Aftermath of Slut Spouse Volume VIII

Aftermath of Slut Spouse Volume VIII

"Hey, how are you feeling this morning?"

Andy stirred, his head buried in a crushed pillow, his arm tucked beneath him. Naked from last night. I lay beside him in the guest room. Dan had been up for hours. I could hear him rustling around in the kitchen.

"Where am I?" Andy propped himself up on his forearms, looking for a clock. It was 10:03 in the morning. We rarely slept this late unless Samantha was with her grandparents.

"We're at Dan's house... in the guest bedroom. You and I had to drag you in here last night. You were totally wasted on the pool deck."

I was fishing for details, feeling the sharp guilt gnawing at my conscience and the uncomfortable feeling of being sober after a night of drinking.

"I think I fell asleep on the lounge chair outside." Andy raked his fingers through his hair, frowning. "I woke up, it was dark. I was dizzy and alone. Damn, I've got a massive headache."

"Let me go to the kitchen and get some pain relievers. I won't ask him to bring any, as I didn't pack any when we came over."

"Did we eat dinner last night?" Andy was trying to recall any crumbs of memory. I hoped it was empty as I didn't leave anything to clean up.

"You passed out before Dan could grill the shish kabobs. As we couldn't wake you up, we saved everything for today's lunch. Dan put the meat and vegetables in Italian marinade, said it would be even better the following day. We ate chips and onion dip with some nachos on the side. You hungry?"

"Yeah. I feel like I've been hit by a bus." Andy slipped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"What did you and Dan do all night?" The familiar feeling of anxiety returned.

"I explained it. We ate junk food while keeping your drunk self from falling into the pool and drowning."

I fidgeted with the pillowcase as I walked down the hall to the kitchen. Dan wore shorts and a t-shirt, removing strips of bacon from the oven. There were warm cinnamon rolls on the counter, dripping with white, sticky icing. He smiled at me as I helped myself.

"Sleep well?" Dan handed me a plate. The icing was dripping between my fingers.

"Like a log." I chewed as he poured me a cup of coffee. Dan often expressed surprise that I take it black.

"So similar to how you like your men?" Dan teased me about sex with black guys. When I was pregnant with Sam, he showed me a video on his phone. A series of black men having sex with a white girl. These massive penises were titled Black Bred Bitches. I must have revealed too much surprise because he couldn't stop laughing at me - another innocent conversation that turned into a full-on sexual exchange at the kitchen table.

I started trembling with desire.

"That's right, white boy. You're just a warm-up." I took a long, lustful lick of the cinnamon roll and then sucked off some of that thick, creamy topping. Dan's mouth fell open in shock. "So, can I take one of these rolls to my well-endowed husband in the back bedroom?"

Dan laughed. "Go ahead. I'll check on the shish kabobs." I joked. "You both getting a shower?"

"I'll let you know when I feel less squeezed." He responded. "Oh, and one more thing, we're grilling shish kabobs for lunch if you can keep Andy awake."

"Ugh, that reminds me." I stopped. "You got any pain relievers? My husband has a headache."

Dan rolled his eyes and searched a cabinet, handing me a bottle of pain medicine. I managed to catch it, juggling my food.

"Impressive?" I smirked. I think Dan forgot I was holding food. "You're stunning, Meg. In every way."

I beamed like an excited schoolgirl who nailed her piano performance at a recital, then walked back to the restroom. Andy was already in the shower washing himself. I pulled apart the curtain and drew him near, showing him a roll for him to nibble on. "Nice?" He nodded. I slipped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

"I forgot to bring drinks," I admitted. I had left my coffee in the kitchen... fortunately, I guess, otherwise I might not have been fortunate enough to catch that moment. There were paper cups by the sink, so I filled one with water while handing Andy two capsules. "This should help your hangover, dear." He downed both and washed his hair.

"Are you getting in?" he asked. It was an antique claw tub shower with a curtain surrounding it, but there wasn't a lot of room for frolicking. I slipped off my shirt and tossed my panties onto the floor, stepping over the porcelain edge. Andy held out a bottle of generic body wash for me. It had a pleasant unisex scent.

