Chapter 33

It was just after two in the afternoon when I awoke. I was a bit disoriented at first. It isn’t as if I could forget what happened in the last twenty-four hours. I killed three men. Something like that doesn’t slip your mind. Those four words seem to keep screaming through my head. Maybe I should take that as a good sign. It seem to indicate I’m not cut out for a job as a hit man.

I woke up slowly and for a few long, uncomprehending moments I stared at the clock. It took me a minute to figure out it’s not as bright as day at two o’clock in the morning.

I quietly slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom. I used the toilet and started to take a nice hot shower. I was just lathering up my hair when I heard the bathroom door open. I was soon joined by my brand-new fiancée.

It turned into the long, sensuous, very erotic shower she has been trying to talk me into since she entered my life. I experienced a brief moment of overlapping guilt. I feel guilty because it has only been a year since my wife passed away. And there remains a twinge of guilt about being a child molester.

But her enthusiasm and her beauty quickly overcame my guilt, for the most part anyway. And I have to be honest. It isn’t like I haven’t wanted to make love to this sexy woman child for weeks now. I only know she isn’t an adult because she told me her age.

I thought she was in her twenties when I first met her and I still relate to her as an adult. It can’t be avoided. She’s so mature. Not just mature for a girl her age, mature.

We went back into the bedroom and she stood by the side of the bed expectantly. I looked at her and thought of what she has been through. She spent years posing for kiddy porn pictures and then worked in a strip club for a year. She even performed a few lap dances! And those two thugs forced her to perform oral sex. Despite all that she’s still a virgin!

I’ve never made love to a virgin. I’ve never had any desire to deflower a virgin. I don’t even like the phrase “deflower a virgin.” I can look into her eyes, though, and see that I’m more nervous about what we’re about to do than she is.

I took her in my arms. I smiled and said, “Be gentle. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this.”

She grinned. Then she rested her face against my chest and said in a quiet but surprisingly tense voice, “I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. I met girls who, because of what we were doing and the way they treated us, have a very low opinion of the opposite sex. They had no desire to make love to a man.

“I’ve never felt that way. I haven’t liked a lot of the men I’ve met since my mother died. But I figured out men are just like women in one respect. They’re all different. There are good ones and there are bad ones. You’re one of the good ones. I knew it from the moment we met. And I want this so much. I want to do everything. I want to make you so happy you never want to get out of bed.”

I kissed the top of her head. Then I tipped her head back and kissed her soft, warm, moist lips. She pressed her body against mine and returned my kiss passionately. I ran my hands lightly over her back and pulled her even closer. I tried not to sound too much like an actor in a soap opera when I said, “I’m sorry I waited so long to do this. I love you with all my heart. I’m going to make it my life’s work to see to it that the rest of your life makes up for your life up until now. I’m going to fill your life with love and excitement and security.”

She chuckled wryly and said, “I thought I was going to have to rape you at gunpoint. But now I’m glad you made me wait. Not just because the anticipation was so delicious. But I know you better now. I know what a good man you are. I’m so proud I’m going to be your wife.

“I promise you I’ll always do everything I can to make you happy. I have a lot to learn. I want you to help me. I want you to tell me if there is ever anything I’m doing wrong or that I haven’t thought to do. If there is anything I do that bothers you, I want to know that, too.”

I smiled and said, “I will make that agreement with you, if you will make that same agreement with me.”

She sighed and exclaimed, “Oh, Dean! If I were any happier my heart would burst!”

I picked her up and gently placed her on the bed. I sat beside her and softly teased her body with my fingertips for a very long time while we stared into each other’s eyes.

She was looking up at me with nothing but love in her beautiful eyes. But then I saw the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I asked her what was wrong.

She blushed and said, “I’m so embarrassed.”

She saw the confusion in my eyes and she explained, “So many men have seen me naked. So many men have touched my body. But this is the first time I’ve been with a man I love. The other, the things I did, they never bothered me before.”

