To Love Somebody

Roy's hands were all over me, and God did I want it. That lawyer had made me feel like such a worthless whore, that in my severe emotional distress I felt like I needed to act like one, and who better than with a man I had genuine feelings for.

I wrapped my hand around Roy's cloth-covered cock, as he frantically unbuttoned my blouse, then flipped my breasts from the cups of my bra. I hissed in lust as his hand covered my naked flesh and his fingers found my swollen nipple.

I was pinned up against the brick wall by his muscular body, and I felt his left hand snake up the back of my skirt, pulling it up so he could get to my panties, which were now soaked with my lust.

I managed to get the zipper of his pants open, then I fished in there for his rock-hard cock, which pulsed with obscene power.

"Yessssssssssss!" I panted. "Fuck me, Roy! Fuck me hard! God, I need it!"

And he did. I wrapped one leg around his waist while he pulled the gusset of my panties aside, then he thrust his body forward and I felt his dick slide effortlessly into my steaming pussy.

I felt my orgasm crashing to a head the moment he got in me to the hilt and started pumping away with a demented lust, a lust I was quite ready to give back to him and then some.

His lips and tongue were working at my neck, down my front, to my breasts, and he sucked them hard, even nipping them a little with his teeth while he methodically rammed his cock back and forth in my twitching pussy.

It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before in my life. We were just two animals rutting in the first place we could find, humping away at each other for reasons neither one of us could articulate.

As I felt the white-hot sensation of my climax explode through my body, I felt Roy work harder and faster until his body went rigid and he sprayed a monster load of semen deep in my womb.

We clutched at each other as the waves of passion washed over us, until we started to come to our senses and realized what had happened.

Suddenly, I was filled with such self-loathing that I just wanted to die. I didn't blame Roy; I blamed myself. I had let myself get completely carried away, and I was almost nauseous in disgust over what I'd done.

Roy's cock slid out of me, followed by a river of his silvery cum that flowed out my dilated hole and down the inside of my thighs, and that just exacerbated my feelings.

"I sorry, Ally, I ..." Roy started to say, but I just dissolved in tears and bolted, hastily buttoning my blouse and grabbing my purse as I dashed from the scene of what I saw as my final degradation.

I had proved that lawyer's opinion of me. I was a slut and an unfit mother who had gotten what she deserved. I had just had one of the best sexual encounters of my life, and I just felt so dirty.

As I raced out of the alley, I heard Roy yelling for me to wait, but I wasn't in any mood to wait for anything. There happened to be a taxi sitting at the curb a half-block down, so I jumped in, told him where I needed to go and we took off.

"You OK, lady?" the cabbie said as I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. He was an older fellow, a black man, and his voice sounded kind.

"Y-y-y-yes. No," I stammered through my tears. "I ... Thanks for your concern, but, please, just take me home."

We rode in silence, until we got to my house. I dug in my purse to pay him, and when I did, he fixed me with a soulful pair of eyes.

"Ma'am, there ain't nothin' too big that you can't take it to God," he said softly. "Ain't no other place to go if you're hurtin'. Think about it."

I thanked him then walked into my house. The first thing I did was strip off my clothes and get into the shower. I needed desperately to wash away my sin, to cleanse myself of my perfidy, which had allowed my baby girl to be taken from me in such cruel fashion.

As the warm water cascaded over me, I wept again, but this was different. This time I prayed, prayed hard, prayed, really, for the first time. I prayed for God to give me the strength to end my life, to end my torment.

But a funny thing happened. I swear I heard Carly's voice, telling me not to die, telling me that I needed to live, and to love. Three words haunted me, and I heard them in Carly's voice, strange as that may seem.

Follow your heart, is what I heard. Follow your heart.

I would like to say that I immediately felt calmness and serenity envelop me, but the truth is I just felt drained as I turned off the shower and got out to dry off. The best that I could do at that moment was not kill myself, but I guess that was enough.

I had just put on a robe and wrapped my hair under a towel when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked out the door and it was Roy. I opened the door and just stood there watching him.

"Ally, may I come in?" he said softly. "I think we need to talk."