"So," he began, clearly feeling more like himself. "What did you and that dude do last night?"

I squeezed soap into my hair, searching for conditioner. I didn't see any. "Are you asking to play, honey?" I wrapped my soapy hand around Andy's soft penis, wondering if he was in one of his 'moods' or simply dissatisfied with my first answer to his interrogation.

Andy's mood for role playing often involved hand jobs with tales of my imaginary exploits, though it wasn't always as elaborate as Dan's depiction of a cherry-pop cop interpretation of virginal deflowering from the previous night. That performance was Oscar-worthy, in my opinion.

Despite my husband's persistent inquiries, his erection was responsive to some soapy, lubricated stroking, providing welcome reassurance to my nervous mind.

However, his questions were stimulating my brain into such agitation that a confession was brimming on the verge of surfacing. At the time, I wasn't very adept at keeping secrets. I've got better with time and practice.

Despite my strong feelings for Dan, I wasn't attracted to him—just his body. I still loved Andy and didn't want to hurt him. I had lost my mind... my entire grasp on common sense and propriety. I was wasted in a wanton haze and unable to resist the lure of a forbidden attraction.

That was when I realized Friday night wasn't meant to be a one-time slip-up of poor judgment. Dan was a clever strategist, and he seemed to be planning this for a while. Although our houses were only a mile apart, we rarely spent the night at Dan's friend's house.

It had only been a week since Dan fucked me twice in one day, the first and only time we'd ever had sex. It shouldn't have been a glaring red flag on my radar of bad ideas, but it lingered and festered like a persistent thorn in my side.

But despite the fact that his actions were not those of a drunken mistake easily dismissed, it was a confluence of long-simmering sexual tension that had been smoldering in both of our loins since the day we kissed in the foyer... the day Dan returned.

"Did you jerk me off last night?"

"I mean, at your house."

"Uh, I guess. Yes, I might have done that. It must have been really amazing if you can't recall me doing that."

"Was Dan there?"

"No, I don't believe so. It's not like I saw him as I was stroking you." A little lie. A huge blunder. I couldn't gauge the magnitude of these things.

"I thought he was there."

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't there, Andy." Lie. Again, maybe worse this time.

"So, you and Dan were standing around eating chips while I was naked and asleep in a lounger by the pool?"

"I mean, we might have eaten chips near you and you were in a lounger, but I think I covered you with a towel so you wouldn't spill come over your swim trunks." Bold-faced lie. I left Andy nude under the stars and the moon. I was truly sinking deeper into the abyss.

"You think you covered me?"

"Yeah, we covered you and carried you to bed in your nakedness, Andy." Deep down, I knew I was in trouble. Drowning in shit, digging my own grave.

Hey buddy, think about the implications before you get sloshed to the max! What if I just left you outside for the birds? What if I let you trip into the pool and drown? You couldn't even walk with help. I couldn't wake you up. What would be my alternative? Dan suggested leaving you out there, but I shut that idea down. I had him bring you back into the house.

"Did you tell Dan to carry me to the bedroom naked?"

"That wasn't a difficult request. Come on, Andy. Men expose themselves in front of each other all the time. Didn't you do it in college? Wasn't that the norm?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Well, get over it, Andy. It's happened before. You were seen in the barn last week." I fell silent, pondering. There was a nerve twitching. "I'm sorry, Andy. I shouldn't have removed your shorts. That was inconsiderate of me. I was just distracted."

"You don't need to undress me in my friend's house, and what's with the buzzards roosting at night?"

"Oh my, Andy. Buzzards fly in the morning. The first thing they'd likely do is munch on your cock."

Andy gazed at me, unamused.

"Sorry, sorry. You deserve it. I know... I can see the glimmer of your embarrassment. You're embarrassed about your friend seeing your penis. Forget about it. Guys peep each other all the time. They shower together in college for heaven's sake. You remember others naked in college, right? Didn't they notice you?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Oh for goodness' sake. Look, I apologize. I've said it before. You may consider toning down your drinking a bit. You don't need to get drunk."

