Chapter 2

I did not notice anything at all overnight. For those of you reading along for the stirring narration of hanky-panky and women left breathless in post orgasmic melt down, well, skip ahead. Ashley could have set the bedroom in full Slave Women Of Gor, Eager To Slake The Lusts Of Their Masters décor, and I would only have muttered something along the lines of “Don’t hog the blankets!”

She did succeed in awakening me sometime the next morning, handing me the phone. Croaking out a hello, I found Bob The Attorney on the other end. He had been at the courthouse on other business, and had poked his head into the prosecutor’s office. She had informed him that she was not going to bring a grand jury into the decision, as, in her view, the evidence overwhelmingly supported my narrative (conveniently enough, because, well, it was the truth... ) and therefore constituted a righteous shoot.

My call concluded, I filled Ashley in on the good news. She had more news, yet. Her brother Bobbie had asked around, and, since for some reason he felt the need to spend the night in his car, outside my (and his sister, Ashley’s) home, spent that time learning that our departed friend, Tim, had no living family. All his associates (in Bobbie’s opinion, folks in Tim’s circle did not really have “friends”, as you and I understand the term) were intoxicated louts, and had serious difficulty orchestrating a shoplifting spree. Bobbie thought that they would not be motivated to confront me, Ashley, or really, anybody, on Tim’s behalf.

Brittany was curious about all the loud noises. Adam simply was excited that a bad guy had been stopped in his own home, and one of Dad’s guns had been employed to do so.

Once Ashley and I had explained to the kids how the bad man had attempted to strike me with a hammer, and I had been forced to shoot him several times in order to stop that threat, well, they were curious about how Tim had fared. Neither Ashley nor I were up to speed on how one explains Tim’s sort of sociopathy to preschool aged children, let alone the entire “he died in our kitchen” piece. So, we did the best that we could.

The nightmares faded after a couple of weeks, as both kids were repeatedly reassured that both Ashley, as well as their dad, slept lightly, and were going to stand steadfast between them and trouble.

Once Bob the attorney had been forwarded a hard copy of the formal finding by the prosecutor, and I had filed my copy very, very carefully away, Ashley and I took our little family out for dinner to celebrate.

We let the kids choose. Honestly, neither Ashley nor I would have selected the local pizza house, but, it did make for a simple decision, and another patch of normalcy for them and their lives.

School (well, preschool and primary school) was Still A Thing, and so we got home and washed up etcetera, and off to bed. I am a bit embarrassed to admit it, but, with a lovely, loving, warm and willing woman coming to my bed, I went promptly to sleep. Ashley must have crawled under the covers shortly after I passed out, but the only evidence that I had of it was the warm spot left on her side of the bed, as I awakened to hear her shepherding the kids through their pre-school/pre kindergarten morning routine.

I rolled out of bed, tossed on some clothing, and joined the festivities. Daddy walked the children to the bus stop, and I saw them onto the bus.

Once I had returned, and was busy wrapping myself around a hot cup of coffee, Ashley joined me at the kitchen table. She looked at me pensively, for a moment, set her coffee down, and sat up a bit straighter. “Mark, have I told you how much I appreciate you?”

I squinted in her direction. “What do you mean? Sexually, well, yeah, to an extent that I’m often afraid you’ll wake the kids.”

She tossed a piece of toast my way. “You goof! Seriously! Have I told you how much I respect how you put others first, and try very hard to see your duty, and do your duty, and never seem to flinch when doing so?”

I considered her question. “Well, not in those specific terms, no, not recently, I don’t think.”

“So, did you sleep OK last night?”

“I must have. I don’t remember a single thing, after my head hit the pillow.”

She smiled. “Great! Now that we have the house to ourselves, and you are rested, I get to thank my man for standing in harm’s way, so his children, and his woman, would be safe! Let’s start with a nice hot shower for my favorite, hardworking man!”

It was a good thing that Ashley knew where she was going, because I had no thought for anything but her smile, promising good times aplenty. She kicked the bathroom door shut, and tugged my shirt over my head, then pulled my pants to my ankles. As she inverted her own shirt over her own head, with the entertaining results upon her bra less bust that avid readers of this sort of literature might imagine, well, I stood there stupidly.

She looked me up and down, and cocked one hip, fingers tapping her chin, other hand poised on her shot hip. “Are you sure that you slept? Either you are not interested in this boon that I am about to bestow upon you, or you are not paying attention like you need to.”

She glanced at my crotch, and smiled. “I do believe that the evidence demonstrates that you are, indeed, interested in what I am offering you. Do you understand the dress code for this party?”

I revealed the Mensa level IQ that has stood me in good stead over all these years. “Huh?”

She repeated herself. Slowly. “Do you understand the dress code for this party to which I am inviting you?”