She paused and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then she looked at me and said, “That’s not true. Those awful things I did to survive always bothered me. Of course they did. I hated the things I had to do. Out of necessity I became an expert at rationalizing and compartmentalizing. But now I feel like I’ve...”

I leaned down and kissed her. I stretched out beside her. I held her in my arms and said, “Don’t have any regrets. I don’t. The way I see it, the things that happened to you made you who you are. I love who you are. And just think! Later, if I want to see what a cute little kid you were I can probably find your pictures on the internet!”

She punched me in the shoulder. But she laughed and put her arms around me. She kissed my neck and said, “Only a warped son of a bitch like you would say something like that! God I love you!”

We kissed for a while longer. We want each other very much. But we’re both enjoying the foreplay, the anticipation. Our hands explored eagerly. It excited me that she didn’t just lie there and let me touch her. She was an active participant. I liked that she seemed so fond of the way my hard cock felt in her hand.

But it’s going to be a while longer before she loses her virginity. I’m just getting started. I’m just beginning to drive her crazy.

I started moving my lips softly over her face, kissing and lightly licking her supple, young flesh. I kissed my way down her neck, down over her shoulders and around her breasts for a long time before I started to tease her hard little nipples.

I don’t think anyone has ever touched her to bring her pleasure before. She has been felt up, groped, even raped. But no one has ever spent any time trying to please her, trying to excite her.

I watched her face as I licked and sucked on her breasts. It’s obvious she has never felt like this before. Her moans and groans and soft cries were the most sensual sounds I’ve ever heard. Her arms came up and she held my head pressed against her chest. In a breathless voice she cried out, “Oh god! That’s ... I ... I never imagined! Oh, Dean! I love you so much!”

I slipped out of her grip and began to kiss and lick my way down her stomach. I took my time. I took a lot of time. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I finally reached her warm, red, swollen little vulva. It’s so hot it’s steamy. The lips are swollen and pulsing with her lust. The hair on her mons is just starting to grow back. It’s a fine, soft down more than anything else. It swirls around, lying flat against her skin. She still looks child-like enough to make me uncomfortable but I put her age out of my mind and began to tease her vulva with my lips and tongue.

The involuntary sounds of lust that escaped from her, the way her body tensed and quivered, she’s driving me as crazy as I’m driving her. When I ran my tongue through her moist slit she screamed and had her first orgasm of the day. I’m looking forward to giving her many, many more before the day is over.

I shifted my position, stretching out between her legs and gently spreading her open to make room for my body. My face hovered directly over her sex. I reached up and gently separated the sides of her virginal opening. The entrance to her vagina lay before me. I leaned down and gently kissed her there. Her breath caught in her throat. She emitted some sort of strange, yet highly erotic animal like keening sound and then shivered through another orgasm.

I licked all around her swollen clit without actually touching it. I don’t think she even knew what she was doing when her hands reached down and tangled in my hair. She didn’t pull my face down. At first she only held onto me as if she was gripping the mane of a horse she was riding.

I started lapping up the moisture that’s pouring out of her. I ignored the pain as she began pulling at my hair without even seeming to realize it. I noticed that she has no hymen and I was relieved. I don’t want to hurt her. I want this first time to be the best thing that has happened to her, ever.

I slipped my tongue inside of her vaginal opening and fucked her with it for several minutes before I lifted my head away. She screamed when I stopped. But I gently lifted her legs up to her chest and began to tease her anus with my tongue and she instantly went crazy again.

She cried out and in a raspy, lust choked voice she stuttered, “W-w-what are you ... what ... you can’t ... OH MY GOD!!”

I smiled. But I didn’t stop. I licked all around and then stiffened my tongue and worked it right up inside of her. Her entire body began to shiver and gyrate as if she had just grabbed onto a hot wire. I didn’t stop until she shuddered through another orgasm and went almost limp.

I lowered her legs and began to concentrate on her sweet pussy again. I ate her pussy until she reached down and wrapped her fingers in my hair once more.