"Maybe you shouldn't have undressed me at a friend's house and maybe buzzards aren't looming at night."

"Holy cow, Andy. Buzzards will wake up first thing in the morning. Their first priority will probably be snacking on your willy."

Andy looked at me, unenthused.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken your shorts off. That was thoughtless. It was silly." I gazed intently into Andy's eyes. It'd been a while since I'd focused on those stunning baby blues.

I felt worse than he knew, a lot worse, a lot more than he would ever imagine. Andy was sliding towards the climax of his ordeal. Hopefully, it would make its way past that icy ridge.

"I enjoy removing your briefs, Andy. It's so appealing. It feels so inviting." I settled on all fours on the tub. I found his member and placed it in my mouth. Prior to your pal's gigantic member, this was a piece of cake. Delicate. Sensitive. So manageable. No choking. No coughing. I examined his face. He was getting erect again.

"Why don't we go to the bedroom, Meg. I'd like to screw you."

I grabbed the string between my legs. "I started mine yesterday, lover."

A surge of reactions whizzed by. Initially irritation. Followed by resentment. Then came relief.

"You just started your period yesteryear?" Andy muttered.

"Yes. I'm... sorry. It seemed to mess up the weekend, didn't it?" Andy's not so keen on menstrual sex. The idea never even crossed my mind to ask about.

"A little, I guess. It's okay with me, though." My spouse reached out and gently touched my cheek. "I was just flustered."

"About what? You thought I was pregnant?"

"No. There was just something bothering me, I can't even put my finger on it."

"Was it me and Dan?"

"Yes."

A knock rang from the door. "You folks used through all the hot water yet?"

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head, chuckling. Andy reddened aptly. I snatched up the towel.

"Alright, Dan. Pack yourself a sandwich. Lunch is on the grill, so hurry up and let us get Andy done."

Andy was at a loss for words. He reached out.

"I'm not completed here, cowboy."

"What?"

"I'm not done. Neither are you."

Andy reached for the soap. "Do you want to bust me off?"

"No, Andy. I want to suck you off. I want you to spurt in my mouth. I want you to flood down my throat. I want to lick it off the tip of your dick."

"Are you for real?"

"Absolutely mental, darling. Deadly serious as a heart attack. Deadly serious as a download spearing right up your kiester."

"You're serious?" he whispered.

"Completely serious, baby. Completely."

I giggled and ran my tongue along his length. "How about giving me a tongue up there instead?"

"Has Dan spiked your coffee this morning? You're acting pretty crazy," he joked.

"Do you seriously think I need to be drunk to taste your cum, Andy?"

"You've never done this before."

"Turn around," I instructed my spouse. "Grab the shower pole overhead and lean forward."

"What are you doing?" he asked, a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

"Just do as I say. Spread your legs so I can see everything you got." I gently pressed him down, urging him to bend over at the waist.

"What's happening?" he glanced over his shoulder, concern in his expression. I planted a few kisses on his bottom, gently playing with his scrotum.

"I'll do whatever I want," I murmured. I nestled my face between his butt cheeks, marveling that he'd cleaned up so well. His anal region remained pretty hairless. I gave his anus a deliberate lick then probed further, massaging his pucker.

"Ah!" he murmured with a mix of surprise and pleasure. His visage was a mix of concern and intrigue. "Where did you learn to lick butt like that?"

I hesitated, then pushed deeper, trying to keep his attention away from my admission. "Reach back and spread your cheeks for me, darling. I want to play with your dick while I'm sucking your back door. I need both of my hands."

I glided my fingers over his erection, using just the slightest pressure, opposite the strong grip of my ex in the past. This was just how my husband preferred it; he merely needed the gentlest touch at a steady, unhurried rate. "So you took Viagra last night before we went drinking, did you?"

"How did you know?" he asked, his breaths growing more rapid.

"It was apparent from your unexpected enthusiasm. Any other drugs like weed?"

Andy chose not to respond to my question. His body was now fully engaged, too consumed by the pleasure surging through him.