Not helping. It appeared that I had not slept as well as I had thought. Ashley comprehended that I was not functioning at 100 %, and took command. She sat me on the commode seat, and, lifting my feet one at a time, extracted my feet from the mess that was my clothing, and then, standing me up, propelled me into the shower.

Once she joined me, well, between the therapeutic effects of hot water, and the stimulative effects of her naked, wet form, my (big) head cleared. I drew her in for a leisurely kiss, and, once we surfaced for air, I wrapped her in my arms, and thanked her verbally. “You ought to know that part of the reason I was able to deal with Tim, effectively, was that I was confident that you had my kids protected. After all the excitement, well, one of the officers told me that he, also, was pretty confident you had the kids well protected!”

She chuckled. “Was that the officer who knocked on the wall next to the door, and had me telephone dispatch to assure me that it was really, really the police outside my door? What did you tell him, anyhow?”

“I told him you were armed, and had some history with Tim, and he ought to be very clear that he was NOT Tim!”

“He listened! I had the kids in the closet, and I had a bead on the door. If Tim had gotten past you, well, he would have stopped just inside the bedroom door!”

We snogged a while longer, and she decide it was time to bathe. She washed me, I washed her, and we enjoyed the closeness.

Ashley was still organizing things, as she led me from the shower, and turned off the water (and, gotta tell you, if you haven’t seen her bend at the waist, nude, to turn off the taps, you have not personally witnessed absolute PROOF that The Almighty loves us, and wants men to be happy.) Her derriere was a thing of perfection, toned, taut, curvy and firm, and my eyes were drawn irresistibly to her form, immobilizing me even as she turned and stood.

She stole my go-to line. “What?”

I shook my head.

“What?”, she repeated.

Comprehension dawned in her eyes. “I recognize that look, buster! You will simply stand there, nicely, while I dry us off, and then we will take this conversation into the bedroom!” Mr. Happy started to reveal HIS view of that plan, and she continued.

“Oh, no sir! You will just wait! I am not screwing you in a wet bed, mister! I just changed the sheets yesterday, and you are NOT going to mess up my nice neat bed!”

I pouted.

“Well, not THAT way, you’re not. You and I will get nice and dry-here, dry my back!-and cuddle together in bed, and then I will thank you as I think you should be thanked, for being the man you are, who stood up to danger, and halted it in the living room, so your kids and your woman could be safe. (A little lower, please!)”

I had learned that listening to, and following, the directions that Ashley issued me, would generally lead to Good Times. I caressed her fine form with the towel, and, satisfied that she was dry, savored her hands caressing me with the other towel. My cock throbbed, but I awaited the next step in her plan.

She led me by the hand to the bed, where she sat me on the edge and knelt at my feet. “I am going to suck you dry, and then lick you back to hardness. Then you will schtup me happy, until I climax all over your drooling fuckstick. Then, we will sleep together, today, until my alarm wakes us up so we can get the kids.”

She smiled at me, from between my knees, and then added, with a serious cast to her face, “And, later, you will tell me how to sign up for my own concealed pistol license. If we ever have this sort of problem again, I’m going to be a better battle buddy for you, than I was last night!”

I was just dopey enough, to delay the suck job she was promising me. “Honey, you did fine. Better than fine, you were outstanding! I knew you had the kids safe, I knew that you wouldn’t falter should Tim get past me, and with that certainty, I could focus on Tim and his shenanigans in my living room. Being able to focus, made it less likely that I’d make some fatal mistake. You enabled me to handle Tim, downstairs, because I knew you had upstairs under control.”

She smiled, again, and gave my throbbing tool a congratulatory suck. “You will, still, hook me up with a class. But, all that is for later. Now, you are going to cum down my throat, and let me thank you in the way women have shown their men their appreciation, since before the time of the Romans.”

She descended upon my glans, pausing once my coronal sulcus was at her lips. Ashley swept her tongue over the head, occasionally probing my meatus with the pointed tip of her tongue until, satisfied with the oaken quality of my erection, she eased my length into her mouth, and then her throat.

She paused, then, at full depth, blinking up at me with love in her eyes. Casually, she drew herself off my reltney, and smooched the tip, once she had released me. Drawing in a breath, she swept me up in her oral embrace, and lathered my shaft with her ever moving tongue.

I throbbed in her throat, and rested my hands upon her scalp, running my fingers through her hair. Her hands joined behind her back, and she settled me again in fully in her maw. I rocked my hips just a bit, as if to attempt to drive my hardness just a bit deeper into her gullet. She reached up with one hand, pressing upon my own hands, as if to push me deeper into her mouth. She released the pressure, and then returned, cyclically pushing, then releasing, my hands.