This time it was purposeful. This time she knew what she was doing. She screamed at me to fuck her and pulled on my hair until I gave in and slid my body up over hers.

She pulled my head down and we kissed like vampires feeding off of each other for a long time. While we kissed I could feel her hips moving. Her body was trying to find my cock.

I inched up a little farther until the head of my cock came into contact with her wet opening. I groaned when my cock sensed the moist heat from her opening and she cried out again. She reached down with one hand and guided my throbbing cock to her sopping wet pussy. She whispered, “Fuck me! Love me! Dean I want you inside of me.”

I slowly pressed down, sliding several inches of my cock inside of her. I stopped, pausing to savor the moment, enjoying the heat from her body, enjoying the feel of a hot, wet, extremely tight pussy clamping down on my cock for the first time in a year.

I opened my eyes after a moment and looked down at her face. I almost laughed at the surprised expression on her face. I know what she’s thinking. She thought it was going to hurt. She experienced only pleasure.

I leaned down and kissed her lips. She returned my kiss. But then she whispered, “I don’t understand. I thought...”

I kissed her again and slowly slid the rest of my cock into her. Her eyes grew wider and wider and her breathing was reduced to quick pants of lust. When our pubic bones were rubbing together I quietly explained, “Many girls lose their hymens before adulthood. They either tear them through normal activity, or in many cases they just shrink away as girls reach maturity.”

I only learned that myself recently while researching something completely unrelated on a medical site on the internet. I don’t know if it’s true or not. Andrea is the only virgin I’ve ever made love to. I didn’t realize that it was not an uncommon phenomenon. And apparently I’m not alone in my ignorance.

She relaxed a little more when she realized the process is going to be painless. Well, perhaps relaxed is the wrong word. We are definitely not relaxed. But the tension she experienced while anticipating that initial stab of pain dissolved. After that it was pure pleasure.

We spent the next hour or so locked together like that. She was in an almost constant state of orgasm. I climaxed three times. But I never pulled out of her. I reached orgasm. Then I waited, resting, catching my breath with my cock still inside of her while we kissed and whispered lovingly to each other. My cock would get hard again in record time and we would start all over.

We were exhausted and about to lose consciousness from dehydration by the time we finally agreed we had to stop for a rest. We were covered in sweat and bodily fluids. Even then I had to struggle to get away from her strong grip.

I rolled over and lay beside her. She turned and rested her head on my shoulder. I held her close while we laughed at nothing and caught our breath. Just before I got up to drag her into the shower she frowned and asked, “You believe me don’t you? I really never ... you know.”

I smiled and hugged her tight to my sweaty body. I kissed the top of her head and said, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t care. But I know you wouldn’t lie. Not about that, not about anything. If you want I’ll show you the article I found. It came as a surprise to me. Apparently it isn’t even common knowledge among medical professionals.

“There are exceptions. Some poor girls have super hymens that they end up having to have surgically removed. But apparently, from what I read, if a woman waits to have sex until her body is mature enough to reproduce, in many cases her hymen will slowly recede and eventually disappear.”

I had to help her out of bed. She could hardly move. We went in and took a quick shower. While we were drying off she looked down at her pussy and said, “There have been times over the years when I wished I didn’t have that thing. It has made my life very difficult.”

Then she grinned and said, “But I’m sure glad it’s there now!”

I laughed at her enthusiasm and the look of excitement on her elfin face and exclaimed, “Me, too!”

She tried to drag me right back to bed after our shower. But I insisted on going downstairs and getting us both a large glass of ice water. We took them out onto the deck and sat side by side in lounge chairs. We held hands, drank our water, and stared out at the small but very scenic body of water in my backyard.

Andrea sighed and said, “I never want to leave this house again. Not ever in my life. I never imagined this much happiness existed in the world. I certainly never thought I’d ever experience it.”