"I'm about to fuck your ass, honey. I'm going to fuck it so incredibly good," I spoke with excitement. I inserted my finger into his back door, stroking it in and out, as I fondled his penis with my other hand. Once I found his prostate, I kneaded it in a circular motion. His testicles contracted into a tight ball. "Tell me when you're coming. I want your load down my throat."

Needling his orgasm, I observed his overly stirred cock thrusting against me. "Flip around. Let's do this." I turned him around by his hips, positioning his cock to hover right by my mouth.

I slid out of the tub to wash my face. Then, I approached him, kneeling before him as he stood, and our lips met for a heated kiss. I fondled his hair as our tongues intertwined before anchoring my hands on his shoulders. When we broke apart, his manhood stood fully erect, my recipient of his semen.

"What's with the spit in your mouth?" he asked, bewildered.

"What are you talking about?" I queried in a tone of feigned confusion.

"Why did you put my cum in my mouth like that?"

"I don't like the taste of your seed, Andy," I replied unapologetically. "You're going to get used to it. I'm planning on eating your cum regularly. It's the same as me licking your dick when you're inside me. You get to experience your cum, while I get to experience my cum."

"But I don't like the taste," he lamented.

"Get used to it," I said coldly. I hopped back into the now-empty tub, cleaned my face using the tap, and tidied my hair. I resembled the typical girl next door, the one who wore caps, sported a ponytail, and wore her brother's bulky jersey with holes.

"Oh, and where did you learn those techniques?" he asked, a suspicious edge creeping into his voice.

Here we go, I thought. More inquiries. "Maybe I watch porn when you're asleep on the couch at night."

Andy analyzed me at the counter, unsure if I was serious. I grabbed a small plastic bag from under the sink and briefly displayed my menstrual product to him. He'd never seen me perform that act during our marriage, and the intimate display understandably repulsed him.

"Get out of the bathtub," I ordered him. "I need to clean my vagina... well, unless you'd like to do it for me."

Andy stepped on the bathmat cautiously as he observed me unravel the shower hose and spray myself. I ignored his gaze, feigning solitude. "Can you hand me a towel, please?"

Wrapping myself up in a cotton bath towel, I combed my damp, chestnut brown hair. It cascaded across my shoulders and down my spine, matching the small patch of pubic hair. I bagged a new tampon and allowed its string to hang freely between my labial folds.

"What did you discover on those porn websites you frequent?" My husband finished drying himself. He was searching for a hairdryer.

"I learned that numerous men enjoy having sex with women menstruating. There are specific platforms dedicated to this fetish."

"Sounds utterly repulsive to me, Meg."

"Sometimes you have to get a little filthy, Andy. Explore new territories. Shake things up a bit." I exited the bathroom and entered the bedroom. A freshly made cup of coffee awaited me on the bedside table... well-prepared and hot.

My clothes were neatly laid out on the bed. However, the grey cotton shorts were mine. The shirt was a three-quarter sleeve high school baseball shirt Dan wore when he played varsity. I'd seen the photos. A large PATRIOTS emblem accompanied the words "high school" and his lucky number 13 on the back. He was the MVP as a senior.

Raising the shirt over my head with no bra, I hugged my body with the material, reminiscent of Danny's powerful embrace. I hurriedly slipped on the shorts without underwear.

Andy emerged from the bathroom as I admired my reflection in the mirror. "Look what Dan selected for me to wear! It's your old high school insignia."

"It's a little large for you, don't you think?" The t-shirt fell well below my hips like a nightgown, creating the illusion that I wore nothing beneath.

"I like it this way. Very cool," I enthused excitedly. Andy lacked my enthusiasm but didn't force me to change.

Following our clothing change, Andy and I ventured to the kitchen for breakfast. We walked through the living room, and I spied a book - a photo album resting open on the coffee table. It appeared foreign and misplaced. We paused, leafing backwards to see the first image.

"What is this, Dan?" A photo of me and Andy cutting our wedding cake - he in his tux and me in my mermaid gown greeted us. I turned the page, discovering a photo collation of the entire wedding party. "Did you gift this to Andy? I didn't recall receiving these prints."

