Chapter 1

A hand pushed firmly against my chest, knocking me off-balance. My arms windmilled as I tried futilely to regain my footing. My cock sprang from her mouth and I heard her yell, "You bastard." As I fell backwards, the first line of my cum struck her forehead. Each subsequent surge flew into space, following the laws of Newtonian fluid dynamics.

Somewhere in the grey of his mind he heard a voice. He knew he'd been slugged; he could sense, half taste and half smell a metallic tang. He heard the voice again. It was a friendly sounding voice. "How're you feeling, John? That was a nasty bump you took." He was right, he had been hit.

He didn't feel strong enough to lift his head at first. It was still dark, but he had no idea how much later it was than the 7:00 p.m. he'd left the store. Though it felt like asphalt under his hands, he knew he wasn't in the parking lot. It dawned upon him that he was on a roof, a high one. He could feel the wind blowing freely, unrestrained by trees and buildings. He felt cold and realized he was nude. Now he lifted his head.

"Where'm I? Where're my clothes? What's going on?" The questions sprang from his lips in a stream.

He lifted himself further and focused his eyes as well as he could in the dim light. He saw three men before him. One, well dressed, was seated incongruously in an executive office chair. The other two, in jeans and polo shirts, stood away from the chair and a step and a half away from his unclothed body. They looked like they could break him in half with little effort.

"Who're you?"

"Relax, John" the suited one said. "Let me answer all your questions. It's bad to get so upset when you may have a head injury.

"You're on top of the office tower in the Palmer Industrial Park. Your clothes are in a dumpster four miles away. What's going on is that you haven't been living a very upright life. Fucking a married woman isn't very nice. In some places it's a capital crime."

John shivered, partly from the late May weather on his naked skin, partly from the forthright menace in the voice from the chair.

"I'm Carl," said the chair. "I'm Veronica's husband."

"Shit," John thought. His eyes widened and darted about. His breathing quickened and became deeper. Ronnie had been at his elbow as they left his store. Where was she?

Carl cocked his head and looked at John with a smile. "Remembered that you lost someone? Don't worry, she's right over there." Carl waved over his left shoulder. John's focus shifted toward the wave.