I decided this would be a good time to bring up what I’ve been thinking about. I squeezed her hand and said, “It’s funny you should mention it. I’m going to keep this place. But I think we’re going to have to move to Middlebury for a few years.”

I heard her stop breathing for a moment. Before she could panic I assured her, “We can still come here on weekends and holidays. But while you’re going to college I think we should find a place in town. You certainly can’t be driving back and forth to school from up here. That road is very dangerous in the winter and it’s much too far to commute.

She didn’t move, she didn’t speak, not for a very long time. Finally, she sat up and turned to look at me. She had a very serious expression on her face. She looked me right in the eye and said, “No! You can’t do that. And I can’t do that. I have a fifth grade education. People don’t go to college with a fifth-grade education. They certainly don’t go to the third or fourth best college in the country with a fifth-grade education.

“I admit I’ve had fantasies about it. But let’s be realistic. The best I can hope for is that I’ll be allowed to take some evening classes at a less prestigious school, maybe even something on the internet. And I won’t let you spend that much money on me. Not ever.”

I smiled. She knows Middlebury College is one of the top five colleges in the country so she must have looked into it. She must want to go. She saw my smile and shook her head. She said, “Don’t even think it. And let’s get real. Even if I wanted to go, they’d never admit me.”

I simply said, “Oh, I think they will.”

Not long ago, upon our return from one of our shopping trips, I carried some bags up to her room. I went into her closet to hang up some items I was carrying that were on hangars. When I did I stumbled on her old backpack. It fell over and the results of the GED exam she took while she was working in Burlington fell out. The backpack and those little pieces of paper are the only things she still has from her previous life.

When I saw them I wasn’t at all surprised to see that she nearly maxed out every test she took. The damn kid is a genius!

I know my way around the college. It is, after all, my alma mater. It’s been fifteen years since I graduated. But in those fifteen years I’ve given that school a lot of money and I’ve continued to do so in increasing amounts as my company grew and my fortunes increased. If they want to continue to receive my donations they’re going to admit Goldilocks, my little blonde genius. I’m not above a little extortion if that’s what it takes.

I reached out and took her hand again. I said, “We both know you’re more than smart enough. You’re a hell of a lot smarter than I am and I loved it there. I know you have gaps in your education. I don’t worry about them at all. I’ll help you if you need it and where I can’t help you we will find someone else who can. I know you’ve never written a term paper or anything more challenging than a book report. But you have the brain for it and you have the desire. I’m going to insist on this.”

She stared into my face and I could see the realization that her dream of an education is going to come true finally dawn on her. Her face lit up.

But she has reservations. That’s understandable. I smiled and quietly said, “Sweetheart. You’re a genius. I’m not exaggerating. I saw your GED scores but I knew you were smart long before I stumbled upon the results of your tests. I listened to you speak. I watched you use logic more skillfully than highly educated people I have known. I’m so impressed by you. I’m so proud of you. And I guarantee it’s going to be the most exciting four years of your life.”

She finally smiled and let the excitement show through. She squeezed my hand so hard it hurt and stuttered, “I ... I’m...”

For the first time since the day I discovered her sleeping in my bed she was at a loss for words. I smiled and said, “I don’t want to hear any more of your shit. You’re going and that’s final.”

She gulped down her water and took my glass from me. Then, on second thought, she handed me the glasses and said, “How about if you refill these while I go up and put clean sheets on the bed. We made one hell of a mess up there this morning.”

We stood up and I wrapped my arms around her. I was holding an ice-cold water glass in each hand. Her head is pressed against my chest and she quietly said, “I know what you’re thinking. Just remember whose mouth your cock is going to be in a couple of minutes from now and decide if it’s worth the gamble.”

So, I restrained myself. But it wasn’t easy. There are some acts of foolishness we males never seem to outgrow.

We spent most of the day making love. We took a short break later in the evening and ate a light snack. Then we took a short nap before returning to the important work of making love. We did just about everything two people can do together at least once.

