The Revenge of the White Rose

Two weeks after that.

Renee stepped off the plane, smooth and tanned. Not too tanned; she preferred it light. Besides, she tended to freckle.

Jack was there, waiting. She was mildly surprised. He rarely picked her up at the airport, too busy with some project or other. He held a sign that said, "Renee Tellmon," probably meant as humor.

Renee snorted, inwardly; she didn't find it funny. She'd rather be back in Cancun, preferably with Derek. She'd have found a way to get him there. A few of the waiters and concierges were distractions, and so was the masseur, but Derek was missed. She sighed, Time to play the dutiful wife. What's the surprise he talked about?

"So, did you have fun?" he asked on the way home.

"A little."

"That's good, but the real fun's going to start when we get home."

They pulled into the driveway; Renee noticed no difference. The house looked the same. It was when they entered that the first hint of change came to her nose. The smell of the new; new paint, new wood, new masonry, but not in the living room. "I smell remodeling," she smiled.

"Yep," Jack replied, grinning.

"So where is it?"

"Well, that's the surprise," Jack produced a handkerchief.

Renee smirked and took the cloth. She tied it over her eyes and let Jack lead her upstairs. "That idiot better not have demolished my house," she fumed. Renee was the one who picked out this place, and the neighborhood. She hired the best interior decorators, with Jack's money. Now her dear, darling, loving husband had undone all that hard work. She made a promise to fuck Derek extra long and hard in their next meeting.

The couple stopped; she heard him open a door. "The bedroom," she guessed. The only other rooms on the floor were the guest room, the bathroom, and the linen closet. It didn't make much sense to remodel them. He led her in and removed the blindfold; Renee gasped.

The first image that struck her was the color. Everything was white but not uniform exactly. Her discerning eye recognized the different shades and tones: bone white for the new dress cabinet, cream for the plush new carpet, silver brass frame for the brand new queen-sized bed, piled high with pillows, sheets, and covers whose thread counts, she suspected, passed the hundreds.

The walls gleamed with new white brick and marble paneling. One wall had been taken down and replaced with thick glass bricks. The other side was the remodeled bathroom, also done in white, more spacious than the old one. She also noticed the visibility of the shower's interior from the bedroom.

The old windows to the bedroom were gone and replaced with one expansive window, offering a view of the lush back yard.

In the room, there were roses, white roses, everywhere; at the window sill, around the bed, hanging in bunches from the ceiling. The scent of roses saturated the room. Renee recognized the theme. Our wedding. Well I picked the flowers . . .

The romantic gesture should have pierced her black heart, and something close to pity nearly did, but the near emotion passed quickly. Still, she had an act to perform, "Oh Jack! It's . . . It's . . ."

"I know," Jack said, turning her around, "I thought you would like a reminder of our wedding. You love roses."

Renee smiled, insincere, and hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered, maintaining the lie. Yes, she liked roses. No, she didn't like the reminder of her wedding; a grueling chore by any of her standards. Renee had nearly cracked then, but all she had to do was visualize the look on her parents' faces.

When Renee's parents met Jack, they tried to pay her off to break the engagement. She saw a bigger payday down the road. Then they tried to pay him off and were shocked to find he was richer than them. They didn't come to the wedding of course.

"Well, this romantic gesture deserves a reward," she smiled. Renee slipped down the straps of her sundress and, in three smooth moves, dropped dress, panties, and slippers, and dove into the bed. She lay, nude and lewd, with a mischievous smile on her face.

Jack grinned; the cut to the chase was one thing he liked about her. Renee was not one for seductive striptease acts or foreplay; when she wanted to fuck, she fucked.

He stripped; his pants tight with his erection. He knew all the while her lewd display was an act. A part of him appreciated gaining her killer body as a marriage benefit. Too bad, I won't have access to it for long.

Jack climbed onto the bed, between her legs, leaning close, ready to perform matrimonial gymnastics when, "Brrrring!"

Renee sighed; Jack ignored it. "Brrrring!"

"Damn! Damn! Dammit!" Jack cursed. He went to the phone, "What is it Brad? I'm busy . . . what?! . . . When?! . . . And he couldn't deal with it himself? . . . He what?! . . . That greedy, fucking, cost-cutting son of a bitch! Yeah, I'm coming over, and pack your bags too. We have to get over there and contain this before it gets to the press."

Jack set the phone down with a look of disappointment. Brad's timing was unfortunate but that was how they rehearsed it. He could have waited a few more minutes.

