Chapter 1: Warming Up

I’ve had their address for a while. A perfect little house in the suburbs. A perfect little family inside, asleep. Makes me sick.

Two years ago today. He was drunk and texting, but they called it an “accident”. His car was fine. His wife was shaken but fine. She helped convince the police that it was my fault, not his. I caught a glimpse of the wreck as they lifted my stretcher into the ambulance. My car totaled. My wife and kids with sheets over their bodies. Ambulance doors shut and my life went black.

That’s the last thing I remember until now, standing here in front of their house. Two years later, in the middle of the night. Snow on the ground, Christmas tree in the window. Their house is too beautiful.

Their life went on happily. Their daughter spoiled rotten. They manipulate everyone around them. My entire family dead. My wife. My kids. Everything taken from me. But they got off without even a slap on the wrist. Without guilt.

I know I can do things. I don’t know why, but I have power now. Power to enact vengeance. I don’t know how I got here, but I know exactly what I’ll do. It’s the only thing left to do. Then I can move on.

I glide over the yard, cloaked in the darkness of the night. Everything is cold. The front door is nothing to me.

Inside, their living room is beautiful. Expensive furniture, artwork, Christmas tree and decorations, mantle and fireplace, curving stairs off to the side leading up to where they sleep. I move silently up the stairs. Everything is wealth. Expensive decor on the walls. Pristine. Sickening. I need to desecrate it all.

Upstairs I pass a few doors, peeking in each as I go. Closet. Bathroom. The new baby’s room, little guy fast asleep inside. I’m not sure what his name is. He’s the one thing I don’t want to disturb tonight. Too annoying, too much hassle.

I continue on, seeing a kids room. She’s 18 years old, but her room is that of a child. She refused to grow up. Pampered and spoiled her whole life. Ella is her name.

Door wide open, I peek in. Pink, girly decor everywhere. A room for a princess. There she is. Bundled up in a sweet little cocoon of fluffy blue and green blankets. Fast asleep. Her pretty little face a gorgeous light almond color, a mix of her dad’s dark Turkish complexion and her mom’s pale German Irish. Her eyebrows dark and bold, strong for such a soft face. No makeup needed, pure beauty. Unfair beauty.

She looks extremely young for her age. Very small, very baby faced. Still holds onto girly little habits like stuffed animals. Innocent in every way. I leave her to sleep, for now.

I continue down the hall to the last door, left open a crack in case the baby needs them in the middle of the night. I enter without a sound. The room is bigger than it needs to be, showing off wealth like the rest of the house. Expensive curtains, dressers, a master bathroom off to the side. And a grand, king sized four-poster-bed, with curtains pulled back, hanging from horizontal beams above. And on the mattress lays two big bundled heaps.

There they are. Kadir and Grace. His face darker and harder to make out in the black of night. He’s sleek and cool, his modern haircut slick and perfect, even at night. And then Grace, just as attractive, but very different. Perfectly fair skin. Lighter hair, very well-done expensive brown and blonde highlights. A bit disheveled from bed but still a wealthy look to her. Both are in their mid 30s.

Everything is calm and peaceful. My coldness the only thing stirring the air. Kadir shifts a bit. I glide in quick before he can wake.

Suddenly everything feels so much better. I’ve never felt like this. The warmth is the best part right now, but the feeling of strength and sturdiness are so new to me. I’ve never been in this good of shape. I breathe a little easier too, my lungs a little stronger than my old body. I’m just overall healthier. Some of the aches and pains I always had, just never a part of his life. I mean, I was in good shape, I was strong in my own way, but damn. It’s not fair.

I enjoy the feeling for a minute. I’m in comfy shorts, a soft undershirt. The warm bed, fluffy expensive blankets and pillows and mattress. I breathe in. The air is so fresh and inviting. Everything about this place is so nice. I could stay here forever. But I notice a slight movement to my left that snaps me out of the moment. I remember where I am, and who’s lying here with me.

Grace faces away from me, laying on her side in a sort of fetal position, a fair amount of space between us in the bed. They sleep far apart. I shift the blankets and slide quietly closer to her. I feel around, scooting closer. Lightly spooning her, feeling her warmth on my chest, my stomach, my groin. I’m so much firmer in this body, but she’s a perfect feminine softness. Her smell, my god. Her hair, her clothes, vanilla and cinnamon. My dick hardens. My dick, it’s ... of course it’s bigger. His life is incredible.

I move my hand up around her side and waist, slowly exploring but trying not to wake her. She seems to be wearing a white tank top. Pretty snug fitting, expensive material, incredibly soft and thin, hugging her curves.

I continue down, over her hips, her round ass and thighs. She’s a bit thick, in a motherly way. Not fat, she stays fit. She clearly played sports earlier in life, and she has a petite frame overall. But a slight thickness in the right places. No doubt something she tries to get rid of, struggling to stay skinny after child birth. She had the new baby not long ago. Having Ella was one thing, but a second birth has had more lasting effect.