"Here are a few images from your photographer, Meg. Most of these are Susan's shots."

The pictures continued unabashedly. Page after page revealed instances of me and Dan together. Holding hands, standing alongside one another, laughing and conversing. I had no concept that Susan captured so many moments of me and Dan.

"This is a bit unsettling," Andy observed, taking the opportunity to flip through more pages with increased interest. I felt unsettled. The album overflowed with pictures of me and Dan. I stealthily retreated to the kitchen as Andy continued to scrutinize the photos.

"What's up with these photographs of us, Dan?" I tried to keep my voice low and direct my back at Andy.

Dan leaned over to inspect the oven, ensuring the kabobs had thoroughly heated. "What do you mean?"

"You're fully aware of my discomfort regarding those photos of us. Why have you left that album out, given your husband access to investigate it like a crime scene specialist?"

"I assumed you'd be interested," Dan reported. "You seemed intrigued last night and then last weekend."

"You're lying, Dan. You caused trouble by displaying those images when we just had a sexual rendezvous and left this bizarre photo album here for Andy to scrutinize. How could Susan have taken so many pictures of us? It's as though she followed us around and focused on us, as if we were the only subjects of her photography. Why did she take them, and why didn't you discard that book?"

"I'm not jealous of Andy, Megan. Susan had a thing for you."

"What?" I was perplexed.

"You didn't notice her taking pictures at the wedding and rehearsal, right?"

"I sat with her at her request, and I didn't see her taking any."

"She had a crush on you, Meg. She couldn't stop talking about you the night after the rehearsal. We had some passionate sex in our hotel room just fantasizing about sharing you."

I stared at Dan, shocked. "You mean your wife was into other women?"

"Yeah, she was. We didn't act on it much when we were together, but I loved fulfilling her little fantasy occasionally."

"But I wasn't interested in women then. It was Ashley who turned me towards them."

"Susan would've preferred you straight. She could have asked me to hold you down, maybe tie you up. She would have watched me fuck you and then took her turn on your face."

I gasped. "Would you have done that for her? Restrained me and let her rape me?"

"It was her fantasy, Meg. Not mine. It was just role play for the night in the privacy of our room. It wasn't real."

"It sounds twisted, Dan. She and I were such good friends. I never found any signs of this."

"The whole friendship was an act, Megan. She needed you to cover up her affair with Vic. She manipulated you into her scheme."

"I betrayed you, Dan. I can't believe you've forgiven me."

"I was angry at first, just like you. And yes, I confounded her plans."

"I'm happy you came back," I sighed. "And you like this shirt?"

"I do. Wearing it makes me happy. Andy is angry, but I made you wear it."

"The pants are too big now that you've shrunk them accidentally in the dryer. I only wore it to one game. It's still baggy on me."

"That's fine," I giggled. "It still looks nice on you."

"Something just struck me. You knocked on the door while I was undressing you, right?"

"That's what happened."

"Did you hear us talking?"

"I swear I didn't hear anything." Dan leaned over and kissed me. "Nice kiss."

"Thanks," I whispered softly. "My husband was asking what happened last night."

"Oh?" I couldn't help but tease him. "I told him you fucked the hell out of me in the pool."

"I don't believe you." He slipped his fingers into my pants. "So you suck him off?"

"Yes, I did." Dan's demeanor changed. "Are you jealous?"

"Very," he responded. "I left those shorts in the drawer. You can take them off if you need a place to hide them."

I raised my eyebrows. "Do you like it when I wear them?"

"A little, but it's not what I really wanted." He unzipped my pants. "Stepping out of them might leave evidence."

"You mind?" I asked nervously.

"I'll help you."

I carefully stepped out of them. "Now what?"

"I'll hide them in our secret drawer in the kitchen."

I nodded and stood up, watching Andy from the corner of my eye. "He's still in the living room."

"I'll take them there."

"Andy might find them."

"He won't. Trust me."

I sighed. "Okay."

Dan led us to the kitchen drawers. "How about we take a detour?"