Renee's face also sported an annoyed look. Fake, Jack knew. "That bad, huh?" she asked.

"Chuck Bosley, you met him last year, runs our subsidiary in Minneapolis? He cut some corners and now half the state is set to be contaminated with PCP. Gotta hop over to St. Paul and clean this fuck up. It's going to take a few days. Sorry Renee."

Jack was putting on his clothes as he spoke. Renee flashed annoyed and angry pouts, playing the frustrated wife. Inwardly, she jumped and cheered, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Jack gave her a peck, "Damn, I hate this. I want you like this when I get back."

"Sure, honey. How long you going to be?"

"It'll take a few days. These spills are fuck all to clean."

"Well, I have a way to speed you up. Just think of this," she ran her hands over her body, "waiting for you when you get back." She curled her lips seductively.

"Oh yeah, mama!" Jack gave them a very deep, saliva sucking kiss, "Bye sweetling."

"Bye darling," Renee whispered back.

A brief flash of uncertainty raced through Jack as he left the room. It only got as far as, "Should I be . . ." before his anger grabbed it and threw it out. He got in his car, started the engine, and drove away.

Bzzzt! "Hello?"

"Helloooo, Derek."

"Helloooo, Renee."

"Jack has a crisis in Minnesota. He's gone for a few days, and I'm naked, and wet, and just waiting for that juicy cock of yours."

"Give me ten minutes."

He was there in eight.

"Good grief, talk about ardor," Brad observed. The phones were tapped; the house and immediate area were saturated with cameras and listening devices. Every action Renee and Derek were undertaking or about to do was filmed, recorded, and streamed.

Derek, as always, made sure to take a taxi part of the way, and walk the rest. It wouldn't do for neighbors to gossip about strange cars in the driveway. Jack had to remain clueless.

He bounded up the stairs with a grin, thinking of Renee's hot body, and the fun of fucking it behind the back of, "that eggplant."

They'd sometimes chuckle about it after sex. Derek never felt a lick of remorse, not with a body like Renee's. Backstabbing was always good for advancement and helping favored

others up the ladder, like his cousin. He'd back stabbed his partner out of the yoga studio. Now he was set to franchise it across the city. Derek's former partner was just like that cuckolded black boy: nice and naive. Nice guys finish last while guys like me get the prize.

When Derek opened the door to the bedroom, "Wow!" He was impressed, "He redecorated."

"Yes he did," said the prize on the bed.

Renee lay there, toned, nude, and bronzed, with a catlike grin. Derek's erection nearly popped his jeans.

"Well?" she queried with a mischievous cock of an eyebrow. Derek was out of his clothes in fifteen seconds.

Renee admired his nude body. Derek was a kindred spirit: a selfish and narcissistic sociopath like her. They practiced similar exercise and grooming habits. Derek lasered off all his body hair, allowing a full view of his lithe, toned, dancer's body with its porn star cock, even more impressive for its lack of pubes.

His face was movie star symmetric, with a square jaw, cleft chin, narrow nose, and intense blue-gray eyes. He could have stepped out of an old fifties technicolor drama as a leading man. He kept his black hair short and his eyebrows sculpted. "Well," he grinned.

"So?" Renee smiled, legs spread with her wet pussy waiting. Derek's cock was between them a second later.

Brad looked around the room in the safe house. They'd set up shop across the street, with an observation and control room in the basement. "Enjoying the show folks?"

"Yep!" Matt Sykes, one of the staffers, quipped.

"Heh!" Brad quipped back. He let Matt and the others relax their professionalism, given the porn show unfolding in front of them. This thing would get thousands of hits on Pornhub, and the show hasn't even started.

Renee was wrapped around Derek, grunting out praises and profanities as he pounded her. His long, thick cock, slick and shiny, pistoned through her pussy like a pneumatic drill. His balls slapped against her vulva wetly, with flecks of cum and mucus spritzing outward. Renee's body bounced and quivered from boobs to ass as if filled with jelly.

"Yeah, she would make a great porn star," mused Brad. "They both would."

"You want us to start?" Matt asked.

"Wait for them to finish but lock 'em in now."

"Right," Matt tapped the execute key.

Renee and Derek didn't notice the seam on the door quietly disappear. Hidden motors in the wall moved locks and bars into the gaps. The adulterers were sealed in the room.

Brad and the staff watched the two lovers grind together. Brad admired the way Derek's ass flexed as he pumped Renee. He is a fine specimen, I got to admit. Renee has a good eye. In another universe, he might have made a play for Derek. It'd be interesting to see what his cock feels like. Brad was glad his husband had a good enough asset, and a good character.