"Sure," I said, in a rather flat tone. "I'll make some coffee."

After I made coffee and fixed us each a cup, I sat on the recliner while Roy sat on the sofa.

"Ally, I'm sorry I acted like I did back there," he said. "I don't know what came over me. I know I've wanted you for a long time, but not like that."

"Roy, if you will recall, I attacked you," I said softly. "I ... I've never acted like that before in my life. I guess I just needed to act like the slut that lawyer made me out to be in court today."

"Ally, you know that's not true," Roy said. "You are not a slut, you've never been a slut and you never will be a slut. You don't have that in you."

"You were there; you heard it," I said bitterly. "It was all my fault. If I hadn't been so career-oriented ..."

"That's bullshit and you know it," he said forcefully. "What happened to Carly was absolutely NOT your fault. How long are you going to beat yourself up over it? It's been almost seven years, and at some point, you've got to let go."

"That's easy for you to say; she wasn't your daughter," I said.

Roy looked at me with a haunted look that puzzled me.

"I've never told you why I decided to become a cop," he said softly, almost to himself. "I was 17, a senior in high school and my oldest sister was going to graduate school at Georgetown, in D.C. One night, some guy broke into her apartment, tied her to her bed, raped her, then cut her throat. I vowed on her grave that I'd dedicate my life to catching bad guys."

I saw the pain on his face, and something broke in me. No wonder he'd empathized with me.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know," I whispered.

"Ally, I've never forgotten my sister, but I got on with my life and I used her memory as a spur to do something with it that would honor that memory," he said. "You don't honor Carly's memory by walling off your heart, by damming up your emotions. Frankly, it's a wonder to me that you've lived this long, as tightly wound as you are."

"You don't know how many times I've thought about it," I said.

"Ally, do you really think Carly would approve?" Roy said with some force. "Everything I've learned about her over the years tells me that she was a happy child, someone who enjoyed life, and who made life better for everyone around her."

"She was that," I said, and I had to smile at the memory.

"More to the point," Roy continued. "How do you think it makes Marzetti feel to know he's made your life a living hell? The longer you keep this up, the longer you deprive yourself of love, of life, the happier it makes him. He wins when you do this to yourself. That bastard doesn't deserve that kind of happiness. The only thing he deserves in a quick ride on the gurney and a date with the needle. Why do you think we wanted first crack at him?"

"I ... I don't know," I said. "I thought you just had the best case against him."

"Well, there is that," he said. "But the main reason is we have the death penalty in Virginia, and we're not afraid to use it. We may not be quite like Texas, but when you run out of appeals in this state, we roll you in, shove the needle in and send you off to be with Jesus -- or Satan. The point is, as long as you wallow in loveless misery, he derives a certain satisfaction out of it that he doesn't deserve."

"But, who? How?" I said hesitantly.

"Ally, I love you, and I have for a long time," Roy said after a pregnant pause. "I want to love you, but you have to be ready to love me, or if not me, then whoever else your heart fancies. But first, you have to love yourself, and you can't love yourself until you forgive yourself. Can you let me help?"

"Oh God, Roy," I cried and I went over to him then. I sat on the sofa next to him and let him take me in his arms and hold me. I knew then that it was time. I had fought my heart long enough, and now it was time to surrender. Roy was offering me a lifeline of love, and all I had to do was grab hold and hang on.

I knew what I had to do.

I stood up so that I was standing right in front of Roy. I pulled the towel off my head and shook my still-damp locks free, then untied the sash on my robe and let it fall to the floor.

"Roy?" I said, almost timidly. "Will you take me to bed and love me? Please? I need you and I want you. I ... I can't go on any longer by myself. Please?"

"Ally..." he said as he stood up and we embraced "All I've ever wanted was to love you."

He walked with me back to my bedroom, then I lay back on the bed and watched him leisurely strip for me. Naked, he was everything I could have dreamed he would be. He was lean and handsome, with a cock that was just right, not too big and not too small.

I shivered as he caressed my skin, slowly sliding his hands over my soft flesh. It was almost like a dream as his lips found mine and we kissed, languidly, with an easy pace that told us we had all the time in the world, the rest of our lives, to love each other.

