Lucid Ending

Karen's walls expanded to accommodate his size. Her fleshy canal clenched around his member and she could feel the ridge of his head as he slid deeper into her. She held her breath and closed her eyes as his entire length finally nestled inside her.

"Come to me," she said, oozing acute arousal with every word.

He lay down on her, feeling her breasts cushion his chest, his hands cradling her head and wrapping her curls around his fingers. Slowly he began to draw back before pushing forward again. Her hands dug into his back as they established a slow rhythm.

Each thrust sank him inside her fully. She groaned with passion each time he began pushing in.

"Why did we wait so long?" she gasped.

"I don't know. I have always wanted you. The other day at breakfast, it took all my self control not to push you over the kitchen counter and take you right there."

"Don't restrain yourself next time."

Her walls hugged him tightly, squeezing his erection. Suddenly, he thrust deeply into her and hit her cervix. Karen felt his balls against her drenched lips as he bottomed out inside her.

She felt the impact of the last thrust in the pit of her stomach and felt a twinge of pain.

"Are you okay?"

She smiled sweetly, her face covered with sweat.

"That feels incredible, Adrian."

He slowly retracted till his head was just inside her lips and suddenly slammed back inside her again. She loved the feeling of sudden impact against her G-spot.

Soon the tempo changed to a faster pace. He began pulling back and entering her with long strokes at a languid pace and she used her legs wrapped around him for leverage and pulled herself up to meet his thrusts.

Her legs gradually dropped until they were around his hips. This gave him the angle to plunge even deeper inside her.

"I want you Adrian. You're all I want, all I need. You and that hot cock of yours."

She sat up and engulfed him in a sweaty hug. Her nipples pressed against his chest as her nails dug into his back. They made small scratches, but he didn't care.

He ground his pelvis into her and she rolled her hips against him. Her hard clit was stimulated between their bodies as his shaft dug into her depths. The speed had now reached its maximum as they desperately bucked and thrashed against each other with an animalistic fury.

He slowed down, waiting for her to get closer to her climax. She nodded, letting him know she was close.

"Cum in me. I want you to shoot your seed into me."

Unable to hold himself any longer, he let loose, spewing load after load of his seed deep inside her. She had an orgasm at the same time and her cum flowed around his hardness onto his pubic hair.

Karen screamed over and over again. Her vocal cords were strained to their limit and would leave her hoarse for a while, but she did not care.

This was the first time in her life she had someone worth screaming for.

He rolled off her and lay on his back, regaining his breath. She held her hand at the entrance of her spent vagina, unwilling to let his precious fluid seep out.

"Wow, that was a lot of cum. I could feel each burst as you emptied into me. So much lovely cum."

"That's right Karen. Adrian Carmichael, seminal legend." * *

The expansive offices on the top floor of Griffin, Markham and Wiley were silent. The city's top law firm catered only to the rich and famous, meaning they had few cases. But the few were all expensive.

Tom Markham sat in his office poring over a dubious contract signed in a moment of weakness by one of his clients. He cursed his luck as he found more and more potential loopholes their rivals could exploit. He knew he would eventually win the case, but he had not yet figured out how.

Manhattan's most expensive lawyer was not be disturbed. His office line was disconnected.

He was jolted out of his concentration when he heard a phone ring. It was his private number, something only a select few people knew about. And the fact that they used it could not be good news.

"Tom Markham speaking."

"Tom, it's Karen," said a desperate voice on the other end.

"Karen. What happened? Is your brother...." he didn't have the heart to finish the question.

"No. Well, not yet anyway. I wanted your advice on how to overturn a court order granting medical custody of Adrian to someone else."

She told him about her saga and he listened patiently taking down notes.

"My guess is they got a crooked judge, or maybe a dumb one, to sign the court order. No dearth of either kind in the city. We could appeal against it and move it through to a judge who owes me a favour. But...."

"But what Tom?"

"It will still take a long time. Especially in a case such as this where there is little legal precedent. I'll see what I can do."

Karen shut the phone and looked down at Adrian.

"Tom is on it. He'll find a way. I know he will."

"Your tone wasn't so happy during the conversation," said Adrian, seeing through her guise.

She was about to break down when he spoke up.