Renee shouted, "Fuck me! Fuck my cunt with your big, juicy cock!" Interspersed with her grunts and gasps, it seemed a parody.

"A damn cliché," Brad snorted. He preferred simple, quiet sex. It's a good thing Jack's not here to see this. The scene was arousing but infuriating. Lying, cheating sociopathic bitch. I'm going to enjoy doing this.

The two bodies trembled with a jello-like orgasm and a simultaneous grunt. Derek slid his long, wet cum-shined cock from her pussy. The lovers lay side by side, bathed in sweat and gasping.

Brad turned to Matt, "Give 'em the gas."

"Wow! That was the best yet," Renee purred.

"As always, I aim to please," Derek grinned. "Want to make another run?"

"Let me rest up. Do your yoga routine. That gets me going."

"Will do," Derek got out of bed.

Renee watched Derek go through his routine. His body gleamed with sweat, making his muscles more defined. The scent of roses permeated the warm and humid room.

"Fuck, my cunt's already wet."

"Looks like I'm ready too," Derek's cock had gone back to full mast. "Sixty-nine?"

"Let's . . ." Renee licked her lips.

Seconds later, Derek's tongue, long and just as dexterous as his cock, was deep in her pussy while Renee's mouth sucked him in, balls deep. She'd long before learned to suppress her gag reflex, and they both were very good at this carnal maneuver.

Derek's tongue licked Renee's swollen clit and slithered, in and out of her spasming cave. The taste of her salty cum mingled with his own from earlier, and he swallowed, happily, with some intensity he would find unsettling, if not for his distraction.

Renee gulped, and swirled her tongue around Derek's cock, tasting her cum and his. Her lips moved across the thin skin and veins, caressing, feeling the pulse. The lovers exploded simultaneously, and swallowed each other with a fervent intensity. A moment later they were again side by side, sweaty and breathless.

"That was . . . intense," Renee marveled. "Where did that come from?"

"Hell if I know," Derek gasped. "You were pretty fierce yourself."

They lay side by side, wet in the fetid room. The scent of roses cloying in the air. Derek's cock rose back to full mast, veins throbbing, its tip already topped with a bead of pre-cum.

Renee looked at it, "Good grief, Derek."

"Good grief, yourself," Derek grinned back.

Renee was up for it again. Her body was flushed, her nipples hard, and her pussy wet.

"Fuck, Derek," Renee moved to straddle him, "today has got to be one of the special ones."

"Something in the air, I guess."

His still wet cock slid into her easily; Renee's pussy, open and dripping, sucked it in. They bounce, bumped, and ground, moaning invocations of love, lust, and odes to cocks and pussies, and the joys of fucking. The lovers climaxed, with their cum mingling in Renee's womb.

As before, after the intense fuck, their nude, glossy bodies lay, wet and panting. Derek's seed trickled from Renee's rose. They gazed at each other, stunned by the power of sexual energy.

"Damn woman! You're on fire!"

"I don't think I've ever had a fuck like this before. Are you on Viagra or something?"

"I was about to ask the same about you. You take some pill or something?"

"Only the birth control."

"Betcha hubby couldn't fuck like this," Derek smirked.

"Oh, he's okay. He could be better. I always thought blacks were supposed to be sex gods. I was shocked the first time we fucked. He wasn't . . . bad. I just expected more."

The two lovers rested, smirked, and spent the next few minutes disparaging Renee's husband. The scent of roses saturated the bedroom.

Brad watched and listened. The ice cold expression on his face masked the white hot fury within. Fucking pieces of shit; speaking of fucking. He turned to Matt, "Increase the volume."

Matt was sweating in the observation room, even though the AC blew at full blast. The others were feeling the heat as well. "Damn good show," Matt thought. He didn't know Jack Tellmon personally; he knew of him though. He seemed to be a good man so far as he knew. At least as good as an extremely wealthy man, closely associated with clandestine and military circles, could afford to be. Matt, from what he observed, didn't like Renee, so he felt little guilt pumping more gas into the room.

The scent of roses was intense, which annoyed Renee. The scent didn't overwhelm but, "I think Jack bought too many." The thought passed quickly; Renee's interest was in Derek at the moment. His cock was plumping again and Renee was already wet and ready.

"I guess it's time again," Derek smiled.

"You get on top."

