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Grim wrapped his lips around my cock, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. I cried out as my cum gushed into his hot mouth. I drove into him violently, knocking him back against the table. He moaned as he swallowed every drop of my cum.
Poe grunted as he shoved his cock deep inside Bailey’s mouth. “Yeah, fuck, suck it just like that.” She choked as she took it, her lips swollen from the size of him.
Grim slid his lips down to my shaft, humming as I twitched against him. “You taste so fucking good,” he breathed.
Bailey reached out to us. “Kiss me.”
Poe untied her wrists, rubbing them as they fell lifeless beside her.
Without hesitating, Grim went to her and plunged his tongue into her mouth.
I traced my fingers up her leg, over her belly, and across her breasts. Her nipples were still pebbled. We took turns kissing her, savoring the taste of each other on her tongue.
It was as good as breathing. And since we didn’t technically do that anymore, touching her was better than breathing.
Bailey
The longer I lived in this house, the stronger a nagging feeling grew in my belly. It was only when we played these dirty games with each other that it went away. When they opened me up and fucked me raw.
Feelings of dread and uneasiness had followed me my whole life. Ever since my parents died. But it got worse the summer after graduation. All the parties I went to were nothing but a temporary distraction. They couldn’t drown out the noise in my head. No amount of alcohol could chase away the darkness growing inside my chest.
I felt like I was slowly losing my mind. And I couldn’t figure out why. But there was something inside me that wouldn’t let me rest. Only the vile and depraved acts of Poe, Grim, and Saint could.
But with each passing day, my dread threatened to suffocate me. I was thinking more and more about the past. I had questions about the fire that killed my parents. Questions no one could answer. And I was too young to remember. According to the police report, the fire was caused by a gas leak. So how did I survive? It was perfectly clear on paper but still made zero sense in my head.
I let out a frustrated sigh as I flicked my windshield wipers on. The rain was coming down so hard I could barely see the road. The clouds shrouded the town in darkness, making everything gray and muted. It was strangely beautiful, though. And comforting. Like all of my melancholy had spilled out onto the streets while the town itself held it up, embracing every twisted thought in my head. It was ethereal, a perfectly gloomy day to search for answers.
I parked in front of the Wickford Hollow Library and made a mad dash for the entrance, cursing myself for forgetting my umbrella again. In just three minutes, I was soaked and dripping water all over the library’s marble floors. The woman behind the front counter sneered at me and shook her head as I sloshed over to her.
“Hi. Um, sorry about the water on the floor.”
She peered up through her pointy glasses and pursed her lips. “How can I help you?”
Of course, it would be too much to ask of at least one person in this town for any kindness.
I glanced down at her nametag. “Right. Well, Mary, I need to find some news articles.”
She winced as if the sound of her own name on my tongue might kill her. “Computers are over there.”
I glanced in the direction she pointed and shook my head. “No, I need to look at old newspaper articles.” The internet could doctor anything. I had to see the originals.
Mary the librarian rolled her eyes and pointed to another corner. “We only have one microfilm machine left. You know how to use it?”
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
She blew out a sigh of relief. This woman didn’t want to spend a second longer talking to me. She was yet another person I made uncomfortable just by existing.
After about twenty minutes of looking through the microfilm, I gathered all the ones that contained articles from the year of the fire, and I even snatched up any that had the keywords Wickford Hollow and fire in them. Just in case.
As I loaded the first one into the machine, a group of young girls whispered and gawked at me as they passed. They couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. Jesus, what were these people teaching their children?
I flashed them a wicked grin. “You know it’s not polite to stare at strangers,” I called out a little too loudly. The girls giggled as they scrambled away.
Mary pressed her finger to her lips and shushed me. The bitch actually shushed me. I snickered before directing my focus back to the machine.
I loaded the film that had the actual date of the fire listed and scrolled through all the articles. There’s never been a whole lot going on in Wickford Hollow so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.
The Wickford Daily Hollow was no big city newspaper. The articles alone were sheer proof of that. I stifled multiple yawns as I poured through endless articles about city council elections and petty neighborhood squabbles. I couldn’t believe how many times someone’s cat got stuck in a tree. And how many times someone chose to write about it.