"Seeing you cry hurts me much more than this chemo ever could, Karen. I promise, I will take this pain and smile, if you will smile with me."

She choked back the rest of her tears and forced a smile.

"That's better, now put your hand back on my thigh. It felt nice there."

"I never removed it," she said, her surprise turning to horror.

Adrian could not feel her hand any more. He would never again feel anything from the waist down. * *

"I will not stand for this. Not under my roof."

The bombastic voice of Victor Carmichael echoed throughout his expansive room. Adrian had just broken the news to him about his relationship.

"He is your step-brother, Karen. This is incest," said Karen's mother in a heavy tone.

"No it isn't," Karen angrily interjected, "Adrian and I are unrelated. I refuse to let your sham of a marriage come in the way of our love."

"Don't you speak to me like that," came the sharp retort.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?" said Victor, fixing Adrian with an accusing glare.

Adrian was silent till then, standing quietly in the corner by himself. He walked up to Karen's side and composed himself. Taking one look to his left to see the face he adored, he started.

"I love her and I am going to make her my wife. You don't deserve her as a daughter-in-law, but such is life. We don't always get what we deserve."

A black anger built up inside Victor's head. No one had stood up to him like this. Ever.

"No you won't."

"Why? Give me one good reason."

"Because I forbid it. You are not to marry that tramp," was the simple reply.

This caused something to snap inside Adrian. His face darkened and he let loose. Almost two decades of pent up anger at his father unleashed itself in a massive inferno of fiery rhetoric.

"TRAMP! YOU DARE CALL HER A TRAMP!"

He lunged and would have landed a punch had Karen not held onto his shirt with all her might.

"You of all people have no right to question relationships. Cheating on my Mom every single fucking day of her married life. Those women were tramps and you were nothing more than a dog in heat wearing a suit and tie, fucking whatever moved. And now you dare call her a tramp when the only tramp in this room is beside you?"

Alice rose to defend herself but Karen beat her to the word.

"Speak of the tramp and she rises. Do you even fucking know who my father is? The best guess you can offer is your third husband, but it could just as easily have been any of his three brothers, the Greek shipping magnate, the butler, the air force pilot or anybody on the board of directors in your darling hubby's company. Tell me, did I miss anyone you were fucking at the time?"

Holding hands, the two of them stood in the centre of the room, before she spoke again.

"What Adrian and I have is love, an emotion that neither of you are capable of feeling. So do us a favour and get the fuck out of the way."

"How dare you..." was all she managed before Victor cut her off.

"If you continue this relationship, the two of you will have hell to pay. You have no idea how far my influence goes. I have contacts in law enforcement and the justice department who will hunt you down and make your lives hell. Mark my words, you will never have a moment's peace," he said, with a satisfied grin, convinced that he had put paid to their dreams.

Karen turned to Adrian, with a smile writ large on her face. Adrian sheepishly took out a note from his pocket and gave it to her.

"Told you he wouldn't listen to us first time round. These fine specimens need some more persuasion."

"Yeah," said Adrian ruefully, "I thought you were smarter than that, Dad. Guess I thought wrong. Now for Plan B."

"Plan B," said Alice, puzzled, "What's going on here?"

"You explain to them, honey. It was your idea after all," said Adrian, holding back his laughter.

"You're too kind," said Karen and kissed him on the cheek before continuing.

"That company that you gave Adrian for his last birthday, Kistler plc. It makes high end electrical devices like miniature cameras."

The first hint of tension showed on his face.

"Adrian had some of them discreetly put in your manor in the countryside, and you'll never guess what we saw."

On cue, Adrian took out an envelope of pictures from his pocket. The colour drained from the married couple's faces as they took the envelope with trembling hands and opened it.

"The camera takes a photo every 15 minutes. These were the highlights," said Adrian, with a wide grin.

Victor dropped the photos in horrified surprise.

"Who would have thought the suave industrialist, fine-art connoisseur, entrepreneur extroardinaire Victor Carmichael liked dressing up in frilly laced thongs and fishnets while his wife made him jerk off for her viewing pleasure?" said Adrian, having waited ages for this moment.

Karen spoke up next.