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, wondering where we were headed.

"Something fun." He shoved a drawer full of oven mitts to the side and swallowed me up. "Let me help you."

My mind was wandering. "I think I left my tampon in the bathroom."

"I'll make sure to look there," he promised.

"What's with all the force?" I gasped.

"Just having fun," he smirked. "This is hot."

"I'm unsure." Dan tugged on the string to heighten the tension. "I don't understand why you asked what happens if I pull this cord."

"Are you ready?"

"I think so." He teased me by tugging the string repeatedly.

"I want you to stop!" I cried out.

"Just trying to spice things up." Dan leaned in. "I've got a treat for you."

"Why don't you stop?" I pursed my lips.

"I'll be gentle. Don't worry." He sucked on my clit.

"Oh, Dan!" My voice was rough.

"You're so wet!" He clenched my thighs. "What will happen if I pull this rope?"

"It'll be messy," I admitted, biting my lip.

"Bodily fluids everywhere?" he chuckled, as he increased the speed at which he pulled the string.

"Maybe some light bleeding..." I groaned, letting him continue. "It's not real, is it?"

"Nope." He slowed down and kissed me softly. "Are you still wet?"

"Teetering on orgasm."

"What if you left it in?"

"I'll make a mess in your mouth."

"I'll survive," he promised.

"You're going to cover my cunt with your mouth?"

"I want to taste the blood."

I gasped. "I can't have blood in your mouth!"

"It's fine." I realized I needed to calm him down if I wanted any chance at all of stopping him. "There's no need for you to turn this into a gory situation."

"Fine, I'll stop it."

"I'm okay now."

"So you're wet?"

I nodded.

"I'll be back." Dan zipped me up. "Sit down."

I obeyed. I couldn't tell if he would spare me, so I stood there shivering.

"Ready, Dan?" Andy asked.

"Yep, honey."

I listened as Dan returned to the living room. His marriage with Susan had always baffled me. The idea of them both being bisexual never crossed my mind. Now it all made sense.

Crouching down behind the counter, I spread my legs apart to keep my husband from noticing me. "Oh, God, I'm almost there!" I breathed out, trying my best to keep my noises at a minimum. Dan slowly pulled the tampon out of me, an inch at a time, making me crave his cock. He gently rubbed my clit with his thumb.

I reached my second orgasm, my legs shivering, hot liquid leaking out of my vagina. I knew I was a mess covered in blood. I muffled my moans into a dishtowel.

Andy stood up in the living room. I fell to the floor. "He's heading into the kitchen!" I cried, panicking. I had to react fast. Dan shoved his bloody, tampon-filled hand into an oven mitt.

"What the hell are you two whispering about over there?" Andy asked, completely oblivious. I pointed at my lips as I looked at Dan, who wiped the dried blood off with his tongue.

"We were checking on the shish kabobs, trying to figure out if they were cooked," I fibbed. "They smell so delicious, don't they?"

"Very!" Andy replied, taking plates from the cabinet. "What's with those strange photos, Dan? Did you secretly marry Megan at our wedding?"

"Yes, it was a secret, but now you know. We're both married to the same crazy woman," Dan replied bluntly. Andy chuckled, but I wasn't amused. "Susan took those photos, and I didn't look at them until recently. They were left behind when we split."

"I didn't notice her taking pictures," Andy said, reaching for forks. "I can't really remember much about the rehearsal or the wedding. It's like a blur. I had no idea you and Meg spent so much time together."

"We didn't, but the pictures give that impression," I argued. "She must've been standing by, taking pictures without our knowledge."

"It doesn't matter," Dan summarized as he gathered silverware and handed out napkins. "Meg was crazy, so it's better this way. She can have that jerk at the body shop. Hopefully, they'll drive each other crazy."

"Wow, she was smoking hot, though," Andy blurted out. I glared at him.

"Were you trying to screw her?" I asked, throwing down my plate on the table with a loud clang.

"Let's not create a scene," Dan advised while handing me a fork with a smile that hinted at his understanding of my jealousy.

