How High A Price - Anon

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Susan's Choice - Sequel to Troubador's How High A Price
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~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Susan's Choice - Sequel to Troubador's How High A Price.

http://www.literotica.com/s/how-high-a-price

An anonymous reader sent me this version of a finish to the Troubador's How High A Price, when he learned I was working on a sequel.

He (or she) encouraged me to finish and post it, since he was never going to get around to it. It was about 3/4 complete, enough so that I had a pretty good idea of how he wanted it to end. I did not get an email address, so I was unable to confirm that.

Yeah, kind of weird, someone asking me to Finish The Damn Story, of their own, which was finishing someone else's story. Since it only took a couple of hours all told, I figured what the hell.

My own sequel is very different, but I thought I'd throw this one out there, since it was very nearly complete, so different from mine, and only needed a little work. I only made a few dozen editing changes up to the point where the police arrived.

I'll confess this may not be the most polished story I post, but I'm back to working on my own. Please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. I did clean up dozens of errors in the original section, but I didn't go through it quite as closely as I usually do. I preferred not to change the wording or story, fixing only what was necessary to make it grammatically correct.

Obviously, this is not my usual, posting a story for an anonymous writer. I thought it was good enough to deserve putting out there, and that's how this once came about.

For information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Susan Conroy entered the foyer of the large Tudor style house, a house that used to be her home. The home she used to share with Early Conroy.

She still shared the house with Early, she even shared the bedroom with Early, but that was all she shared with Early.

And then, only when he was there.

He had been there less and less the last few days. In the week that followed her time with John Stickner.

It was after nine, she wondered if he was working late, again. He never bothered to check in with her anymore, her calls were seldom returned. If he answered at all, his response was always curt but vague, as if he didn't know what his plans were, only that they didn't include coming home.

Susan wandered towards the kitchen turning on lights as she moved through the empty rooms. It didn't help. No amount of light could permeate the gloom of an abandoned house, although they physically still occupied the premise there was no longer any life.

Just habitation and coexistence.

Undecided on another meal alone or just to bed, Susan peeked into the fridge to see if anything looked appetizing. The bottom shelf held a couple cases of Early's favorite beer, he kept it well stocked with his favorite brands and always seemed to have one on hand when he was in residence.

With a sigh Susan decided on a cup of tea. She wouldn't drink anything alcoholic, not even a glass of wine with dinner, she was afraid once she started drinking she wouldn't be able to stop.

It would be so easy to get lost in an alcoholic haze; Early made it look too easy.

Damn him, she thought, why is he making this so difficult? Why can't he just set his foolish male ego aside and realize it was a onetime thing. Why couldn't he believe she loved him and that her love affair with John Stickner took nothing away from her feelings for him and their marriage.

Although more than twenty years older, the fact that a distinguished and extremely powerful senior partner like John Stickner had taken a professional, and personal interest in her flattered Susan to no end. His desire for her had been unspoken and subtle, and yet she could still feel his need for her.

John always seemed so alone, and so dedicated to his work that his wife had left him because of it. Socially he was always accompanied by a variety of charming, graceful, beautiful women, but seldom the same one more than twice. "Master of the short term relationship," he had once lamented to Susan about his life after divorce.

Of course she loved John, he was her mentor and friend but it was not the same love she felt for her husband. Susan almost worshiped John Stickner but on a purely intellectual, professional level; the man was a practically a legend in the industry.

Somehow she had thought that if she could have properly explained her infatuation to Early, he would have understood and even agreed to let her share her "special gift" with John. It could have been a present from both of them, a gift of love from Early and Susan, to a lonely man who had so unselfishly mentored and guided Susan.

~ * ~ * ~

Even after Early had found them out, she loathed admitting it to herself that she still felt that attraction.

Their first night had been idyllic, their love making slow and sensuous. Being older he was not able to recover, and repeat the performance as her more virile young husband could, but his size was impressive, and he had enough stamina to allow her an orgasm, before he finished.

They spent the rest of the time holding each other, talking and sharing their life stories into the small hours of the morning.