"That wasn't all. Turns out Victor's wife likes the houseboy a LOT. And Victor likes watching them. We have such tantalizing shots of the three of you."

Even as the Carmichaels shuffled through the stack of photos, aghast, the young couple smiled.

The parents were no longer a problem.

A couple of weeks later, the parents passed away in a sailing "accident". A storm dragged their yacht into a small reef jutting out from the far side of the Hudson. They might have had a clearer view of it and been able to take evasive action had they not been staring at each other's genitalia. The press lamented their deaths, but the tabloids had more fun with the rather feminine attire Victor was wearing, true to the end. * *

Karen's eyes were red from the lack of sleep. Her head slumped to the side, but her hand steadfastly held onto his. Adrian slept most of the time now. Fatigue was heavy in every bone as she slouched in the chair, her body teetering on somnambulism.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening woke her up. A broad-grin and grey eyes met her gaze as she composed herself in her chair.

"Kurt?" she exclaimed as the tall, lanky man came closer to her.

Adrian had woken up at this sudden intrusion as well. He opened his eyes into narrow slits and surveyed his cousin from Boston.

"Kurt. Nice to see you made it."

"Yeah. I came to see you. You don't look so good," he said with a thick accent.

"Yeah, no shit. These guys won't even let me die in peace. Pumping me with triple the normal dose of chemo in a last ditch attempt. This thing hurts worse than the cancer itself."

Unsure how to best fake sympathy, Kurt sat down on the couch opposite the bed. He sat nervously for a few minutes, crossing and uncrossing his legs, unsure of how to ask the question.

"What do you want, Kurt?" said Adrian hoarsely.

"Well the reason I came here, the reason Dad sent me was to...."

Karen narrowed her eyes suspiciously as the Wharton educated ass in front of her fumbled with his words.

"I want to assure you that your company is in good hands even after you ... will not be with us any more," he said, forcefully injecting emotion into his voice, adding, "though I dearly pray you survive this."

"I'm sure you do," said Adrian with the hint of a chuckle.

"Yes," he said, gaining some confidence. "I have graduated from Wharton and have already made a few millions investing in some start-ups. I promise to raise Carmichael Industries to new heights."

Adrian eyed the pompous cunt disinterestedly.

"Good news for the company I guess."

"I'd love to stay, but I have an urgent meeting in an hour," he said.

"It's okay. Thanks for stopping by."

Five minutes later he was strutting in front of the cameras lining the corridor, the concerned cousin and next in line at the head of a business empire.

"Asshole," said Adrian under his breath.

Karen, who had been silent throughout the entire episode, turned to face him.

"Pompous douche. Can't wait for me to kick the bucket before he gets my majority stake. At least that's what he thinks."

"What?" blurted out Karen, "He is your closest blood relative."

"In truth, I am sick of my blood. It's time someone else took charge. My greatest regret about dying is not seeing his face when my will is read."

"Why?" she said, still puzzled.

"All the shares in my name go to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Lowering her voice to a hushed whisper, she said,

"Are you serious?"

"As serious as lung cancer," he said with a sheepish grin, "The board appointed me CEO because they wanted a 'man' in-charge, but I always considered you to be a better leader. A better person."

"But Adrian...."

"No buts. Take charge of the company. Make me proud."

She held his hand tightly and kissed it.

"I will, I promise."

His gaze turned to her wedding ring. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship--twenty four carat gold embossed with sapphires and a flawless D diamond in the centre.

"Remember our wedding, honey," he said, looking up at her face.

She nodded. She could never forget it. * *

Words set actions into motion. When Adrian brought up the word "marriage" over breakfast, just mentioning a possibility for the future, it touched a nerve inside Karen.

Twenty-four hours and a long flight later, they were in San Marino. She had promised him a surprise but he had hardly thought it would involve an impromptu trans-Atlantic flight. The small nation of San Marino, on the windward side of the Apennines, is the oldest sovereign nation in the world.

This picturesque state-nation was far away from the prying eyes of anyone they knew. The entire decision took about fifteen minutes in her head.

"You should know, I'm not a fan of surprises," said Adrian as he boarded the private jet.

"I bet that will change after today," she whispered seductively into his ear. "And it will definitely change after tonight."