By the time I surrendered, by the time I admitted defeat, by the time I confessed to her that my stamina was inadequate for the job at a little after eleven that evening I was starting to feel my age.

We put fresh sheets on the bed, again, and then we took another shower. We’re both exhausted, but too wired to go right to bed. We went downstairs and while Andrea got us a fresh glass of water, I put a pair of gloves on and wrote a note to the homicide cops in Burlington.

I’ve been thinking about what I should say since I decided to send the note. I have to be careful not to give them any information they can use to identify me or Andrea. I didn’t mention Andrea at all. It didn’t seem necessary. I told them I was responsible for the deaths of Califaro and his two thugs and I told them where the bodies of the two thugs are. I explained without going into too much detail that Califaro killed Graham and I killed Califaro and his two thugs in self-defense. I told them the primary reason I’m sending the note is that it appeared to me that there are other bodies buried in the clearing, probably victims of Califaro and his employees.

I don’t expect them to take my word for the events which took place that night. But I hope that the men I killed will be known to the cops and maybe they won’t try too hard to discover my identity.

I know I should come forward and tell them everything. But I’m too afraid of consequences which might arise for Andrea if I do. I also worry that someone else in Califaro’s organization might feel it necessary to make an example of us. I’m not interested in going into the witness protection program so the note will have to do.

I put the note in an envelope and I put the envelope in a plastic sandwich bag before I removed my gloves. The following evening, we drove to the steak house on the other side of the lake. I stopped on the way to dinner and mailed the letter in the small town we pass through on the way. I was careful at all times to avoid touching the envelope with my bare hands.

It was a big story on the local news for weeks. We weren’t surprised to learn that Califaro, Graham, and the two thugs all have extensive criminal records. The thugs were both wanted men in several states along the Atlantic coast.

But the real tragedy was the result of the search they made in that small clearing after removing the bodies of Graham and the two thugs I killed. They continued to pull human remains out of there for days. I don’t know if they’ve identified them all yet. But of the nine bodies they were able to identify when last I heard one was a local accountant who disappeared a couple of months ago. The other eight were runaway girls from all over the country. The last I heard the total body count was nineteen. But they’ve broadened the search perimeter and they’re still looking with cadaver dogs.

Detectives from two different agencies came to my door on several occasions but they didn’t seem to suspect me of anything more serious than living nearby. They apparently only came to my door because I’m the closest resident to the site and they wanted to make sure I didn’t see anything or know anything that could help them.

I graciously invited the cops in whenever they appeared at my door and offered them a cold drink. I answered any questions they asked with the same answer. I know nothing.

The truth is they didn’t expect me to know anything. They just felt that they had to ask so it was easy to convince them I was oblivious to the killing field just down the road from my house. I had no reason to even know the people buried in the woods nearby. I almost never go to Burlington. I never visit strip clubs. And who in their right mind would bury all those bodies so near to their home?

The story died down quickly once they stopped pulling bodies out of there. They apparently believed that the recent bodies were responsible for the earlier bodies and they didn’t seem all that interested in finding out who killed the killers. But then, I’m not privy to their investigation. For all I know they’re still hard at work trying to track me down.

On a nice warm morning in early August, I called an acquaintance at the college and asked about getting Andrea enrolled. He was intrigued when I told him about her educational background and her GED scores. He invited us to come see him and we made an appointment for the following day.

You should have seen Andrea’s face when I told her. Suddenly it wasn’t theoretical any longer. Now there’s a chance that it might actually happen. She looked more scared than she was when it looked like we were going to get killed and end up in a shallow grave a few miles from my house.

We got dressed the next day and early in the morning we headed for Middlebury. It’s been more than fourteen years since I graduated. For many years after I graduated I would go back and visit the campus when I had some free time. Walking among those old buildings and reminiscing always relaxed me.

I’ve acquired friends among the faculty over the years. My wife and I lived and worked in the town until she was killed. The plant I still own but no longer manage is located there. But I haven’t been back to enjoy a leisurely stroll around the campus in more than five years.