They had made love the following morning, then later in the pool, and again after lunch on the kitchen table. John had said that it had made him feel like a kid again, and that he had never imagined sex in the kitchen.

They both felt wonderfully wicked, for the rest of the weekend Susan and John would giggle like silly children every time they sat down at the kitchen table.

Susan would leer at him and ask him what he wanted to eat, while slowly inching her jeans down. Sunday morning she had actually climbed onto the table and knelt before John so her wet pussy was right at eye level, less than two feet from John's nose. Using both hands to massage each side of her slit, her little clit would slide in and out of its sheath with a soft wet sound, filling the air with the smell of her arousal.

In a husky voice she announced: "Breakfast is served." John had grabbed her ass cheeks and slid her forward on to his tongue, where he brought her to a series of mind numbing climaxes.

~ * ~ * ~

On the last day, as a special treat, Susan had let John take her anally while they stood naked on the balcony.

After "overheating" in the hot tub, Susan wrapped herself in a towel and was admiring the woodland view from the Jacuzzi deck, while John had gone to get more wine. As John came through the French doors and saw Susan silhouetted against the panoramic view, he set the decanter down, stepped up from behind and nibbled at the base of her neck while cupping her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers and the soft terrycloth fabric. As their passion increased the towel soon fell away and Susan began grinding her ass into John's growing erection. As John had grown harder he simply worked himself deeper and deeper into her.

John began massaging Susan's exposed breasts squeezing and kneading from the base to the now very hard tips, Susan reached down to her vulva and began to finger herself, while slowly bucking her hips to match John's rhythm. After a few minutes her knees became so weak she could barely stand, her body was trembling, and her breathing had become shallow and rapid. She had never felt such intensity. Her center had become so wet and sensitive that she couldn't seem to finger herself fast enough, her shaved labia had turned bright red and was oozing in an almost continuous flow through her fingers and down her inner thigh.

She had to lean back onto John's chest, her hips pumping faster and faster to match the rhythm of her fingers, her other hand reaching behind her grasping desperately at the back of John's neck trying to pull his lips even closer to the nape of her neck. She could tell he was getting close, as his hot breath grew ragged on her neck, and the pressure on her nipples increased to almost painful.

In anticipation of her pending orgasm Susan leaned back hard against John and thrust her hips forward as far she could, her whole hand vibrating her exposed clit with lightning speed as he twisted her nipples mercilessly and began moving in and out of her in short powerful strokes.

Susan never realized or cared that anybody passing through the woods below, could see her lewd jittering while suspended on John Stickner's cock. In one long howl of pleasure Susan experienced the most powerful orgasm of her life, as he emptied himself into her bowel.

She knew she was going to have to introduce her husband to the joys of anal sex. Once more, John Stickner was her mentor.

~ * ~ * ~

The long week-end with John had passed all too quickly, Susan was invigorated and felt on top of the world, her career was on a fast track to partnership plus an exciting new level of intimacy with her mentor, John Stickner.

Which made her confrontation with Early on that evening all the more painful, from top of the world to Hell in less than a minute.

John had told her not to despair and had even offered to talk to Early and explain that he was not a threat to him. He said he would be there for her if she needed his help, he had offered to let her stay in his guest room if she needed a place to stay for awhile.

Or if, God forbid, Early threw her out.

She remembered the opulent luxury of his home. The offer was very tempting.

Her reverie was broken as Early walked past her, and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

Susan jumped. "God! You startled me! When did you get home?"

"Left work early, not feelin' too good, I was layin' down upstairs, heard you come in. Thought I better get another beer."

Early looked like hell. He hadn't shaven or bathed in days, Susan hated to see him like this.

If he ate at all it wasn't at home. He was gaunt, his look haunted, and those beautiful blue eyes were lusterless, red rimmed, and watery.

Whether from drinking or crying, Susan didn't know.

"Where's your car?"

"No car," he mumbled, "sent me home in a cab."

"Who sent you home in a cab? Early, what's wrong? Tell me what happened!" Susan was starting to worry.

"Nothing, nothing at all," he slurred. "Everything's fine, just dandy and swell."

"You're drunk!"