I lost myself in his kiss, his lips tantalizing mine, his tongue testing me. I gasped then, when his fingers found my sex. He opened me up gently, a far cry from the frantic lust of earlier. His thumb worked softly around my clit as he slipped two fingers in my burning hole.

My hands were busy, as well. I slid my hands over Roy's taut back, to his delicious buttocks and around to his burgeoning manhood. He was already bursting hard and leaking from the tip of his dick.

I half expected Roy to simply roll me over onto my back and take me, and I was more than willing for him to do just that. But he had other plans.

His lips and tongue worked their way down my neck, to my breasts, with the pink nipples hard as little pencil erasers. He brushed his finger over one nipple and an electric sizzle of lust raced through my body, followed quickly by another one as he lips suckled me.

It was like I was floating on a cloud as the feelings began to swell in me, but before I reached a peak, Roy pulled his lips off my nipple, then pursued the other, building me up then pulling away.

I could feel his mouth leaving little wet trails down my stomach and I knew what was coming. Sure enough, I felt Roy's hands on my butt as he picked me up off the bed. I spread my legs wantonly, opening myself to his gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "You have the most beautiful pussy I think I've ever seen."

Each word seemed to be directed right at my bubbling core, raising my arousal to a fever pitch. But that was nothing compared to what it felt like when he slashed his tongue up my gash and around my throbbing clit.

I cried out in passion and I arched my back from the explosion of sensations that rocked my body with each lick, each kiss, each suck. Every time he touched me with his mouth it seemed to spark an orgiastic response from my sweat-covered body.

His mouth was all over me, boring into me with his tongue, sucking my clit like a small cock, vacuuming my whole pussy into his mouth, occasionally thrusting his fingers into me.

I was thrashing on the bed as my climax built into an unstoppable force, and when Roy got his whole mouth on me and ravished me with his tongue, I was a goner.

I felt a white-hot feeling almost like a volcano erupt through my body. I shook and shimmied on the bed, and cried and squealed as I wallowed joyfully in the throes of my orgasm. I was 42 years old at that moment, and I'd never had anything remotely like it happen to me before.

I pulled Roy's face out of my crotch by his close-cropped hair, and he got the message loud and clear. He hovered over me, offering me his mouth, and I leaned up and took it, tasting my essence on his lips and tongue.

We just sort of flowed together, and I gave a satisfied groan as his cock filled me right to the brim. He was immediately working in an easy rhythm as we wrapped our arms around each other and made love.

This was so unlike our earlier coupling. We had fucked that time, and perhaps that's what I needed to help tear down the wall around my heart, something so drastic and out of character that it finally forced me to bare my soul to this man who had long been there for me.

But now we were sharing love, working together to love somebody else in a way neither of us had experienced before.

I wrapped my legs around Roy's waist and worked my hips in tandem with his, meeting his incoming thrusts with equal ardor. We truly were working as one, our love flowing together like a meandering river, in and out, up and down, around and around.

It seemed like every nerve in my body was standing at attention, as if they knew what was coming. And Roy made sure most of those nerve endings got some kind of stimulus.

I would have been content to let Roy fuck me like that forever. Hell, I didn't even need to climax; it didn't matter. I was giving my man -- my man -- all the pleasure he could stand, and if I came, fine. If not, that was fine, too.

But Roy was feeling the tension, and I could tell he was getting close to the moment of truth. His thrusts began to get harder and his pace began to quicken. And I was right there with him, urging him on, willing him to come with me and fill me up, to fuck me good, to love me right.

And, what do you know? I felt a sizzle of passion explode through my body just about the time I felt Roy's cock swell inside of me, seconds before he spewed a hot, hard series of cumshots deep in my pussy.

I used every muscle I had to milk Roy's cock of every drop of his precious cum. Even after the initial outburst, I felt him shooting small spurts to baste my cunt in his creamy cum.

Finally, I felt him relax, and we held each other in a tender embrace.

I cannot possibly describe how good it felt to have a strong man in my bed again, holding me in the wonderful afterglow of love. I had thought I'd never have that again -- never thought I'd want it again.

