"Me neither," he replied, "But I was almost out of time. Had to. Do. Something."
"I like," Liz answered, letting her rhythm build, feeling him inside of her. "Hope I was worth the wait."
"Yeah," her voice become fainter as a trickle of moisture began to bead between her breasts. Seeing it, Jack sweetly kissed the moisture away.
Liz felt the pressure begin to build and was torn between letting herself go or trying to prolong this most wonderful experience. "Spank me," she said, "Just lightly."
He did and at that moment Liz felt the pressure build to an almost instant fever pitch. She was going to come but somehow fought it off for the moment.
"Your cock," she said, "In me. Heavenly."
"Oh, Liz," Jack moaned as he gripped her ass hard with both hands, "I'm-"
"Wow, I feel it," she answered, feeling him explode in her. It was warm and somehow knowing he'd come for her turned her on all the more. She imagined for a moment more of his slippery shaft inside her and felt herself pop.
She shook, and dug her nails into his shoulders as wave after wave rolled over her. She slowed her ride on him, but somehow made it more sensual all the same. After a seeming eternity, the waves finally subsided and she collapsed, letting her head fall on her shoulder.
"Goodness," she said, trying to recover her breath but suddenly enjoying his post coital caresses, which were gentle and loving. Being used to Curtis' rather quick exits from their lovemaking — or actually fucking, given how much different being with Jack was — Liz relaxed and enjoyed the attention.
Jack was a good man. Even if this was their only time together like this Liz knew she didn't want to miss or forget a moment.
After what seemed like an hour but was probably only a couple of minutes she whispered, "We should get going, love." Yikes, she said love? "We've been gone awhile."
Slowly they got themselves put back together and Liz was pleased to see that neither really looked the worse for wear in spite of what they'd just done. They agreed Jack would go out first and, if asked, say that she was sick and he was helping out. She'd follow a few minutes later.
The plan worked, though it really wasn't that difficult. In their absence, the others had left to get ready. Only Curtis remained, and he was so out of it he wouldn't be able to remember if a bomb went off.
Liz and Jack shared a quick kiss and then he too departed, leaving her to get ready and try to get Curtis to be somewhat presentable in two short hours time.
Somehow she'd managed to do it, having decided to get him started first. Eventually he was put together somewhat, though she'd been unable to get a tie on the boy, and he still wasn't sober enough to do so.
Leaving him on the couch, she went through her ablutions, and found herself wishing Jack was her date tonight instead of Curtis. She found that thought inspiring, and giving herself one last look in the mirror thought she was ready for her big night.
She turned to slip on her pumps and looked dejectedly at Curtis, who actually appeared rather sullen, which made it a good probability that he was sober for the most part now. And ready for his surprise.
"You coming?" was all she said as she went to the door.
An hour or so later, the event was in full swing and dinner had run its course. Liz was still feeling wonderful after her run in with Jack. She made suggestive eye contact with him a few times, but didn't want to push her luck and be caught. She sipped her wine in a very ladylike manner — at least if you asked her — while her Curtis had downed another six-pack during dinner.
Thankfully, he was still coherent and merely buzzed for the gallery presentation. As the lights dimmed and Claire hooked up her iPad to get the show started, Liz was torn between excitement and a weird uneasiness. How would this go over?
A few minutes in, Liz realized just what a good job Claire had done in making all the video and photo edits meld together seamlessly. Given that it was mainly from things the sisters either videoed or photographed with a smartphone — sometimes while rather drunk — made it even more remarkable.
Liz found herself reliving the events of the year as they flashed over the big screen. All of her friends and all the great memories were right there for all to see, though if you missed one or two everyone got the file to keep anyway.
Suddenly the hall gasped and fell silent, with the only sound coming from the soundtrack of Claire's presentation. There, on the screen, was Curtis. He was naked except for a blue bra, his face contorted mid-orgasm, and his hands working himself over.
Unlike most of the visuals, which were there for a second then gone, Curtis' stayed longer. Finally it was replaced with more of the expected fare, only to be replaced a second later with another of Curtis, but this time zoomed into just his upper half.
Now the silence turned to whispers, then slowly a chuckle or two was heard. Finally sniggers and catcalls started to come out.
Liz turned to Curtis, who was deathly pale and seemed frozen in time, his hand still holding a glass of beer halfway to his mouth. He didn't look pained so much as bewildered.
"I didn't know you were into that type of thing," Liz said to him, just loudly enough for the table to hear her. "I'm not," she said slowly, letting her engagement ring drop with a slight plunking sound into his beer.
She looked over at Jack as the presentation resumed more in line with the original theme.
Their eyes locked and she was almost sure that he winked at her.
Examining the Examiner
by Bonnie Robles
Camilla Van Hauser tucked a strand of her brown locks behind her ear as she looked at the dead body on the sidewalk. She loved her job to bits but this part was what she hated the most — seeing innocent people dead sometimes for no good reason.
“Petechial hemorrhage suggesting strangulation. The wound on her forehead was definitely pre-mortem,” she said as she examined the body of the young woman on the floor. “I would suggest strangulation as the official cause of death,” she said before looking up at the detective. “I think my work here is done,” she said again as she removed her gloves and got to her feet.
“Dr. Van Hauser. A good day to you,” Detective Harold Jameson said. She turned around and flashed him a smile.
“You too,” she said as she packed her bag.
“Did you just get here?” he asked looking at her. She smiled and shook her head.
“Actually, you are late and I am already done,” she said as she began walking away.
“Well, don’t forget to fax me your finding,” he called after her. She turned around.
“See you at the precinct, detective.”
“When are the two of you going to stop this cat and mouse game you have going on and simply do what needs to be done?” Harold’s partner Pam Spacey asked. He looked at her and smiled.
“We are here because of a murder, Pam. Concentrate,” he said in an attempt to change the subject.
Harold Jameson was the newest addition to the 19th Precinct. He had moved to the city from England and everything about him screamed British. The accent, the clothes and even the car he drove. Harold was a man of thirty five years who had special experience of serving in the tactical team in Pakistan.
He was not only raggedly handsome, but also a talented and greatly gifted individual. Thanks to his service in the army and at some point in the federal government, Harold was fluent in five languages and had great skills in martial arts. He was tall, maybe six one, and had a great body.
The first time Camilla laid eyes on him, she had actually thought of him as a model rather than a detective. He had a great run in the tactical force in Pakistan but after thirteen years of service, his mother’s health took a turn or the worse and he had to stay home and look after her.