That was enough for him as he rushed into the refurbished Concorde. The supersonic aircraft meant it was a four hour journey.

Four hours meant enough fucking to book a hall of fame spot in the Mile High Club.

The plane taxied to a halt as they hurriedly got dressed. They had travelled incognito. A lone car waited at the airfield to take them to Castle Faetano.

The scenic beauty of the place was striking, but they did not even look at the multitude of meadows and forests that they went through. Their eyes were fixed on each other. To them, no scenery was more gorgeous than the other.

Two stone gargoyles flanked the gates as a winding road led up hill to the castle itself. It was one of Victor's lesser properties around the world, serving as his bachelor pad whenever he was in Italy for business.

The castle was a few miles outside the main state. It was perched on top of a high cliff, precariously overlooking the Adriatic Sea. The castle itself was built as part of a large fortress defending against invasions by sea. The grandeur took their breath away as Karen held his hand and entered.

It was exactly what he had always wanted- to be far away from his toxic family. To only be with the person he loved the most.

"But.. but.." Adrian stammered, "I don't have a ring."

"Keep walking. It's all taken care of."

Flummoxed, he followed her as she walked up the spiral staircase leading up the keep. At the very top, there was a small door opening into a narrow vestibule. Curiously, he followed her into it. What he saw on the other side blew him away.

The roof of the castle gave them an unparalleled view of the sheer cliffs all along the coast giving way to the cerulean sea. A few fishing vessels dotted the azure horizon. Waves crashed against the rocky shore, foaming and frothing.

The sun was about to set, spreading a lustrous hue across the sky. The red shade streaked across the middle of the calm water, illuminating a sail or two. The waves hitting the breakers caused a thin mist at the foot of the cliffs, sparkling in the sunlight.

On the other side, the Apennine mountain range was bathed in the glow of the setting sun. The slope shone brightly all the way from the foot of the castle to the peak, which dazzled. The combination formed a kaleidoscope of nature that very few get to see.

But Adrian did not see it. All he saw was the sun lighting up the face of the woman who was soon to be his wife. A man came up and handed him a small box.

"I thought the groom gets to pick the ring," he grumbled as he opened it. His face was frozen in an expression of awe.

"The one you had in mind, right?" she said, expectantly.

"Y-yes, but how did you know?"

"That you would have wanted to give me your mother's ring?" she said. "Let's just call it intuition."

An elderly cleric presided over the ceremony. The three of them were ready to begin. The ceremony went on in classic Latin.

"Ego facere."

"Ego facere."

The language did not matter, the place did not matter. In the end, it was their intrinsic love that shone through, brighter than the diamond about to be placed on Karen's finger.

Four years after his mother had passed, her ring was worn by the only other person who loved him unconditionally.

"Kiss me, stupid," said Karen, stomping on the floor indignantly.

"Oh," he blurted, shaken out of his reverie. He had lost himself in the wonder and spontaneity of the moment.

"Ugh, guys," she said, rolling her eyes. Not waiting any longer, she grabbed his head and forcefully pressed her soft lips against his. The first few moments passed in total shock for him. His tongue seemed paralysed as she plunged her tongue deep into his mouth. Her arms wrapped around his head and she gently sank into the kiss. This kiss was deep and passionate as he began to respond as well. Their tongues played together to the last embers of the setting sun. She leaned closer until her lips were level with his ear, "You're going to have to be more eager during the night." * *

The latest dose of chemo had been particularly brutal. He shuddered and thrashed in his bed, writhing in unbearable agony.

"Honey, hold my hand. Don't let go."

He arched his back off the bed and shook violently. Doctors rushed in and injected him with various drugs. The sedatives only seemed to aggravate his pain and the painkillers were utterly useless. His ravaged immune system lashed out at everything pushing his fever to 106.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes to block out the pain, but it couldn't be done. His skin felt like it was on fire one moment, entombed in ice the next. A white hot torrent of pain went down his throat.

Pain was no longer a word or a concept, it was his only reality.

His limbs felt like they were racked repeatedly and his sinews were burning. He tried curling into a ball, but it only made the IV cut deeper into his skin drawing some blood from his frayed vein. Finally, he just could not hold back any more and let out a scream. A blood-curdling shriek which made Karen's heart stop.