But Roy showed me that my capacity to love, my need to love, was like a life-sustaining force for me, and without it I was withering away in lonely bitterness.

I understood then that by depriving myself of love, I was slowly dying. I think I was hoping that if I sacrificed enough that God would give Carly back to me.

But there was nothing I could do that would bring my little girl back, and it was doing me no good to sacrifice my life, my happiness in a futile pursuit of something I could never have.

I looked over then at the man who had saved me from myself, and he gazed back at me with those bluer-than-blue eyes.

"Roy?" I whispered. "Please, don't ever leave me."

"Allison," he said softly. "I've always been right here, all along. All you had to do was call on me, and I was there. I'll do anything for you, and, no, I'll never leave you."

"Good," I said sleepily. "Because I'm not about to let you go."

Ralph Marzetti's trial lasted a few more days, then it didn't take the jury very long to convict him, and it didn't take long at all for them to agree on the death penalty.

During the penalty phase, I was called to the stand again, this time to tell exactly why I thought he should be executed. I was a very different person from the emotional wreck that had been on the stand just a few days before.

I spoke quietly, but confidently, talking about Carly in public for the first time. I told Marzetti what kind of person she was, and what he had taken -- not just from me -- but from the world as a whole. I have no doubt that Carly would have made a difference in this world, and society is poorer because she never got that chance.

After it was all over, after the interviews with the media, and I was walking toward the exit of the courthouse, I heard my name being called. I turned and it was Marzetti's lawyer. I was just about to give her a piece of my mind when something in her eyes made me pause.

"Mrs. Mitchell, I'm sorry about the way I treated you on the stand," she said. "I need to explain some things to you, so you'll understand why I had to do what I did."

"OK, I'm listening," I said, a little uncertainly.

"I took this case pro bono for several reasons," she said. "One reason was that as a lawyer, I wanted the challenge. Could I possibly take a lost cause like Ralph Marzetti and somehow gain an acquittal, or at the very least avoid the death penalty? Another reason was that I needed my ego cut down a couple of notches, and nothing deflates a lawyer's ego like losing a case. But the main reason I took this case, and the reason I gave it my best shot was this. I believe in evil, and I believe that some people are naturally evil, with no hope of redemption. Ralph Marzetti is about as evil as they come, and I wanted to make damn sure that when his conviction comes up for appeal that he'll have no grounds to claim he didn't get the best possible legal representation. I did my best; he was convicted anyway, as he should have been, and now I don't think his conviction will be overturned on my account. In that regard, my conscience is clear. Again, I apologize, and you have my prayers. Please, go with God."

I stared at her retreating figure in some astonishment, then I started to chuckle. It made sense, in a perverse way, and I silently forgave her. Just then, Roy came over and looked at me funny.

"Come on, big boy," I said then, taking my lover's arm. "I feel like a steak, medium rare, then I feel like taking you to bed and wearing your ass out."

All of that was some 3½ years ago. Roy moved in with me after the first of the year, and we were married exactly eight years to the day after Carly disappeared. I wanted it that way, so I could remember that date for something other than tragedy, and for the symbolism. Love couldn't bring my baby back, but love could triumph over evil, and love could make me live again, restore my heart and repair my soul.

In the years since our marriage, Roy has left the police force and gone to work as a private consultant specializing in missing-persons cases. We've also become active with regional victim's rights groups, and I've told my story at dozens of meetings and other forums.

Brad, too, found some closure. He finally hit his bottom and went into a substance abuse center in California. He is now sober and working for a homeless shelter in San Francisco.

He came to see me and we had a long talk not long before Roy and I married. I think now we're at peace with each other, and, too, we still have the tie that binds us, our shared grief.

I would be lying if I said I was completely over Carly's murder. You never quite get over something like that, and, as I said, I still occasionally have nightmares.

But with the help of the man I love -- and who loves me -- I can cope with it in ways I never could before. I laugh again, I can love again and I can be happy again without feeling guilty.

And, somewhere, I think Carly is looking down on me and smiling.

You see, love will always win -- if you let it.