connoisseur, entrepreneur extroardinaire Victor Carmichael liked dressing up in frilly laced thongs and fishnets while his wife made him jerk off for her viewing pleasure?” said Adrian, having waited ages for this moment.
Karen spoke up next.
“That wasn’t all. Turns out Victor’s wife likes the houseboy a LOT. And Victor likes watching them. We have such tantalizing shots of the three of you.”
Even as the Carmichaels shuffled through the stack of photos, aghast, the young couple smiled.
The parents were no longer a problem.
A couple of weeks later, the parents passed away in a sailing “accident”. A storm dragged their yacht into a small reef jutting out from the far side of the Hudson. They might have had a clearer view of it and been able to take evasive action had they not been staring at each other’s genitalia. The press lamented their deaths, but the tabloids had more fun with the rather feminine attire Victor was wearing, true to the end. * *
Karen’s eyes were red from the lack of sleep. Her head slumped to the side, but her hand steadfastly held onto his. Adrian slept most of the time now. Fatigue was heavy in every bone as she slouched in the chair, her body teetering on somnambulism.
The sound of the sliding glass door opening woke her up. A broad-grin and grey eyes met her gaze as she composed herself in her chair.
“Kurt?” she exclaimed as the tall, lanky man came closer to her.
Adrian had woken up at this sudden intrusion as well. He opened his eyes into narrow slits and surveyed his cousin from Boston.
“Kurt. Nice to see you made it.”
“Yeah. I came to see you. You don’t look so good,” he said with a thick accent.
“Yeah, no shit. These guys won’t even let me die in peace. Pumping me with triple the normal dose of chemo in a last ditch attempt. This thing hurts worse than the cancer itself.”
Unsure how to best fake sympathy, Kurt sat down on the couch opposite the bed. He sat nervously for a few minutes, crossing and uncrossing his legs, unsure of how to ask the question.
“What do you want, Kurt?” said Adrian hoarsely.
“Well the reason I came here, the reason Dad sent me was to….”
Karen narrowed her eyes suspiciously as the Wharton educated ass in front of her fumbled with his words.
“I want to assure you that your company is in good hands even after you … will not be with us any more,” he said, forcefully injecting emotion into his voice, adding, “though I dearly pray you survive this.”
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