"Nope! Correction! Was drunk! I'm fine now, just dandy and swell," Early said waving his finger at her, as though admonishing a naughty child.

"Oh God, Early! You can get fired for drinking at work."

"Nope!" the finger came up again, to make his point, "Jus' send me home inna cab." He tried to grin but it looked more like a grimace.

"They wouldn't fire me, I'm their best one. I can fix all their problems, just can't fix my own."

He popped the tab and took a huge gulp, puffing out his cheeks and holding his head back to let the cold liquid trickle down his throat.

He turned to leave.

"Early, wait!" Susan grabbed his arm gently. "We've got to talk this through."

"I don wanna hear it anymore, Susan. I can't talk about it. I just can't get my head around any of this."

Early's voice was so soft, she almost didn't hear the last sentence. "The most important negotiation of my life, and I just can't see the light."

"We're closing the Melrose deal tomorrow, and this Saturday is the awards banquet at Marriott-Regency. I expect they will announce my partnership. You know how hard I've worked for this."

Yeah, on your back! Early thought to himself, but said nothing aloud.

"It's important to me that you be there to share this with me. You know what it means to me. To us. I worked hard for both of us. I want you to be proud of me." Susan was pleading, hoping Early would agree. It would be difficult to make excuses for Early not being there. "Please Early, you have to be there with me."

"Your boyfriend gonna be there?" Early asked.

"Damn it! Early, he's not my boyfriend. He's your friend too, he's just as devastated as you are about this, he never wanted to come between us."

"Ooh I'll just bet he is," he said, his voice oozing sarcasm. "I think all he wanted to cum between - was your legs! And you let'em. How many times Susan? Once? Twice? Twenty? Was it good Susan? Was it? Was he bigger than me? Was he better? WAS HE?"

Early couldn't help himself. He was starting to shout. The pent up anger of the past week was starting to overpower his self control, the alcohol was beginning to talk for him.

He stepped closer to within inches of her face. "The last thing that you want," he said between clenched teeth, "is for your lover boy to be in the same room with me. I just might forget my naturally sunny disposition and kick his fucking ass!"

"Or maybe you don't think your poor wimp of a husband can kick Mr. big, rich and powerful John fucking Stickner's ass?"

Susan withered under Early's glare. Her heart broke again. She wanted to die. Staring into Early's eyes she now saw only pain and rage, no warmth, no compassion, no love.

Slowly she sank to her knees, and clasped her hands in front of her, her eyes never leaving Early's.

"I'm begging you Early, please forgive me, I'm on my knees begging you to forgive me. Early I love you so much, and this is destroying me. I beg you to find it in your heart to forgive me. If you can't forgive me then just kill me. Please! Just kill me now." Susan just knelt with tear streaked cheeks staring into the ice blue eyes of her soul mate, praying for salvation, or finish.

Either way she just didn't care anymore, she let her arms drop to her side and just hung her head waiting for it to end.

Early looked down at his wife and felt a brief moment of compassion. "Kill you? I could never kill you. I-I-I love you, uhh, I loved you...once!"

His gaze hardened again. "DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL, SUSAN! I HATE you, and I hate what you did to us. I can't love you any more, I CAN'T!"

"You gave yourself to someone else. You gave me up for your job and for John fucking Stickner. You go to him every day, then come home and say you love me too. I can't be part of your little threesome I won't be your cuckold wimp!"

"Oh Early, I don't think that. I wanted to share our love..." Before Susan could finish, Early threw the nearly full beer can down at her, it smashed into the floor inches from her knees, exploding and spewing white froth all over Susan.

Then silence.

Susan trembled and looked up, her eyes pleading, searching for some sign of love or compassion.

Early met her gaze and leaned down inches from her face, the hardness had returned to his voice and eyes. "DIE!! You want to DIE?"

"You don't deserve to DIE, slut! You deserve to live with yourself!"

That realization hurt Susan as much as any kick or punch could have. She looked up at Early. "Please Early, I love you, I love you with all my heart. We're soul mates! You know we are soul mates, we belong together."

Early just glared at her. "SHIT!!! To HELL with you!!!" he spit in her face then turned and walked out the front door.