"Did you finalize your divorce from her?" Andy asked.

Just then, the phone rang. Dan grabbed it, his face changing in discomfort. "I need to go see my grandma right now. She's hurt and lying in a pool of blood."

"What?" I gasped.

"Our neighbor found Grandma Aiken lying on the floor bleeding," Dan confirmed, grabbing his keys from the counter and running out the door.

As Andy and I arrived at Clara Aiken's house, there were sheriff deputies, a fire truck, and a rescue squad parked in the front yard. All the lights flashed, creating a spectacle in this small community. We rushed inside and followed Dan to the kitchen.

The scene was horrifying: two EMTs working over Grandma Aiken, who lay on the floor unresponsive. They were attaching a defibrillator to her chest with a weak heartbeat registering on the monitor.

"She's a nurse," Dan informed us, pulling me along to meet the women. I could see blood pooled by Clara's head and noticed no obvious injuries.

"Her breathing is ragged. Pulse registering at 30 beats per minute, no detectable systolic pressure," one EMT said, preparing an oxygen mask.

"She has agonal breathing," the other EMT reported, filling the mask and attaching it to her face. "We're starting CPR, and we need an IV." kopeknot

I hunched over and dug through the fishing tackle case, pulling out an IV catheter and bag of normal saline. The firefighters and sheriffs milled around the scene, their eyes fixed on me. I had misplaced Dan. Andy stayed back by the door, giving him a wide berth. I slid the tube into the arm and connected it to the bag, squeezing the bag with my hands to ensure the fluids would flow rapidly.

"We need a milligram of Epinephrine and an ampoule of Atropine,” I called out, rifling through the medication compartments. I came across both and injected them separately. The monitor indicated minimal response. The automated blood pressure cuff signaled a systolic reading of 50.

"We've got to pump this," one of the paramedics exclaimed. A firefighter barreled inside with a Lucas compression device. The men promptly attached it to Clara's chest and pressed the button, turning it into a hammer that ceaselessly pounded against her sternum. Her ribs splintered like twigs. They lifted her onto a gurney and wheeled her out briskly, the blood spread across the floor reflecting the light.

Dan rushed out the door, pursuing them in his truck. Andy and I followed closely behind, reaching Baptist Memorial within a few moments. Dan darted into the emergency section and engaged with the check-in nurse.

"I performed CPR on your grandmother," I clarified for her. "If the doctor requires my input on the situation, I'll relay what I know." The nurse recognized me from my previous position in the ICU. She telephoned for the physician, but he didn't pick up. We each sat down to await further instructions. Dan was a mess.

"What exactly occurred, Dan?" I placed my hand on his knee, allowing him a moment to process.

"Miss Ella stated that she and your grandmother had returned from church. Your grandmother had invited Miss Ella for lunch at her home. When Miss Ella arrived, she knocked but heard no response. She unlocked the door, entered, and discovered your grandmother on the floor unconscious. She noticed blood and thought there may have been an intruder. She made a 911 call and took refuge outside."

"Oh my god." I couldn't comprehend that anyone could have intentionally harmed Dan's grandmother. Clara Aiken was a symbol of the community, cherished by all. Ella, her neighbor, was at a distance, yet their houses were separated by such an expanse that visibility between them was minimal. It's the way of the countryside.

The same two deputies who had been present at Clara's house entered the waiting area to discuss the situation with Dan.

"Mr. Aiken, we're not convinced that your grandmother was assaulted. No fight had taken place, no missing items or indications of burglary. No signs of forced entry. It appears your grandmother fell and lost consciousness, or maybe she lost her balance."

Clara Aiken was in her mid 70s. She was in impressive shape for a woman her age, active and lively, physically fit. However, like all older people, she was vulnerable to unexpected events. Five years ago, her husband had unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack. She, too, appeared to be in good health.

Dan looked at me, his expression uncertain, expectant that I would offer some sort of explanation.

Read also:

• Acquiring Part One
• Step-Mother's Spectrum of Intimacy, Sequel 2
• The name mentioned is Hanna.
• How did she guess?

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