Renee sagaciously licked her lips as her vulva swallowed Derek's cock. Their groins merged together. She milked him; he drilled her. He sucked her tits; she licked his nipples. They explored each other's hot, sweaty bodies. The lovers' mouths expectorated grunts, growls, and other sounds best found in the jungle. They exploded in mutual orgasm, once again mingling love juice. A second later, on the bed gasping, they took in each other's smell; the sweat and cum blended with the overwhelming scent of roses.

"God damn! That was a good fuck!" Derek gasped.

"Fuck yeah!" Renee marveled.

"I'm thirsty. I need a drink."

"There's bottled water and food in the fridge, in the closet."

"You got a fridge in the bedroom?"

"Jack doesn't like to go to the kitchen for his snacks. The place is like a hotel room."

Derek got off the bed and went to the closet, "Fuck! I'm still horny. Look at this." His cock was spear hard and throbbing.

"Wow!" Renee gasped. She noticed her arousal as well with flushed skin, cone-hard nipples, and dripping wet pussy. "Hurry up! I want that hard cock back in me in 30 secs, sport!"

"Come over here and it'll be sooner."

Renee grinned and complied.

The lovers kissed, fondled, and fucked their way to the fridge, and fucked, fondled, and kissed their way back to bed. They sixty-nined and sucked each other, and came together. Then they lay curled, one facing the other, in the brief moment's rest.

"Do you have anything else to do tonight?" asked Renee.

"Other than fucking you? Not anymore; I'm having too much fun."

Renee was about to ask something else, but the scent of roses intensified, Derek's cock hardened, and she was suddenly so horny, she forgot. It didn't matter anyway.

They fucked again, rested, and fucked. The scent of roses grew in the fetid room, until it seemed the only thing to breathe. The scent might have annoyed Renee, but she was too occupied with Derek to think. Her only thoughts were Derek's cock in her body; Derek's hands on her skin; Derek's lips on her tits; Derek's tongue in her mouth; on her clit; his cum in her belly; in her womb; Derek. Derek! DEREK!

So they fucked. They fucked in the bed. They fucked on the floor. They fucked in the closet. They fucked on the toilet. They fucked in the shower. They fucked . . . and fucked . . . and fucked . . . and fucked . . . and . . .

Jack came home two days later. He'd spent his time at the local Hyatt getting drunk, sobering up, and making final adjustments to the reordering of his life; a reordering begun after his arrangement with Double Eye. He didn't want to know what was happening. He wanted to surprise himself.

Now Jack walked into the room, sealed in his bio-hazard suit. He looked very much like an astronaut exploring a new world.

Jack stood, impassive, watching the lovers on the bed. He strode to them, calm and cold, the analytical chemist looking on his work.

Renee and Derek were nude and shiny with sweat. Their arms and legs so entangled, their bodies pressed so tight together, they almost seemed a primordial creature, crawled from the depths of a deep, hidden ocean.

Infrequently one or the other would move; a soft, mild spasm, either some faint orgasm, or mild impulse to pump cum into one, or milk it from the other. He moved around the bed, examining the shuddering bodies. Derek's back, from shoulder blades to ass writhed; his muscles alternately flexing and softening under the skin. Jack couldn't see his face but heard moans emanating from his head next to Renee's.

Jack looked at Renee. Her lips sucked softly at Derek's shoulder; her matted hair wet against her forehead. He took in her body; her breasts pressed against Derek's chest, the curve of her hip, her long arms and legs. She moaned, soft and faint.

Jack took all this in. The love of my life. His face broke for a second, just for a second. It wasn't real, Jack. The cold, analytical Jack Tellmon, of the double PhD and Nobel Prize, returned.

He waited until her eyes blinked slowly open. He watched as they saw him, uncomprehending. He watched them widen slightly in shock, then harden as understanding soaked into her lust-saturated brain. The out of control, unending, inhumanly intense sex now had a cause.

Renee's lips parted. "You . . . you . . . bas . . ." she murmured, softly.

"You slut." Jack came close and knelt down. "You know, I should thank you in some way. You may have finally cured me of this little problem that always got me in trouble. I call it my blindspot. I have trouble with women. I fall in love too easily, and ignore flaws in character too often. I think it came from being a super smart black nerd, and always wanting acceptance. I think I should hire a psychoanalyst to look at that. So anyway, when I get burned it's typically because I let in the arsonist."

"There was this bitch I knew in high school. Used me to pass a chem course, then set me up to get stripped, whipped, and tied to a goal post by the swim team. You know? Strange thing: the team all got a bout of diarrhea right at the height of their biggest competition. Shat up the whole pool in front of thousands of people, and the local news. The bitch got acne and her hair fell out."