Dazed, Susan didn't know how long she knelt in the middle of the kitchen floor soaked in beer, Early's spittle mixing with the tears on her cheeks. She finally used the edge of the counter to lever herself up.

Susan decided she needed that drink now.

~ * ~ * ~

The sound of a phone ringing. She opened her eyes one at a time and sat up. The agony was excruciating. She couldn't remember, had Early hit her? Her head felt like it had been pounded with a tire iron.

Her eyes wouldn't focus. She wondered if this is what a concussion felt like.

Susan was laying nude cross-wise in her bed with her clothes in a stinking pile next to her. She lurched for the phone, sending the mostly empty Gin bottle clattering to the hardwood floor. The sound was deafening, Susan winced in pain. The phone started its ringing again.

The second attempt was more successful and she succeeded in bringing the hand set to her ear. "Hullo?"

"Susan, where the hell are you? I've been calling, and calling you! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! What are you doing? Why are you still at home?"

It was a familiar voice, which was asking way too many hard questions. Susan's head then her stomach started to spin.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Susan tried to make it to the bathroom, but collapsed as soon as she tried to stand, ending up on her hands and knees and vomiting onto the throw rug next to her canopy bed. Still retching, she crawled towards the bathroom.

By the time she reached the toilet, she felt pretty much emptied, and decided to flop into the bath tub instead.

When she reached to turn the water on she noticed she was still clutching the cordless phone handset.

"Hullo?" she asked again, reaching with the other hand to turn on the tap. She couldn't hear the voice very well as an icy stream of water started to fill the tub. She quickly twisted the handle to add some heat.

"Huh? Can't hear you." She jammed a finger into one ear, and pressed the phone tightly to the other.

"We need the Melrose contracts. We're supposed to be there in twenty minutes," came John Stickner's voice faintly over the sound of running water. "How soon can you meet us there?"

"Can't meet you," she muttered. "I'm sick."

"Sick? Susan what's the matter? What happened?" John voice was going from irritated to concerned. "You have the finished contracts. We need them. Susan? Susan can you hear me?"

Susan stared dully at the phone, and nodded her head.

"Are you okay? Susan! Are you there? Can you hear me?" John was getting really worried.

Susan realized a verbal response was needed. "I'm here. I can hear you," was all she managed in a hoarse whisper.

John didn't know what was going on, but he sensed something was wrong. He had to get to Susan.

"Listen, Jenson and I are on the road now. We're going to swing by your place. Everything will be okay. We should be there in about ten minutes. Okay?"

"I'm sick," Susan rasped, and dropped the phone into the half full tub. She leaned back into the soothing water and nodded off.

At some point she must have turned the water off, because the next thing she heard was somebody ringing the doorbell, pounding on the front door, and shouting her name.

Susan was trying to drag herself out of the tub, but kept slipping back in, her arms and legs weren't functioning well or as coordinated as she needed.

She started to cry. With grim determination she managed to pull herself up and not fall over again, even though she thought she might faint. Leaning against the wall to hold her up, sobbing uncontrollably, she struggled out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the frantic pounding at the front door.

John Stickner, beside himself with worry, stepped back and put a well placed kick to the door knob. The front door burst open, hitting Susan in the process. Startled and miserable, Susan started to wail in earnest.

John rushed to the nearly hysterical Susan and swept her up into his arms. She was holding her head, and he saw what looked like a welt on her face.

"Oh my God, Susan! What happened? Are you alright?" John removed his coat and draped it around the naked and trembling Susan, he hugged her closer.

"It's okay baby, everything is going to be alright. He didn't hurt you did he? Come on, let's get you set down and tell me what happened." John started to lead her towards the couch in the adjacent living room.

The same couch Early had passed out on the night before, after staggering home drunker than when he had left. The commotion had also eventually soaked through booze induced slumber and awakened Early who had sat up suddenly to see his nearly naked wife in the arms of John fucking Stickner.

"You son of a bitch!" Early shouted. Being a seasoned drinker, he did not have the same coordination or hangover issues that Susan was suffering from.