I somehow expected it would have changed in that time. It hasn’t. Well, it has. But the feeling of the place, the atmosphere is the same. And I’m pleased that it’s still the same. To walk around that campus again is to step back in time.

Andrea tried to act nonchalant but she looked around in awe as I tried to explain to her what, to the outsider, is the unnecessarily confusing commons system which is peculiar to Middlebury College. I’m not sure she heard anything I said.

When it was time to meet with Dan Fortier I guided her to his office. There was a time when Dan and I were pretty close friends. But after my wife passed away I became something of a recluse. I haven’t seen any of my old friends in a long time.

He greeted us warmly and took us into his office. Dan has a way with people and he easily drew Andrea into conversation. I could see he was impressed with her poise, her beauty, and her depth of knowledge on almost any subject. When he saw her GED certificates he was even more impressed. They’re the highest scores he’s ever seen by a wide margin. He found it just as hard to believe that her education stopped with the fifth grade as I did.

We discussed what she would need to do to get admitted and the difficulties she is apt to face once she’s enrolled. But by the time we left his office it looked like it was going to happen. I didn’t even have to threaten to stop donating money to the school!

It was too early for lunch so we drove over to my plant on the edge of town. It’s been so long since I’ve been back there that I had to show my identification to the security guard to get in.

My manager, Lori Olson, wasn’t expecting me. We ended up sitting in her waiting room while she was taking care of a problem out in the plant. When she came in and saw me she screamed, “DEAN!”

She ran across the room and threw herself into my arms.

She hugged me for an uncomfortably long time. Then she backed up and asked, “Are you coming back to work?”

I actually got the impression she wouldn’t mind if I did. But I smiled and shook my head. I said, “No. I was in town and thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing. This is purely a social call.”

I introduced her to Andrea. When she learned we’re engaged she threw herself at Andrea and hugged her, too!

Lori keeps me informed about the company and how she’s running it. She sends me monthly reports even though I’ve told her repeatedly it isn’t necessary. I really didn’t come here to check up on her. I know she’s doing a good job. I just stopped in to say hello to her because we’re friends.

Lori told me she was just about to call me. A Mr. Morris has been trying to get in touch with me. I’ve met him on a few occasions. He’s a pretty nice old guy. He owns J.A.M. Aluminum. It’s a family business. He took over from his father years ago when his father retired. Morris and I are in much the same business, though we aren’t in direct competition.

Lori gave me his number and I promised to call him. We talked until her next appointment showed up and then Andrea and I went to lunch at a sidewalk café my wife and I enjoyed visiting when we lived in town.

After lunch we stopped in to talk to a realtor. I wanted to check on rental properties near the college. The agent showed us a few places. But there weren’t many and I wasn’t impressed with the places we were shown. Naturally I don’t want my future wife to live on campus. But it looks like we’re going to have to expand the boundaries of our search if we want to find a nice place.

We talked it over and decided to spend the night in a hotel and have dinner in town. It was still early enough that I decided to call Mr. Morris and see what he wants. When I told him we were planning to stay in a hotel in town tonight and suggested we get together tomorrow he suggested instead that I let him put us up in his home and join him and his wife for dinner. After dinner he wants to introduce me to some of the people he has working for him and hopefully make me an offer I can’t refuse.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re good friends. But I liked Morris the few times I met him so I agreed. He gave me directions to his home and invited me over to meet his wife. He said he would meet us there in ten minutes.

I lived in Middlebury for many years and I was aware the area Morris lives in was being developed. There was a bit of a fight between locals and the developer when they first started to build there. But this is the first time I have visited the exclusive area. I don’t think I was quite prepared for the homes we encountered. I’m considered well off. But I’m not sure I could afford one of these places. Well, I could. But I’m not the sort of person who’d spend that much of my savings on a house. My impression was reinforced when I stepped inside of Morris’s home. It’s a fucking mansion!