Absconded

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"Congratulations." "Thank you.. Thank you." Jerry was in a flury of handshakes. And even he was on the verge of tears.. He hadn't cried since he was ten years old. But little did he know that among the many colleagues, and high priced lawyers team in that draining courtroom was his worst nightmare. A woman mysteriously not of any legal profession at all, but a fan. With her own motivations.. Desperately insane motivations.. "Congratulations." She said. Her short 5'6' smile staring up at the big man.. her charming stare.. her long straight, bangless hair that gave her that little girl kind of presence. "Thank you.. Thank you." And Jerry grabbed her hand and shook.

And it was warm.. and it was soft.. and it was firm. Confident. And it was but a taste of what was yet to come for the poor man. Because from that day forth she would never, never leave him alone. Until he was dead..

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"The testimony was thrown out of court." "But why though?" "It doesn't matter!" "It does matter!" "NO IT DOESN'T! IT DOESN'T!" "She saw you leaving the room at two o'clock in the morning, Jerry. What were you doing there at two o'clock in the morning, Jerry?" "LEAVE ME ALONE!" "And Mrs. Gibbons." "A STUPID OLD LADY!" "When you were overly confident, and don't think I didn't see it in your eyes.. When you were overly confident about the pleistescene, I knew!" "LEAVE ME ALONE!" "I knew, Jerry!" How much she knew about the case was astounding. She could have put his million dollar lawyer to shame. But instead she chose this.. this sick rage.

And she slowly approached him, the atmosphere so thick with Jerry's whimpers.. with his terror. Her naked torso waving side to side as though it were a casual stroll. Powerful musculature.. And there it stood not half a foot away from the poor man's face. "Please.. no. NO!" And just like that, like by some weird feminine magic, he was gone..

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It was thick.. like a soup or chocolate. Sweet and savoring to the intimate tastebud. A man's guilt is like a delicacy. Shaken and sauted with his denial desparations.. in endless supply. A substance of thick feminine broth that's eaten like a broth. That's flushed through the vaginal canal like a dusch that were she to hold on to would be like honey. The only thing good about the man..

A man's guilt is unlike any other flavor in the world to her. A thing that forever makes her his God. That which she keeps him in, captured in, like a tiny.. guilty little creature of her pleasure. And she did keep him, day after day.. A trial that never ended. An interrogation, an investigation that, instead of finding fact, made stew his conscience.. A long and drawn out endless emphasis between her legs. Until it was dead..

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Morning came only for one eye. The other was puffed out, and even showed signs of bursting at the brow. And his arms strung out high gave him the religious look of misery. His head beaten, dirty, staring sorrow down at the floor. And in she walked in the door. A woman of little conscience other than his. Her cotton white nylons.. her business like skirt. Her white blouse.. And her handbag. For some strange reason he stopped looking at her face. As the days went by, he only stared at her undressing. Trying to find something obviously soothing about it.. Yet coming up empty. A labedo gone..

And when she walked up to him for the thousandth time, her naked torso in front of his face.. just like before the questions came. And just like before he had no answer that could satisfy her. And a leg went up by his side. And willfully.. oh the misery.. he put his head where she wanted it. To stop the questioning you see.. to stop the ugly side of this virtue meant to be, that by rights should be love and not hate..

And the conscience stewed. Every single day better than it was before.. The energy drained. A sick woman's vindictive orgasms..