She wears very short little gray shorts, sweatpant material, fitting a bit loosely, comfy for bed, but accentuating the shape of her ass by riding up her crack a bit and showing off her entire thighs. I feel around and gently squeeze her ass cheeks. They’re not very firm at all, perfectly soft and squishy, more than a handful but just shy of too much.

She stirs a bit from my touch, not waking, but instinctively pushing her ass back into me slightly. Against my growing cock underneath my shorts.

I grind my dick forward into her a bit, now raging hard, god this dick is bigger than I’m used to by far. It slides up in between her cheeks a bit. I lean my face in and breathe in more of her scent, nuzzling into her hair, feeling my way to her neck with my nose. Damn she couldn’t smell any better. I kiss her neck gently, her skin so smooth and sweet.

I feel around more with my hand, moving up her side, back, and shoulder. She’s a mix of athletic firmness and thick mother. She has a bit of a squish to her hips and waist, love-handles. Her back and arms tone and lean, her stomach slightly plump with the tiniest of fat she couldn’t get rid of. I move my hand around her stomach, feeling this warm place where that child just came from. I hug her closer with my whole arm around her now. Any other time I would just stay like this all night, holding her, living here in her smell and warmth. This beautiful wife, this mother.

But I must keep exploring, my cock pulsating, pushing me on. I move my hand toward her breasts. I notice immediately she only wears this very thin tank top. Almost silk, hugging closely, gently cupping bare breasts beneath, no bra. Her tits are on the bigger side, full, more than a handful. Slightly bigger than her frame would suggest. Perky, if not exactly firm. Motherly, womanly, but young, not sagging. Her nipples slightly hard, poking out against the fabric.

I grab a handful and squeeze, careful to not wake her. So much give, so squishy, I fondle her like this for a few minutes, breathing her in the whole time, cock slowly grinding against her ass.

I slowly reach my finger up under her shirt, it’s so thin it barely counts as clothing, the delicate white fabric probably not even hiding her nipples. I run my hand up under, along smooth skin, warm belly, and grab her tit again, this time feeling bare skin. Even warmer than before, perfect, full and heavy. I run my hand in between her cleavage, letting her warm breasts fully envelope my forearm. I hug her deeply, inhaling more of her sweet scent, licking her neck.

I move my hand back to her breast, this time pinching her hard little nipple. Damn, just so thick and heavy ... of course, she had a baby. I pinch some more, kneading. Wetness. I bring my hand out and smell my fingers. Milk! I suck on it, tasting her sweet breast milk. Really, sweet, like sugar or honey. My dick is a rock against her ass.

I breathe in deep again, kissing more, down the back and side of her neck, to the sweet tender spot between neck and shoulder. I cant get over her smell. Shampoos and lotions and everything women do to make themselves as sweet as dessert. Like she wants to be eaten. So I feast with gentle kisses. My cock rages. I grind slowly front to back, sliding slightly up against the gap of ass crack and thighs. Even with shorts in the way, I’m in heaven.

She stirs a bit more, making a slight whimpering sound in her sleep, grinding her hips back against my motion. My cock is wet with precum already. I kiss and gently nibble at the side of her neck, lifting my head a bit to reach earlobe and cheek, everything smells clean and sweet. Not just freshly showered, but pampered, perfect. Her face is so pretty, with natural good looks even after taking off makeup for bed. She stirs some more and I nuzzle behind her ear, kissing and breathing it all in.

I reach my hand down and quietly pull my shorts down and off, slowly, still trying to keep her from waking too much. I unleash my raging dick, struggling to keep it from jabbing her as I shift around.

I hook my thumb under the waistband of her shorts. I pull down slowly, feeling warm, smooth skin underneath. I pull down more and feel her ass cheeks brushing against my naked flesh. No panties. Her shorts all the way to her thighs, I let go and feel around for what was revealed. Her round ass perfectly smooth and warm, I squeeze and my cock twitches out of control, patting against her ass lightly.

Still breathing in the scent of her hair and neck, I lift her perfect ass cheek and feel around underneath. Short, soft bristles of pube. Tastefully trimmed but not completely bare. But farther in, I feel the clean shaven wet folds of her pussy, still kind of smushed by the weight of her thighs pressing together. Moist and sticky. Is she always like this or is it from the attention I’ve given her in her sleep?

I continue feeling and find a perfectly clean-shaven, textured little asshole. Careful not to tickle her too badly, I rub this area a bit, feeling around the little wrinkles and folds. It’s a bit sticky, almost hot to the touch. I bring my fingers to my nose. Bleh, I wrench my fingers away in slight disgust. Not the worst, definitely clean from showering, but this will have to get cleaner before long.