Page 44 of Blazing Embers

I follow the sound and find it in a toiletry bag placed neatly on the dresser.

“Huh, I have a toiletry bag.” I shake my head and quickly unzip it. My heart is pounding. Tucked between a bottle of rosewater and a toothbrush is a sleek, matte-black burner phone. A message blinks across the screen:

You’ve got mail

What the fuck? I don’t even have my phone to get my email. It bings again with the message:You’ve got mail.

A dull dread claws at my stomach. I know better than to click on random shit. But my thumb moves anyway, and I tap the message.

The screen loads.

And then it starts.

A video. As clear as day and timestamped from fourteen years ago.

The scene looks real, although I don’t recognize the surroundings. It’s a lavish bedroom, and a woman’s face I’ve never seen before pops onto the screen reflected in a mirror on a dresser. She is young and beautiful. I’m guessing she’s about my age. Maybe a few years older, brushing her hair and putting some gloss on her lips. I’m guessing this video is being recorded from somewhere on her. A secret camera, maybe?

Then I hear a male voice in the background, and I go cold. I know that voice!

“There you are my little fuck bunny,” the man, who pops up behind her in the mirror says, and I shudder.

I was right, it is who I thought it was. I could never forget that monster's voice. He is much, much older than the young woman and kisses her on the neck. His hands slide over her breasts. She leans back into him and moans, sending ice through my veins, and then I nearly gag when she turns and they kiss.

“Jesus Christ you fucking pervert! She’s about the same age as your grandson.”

I watch in morbid fascination as his one hand fondles her breast and the other slides down her body. Pulls up her skirt and slips beneath her panties.

“Oh, fuck your pussy is sopping wet, you little greedy slut,” the old pervert grunts and I can see him rubbing his cock against her ass. “Do you want your pappy’s dick inside that greedy little hole of yours?”

“Oh, God, you know I do, my love,” the young woman groans.

“Oh, hell no.” Now I do want to gag. “What is this? Crime Lord porn?”

I fast forward it, and watching the old bastard lift the woman's skirt and slam her against the dresser is even worse in double speed.

When they’re done, she straightens up. The randy old bastard is still fondling her breasts as they start to speak.

“Are you ready to finally put this plan into action so you and my baby girl can come home where you belong?” the old pervert asks. “I want my wife by my side, not pretending to be another man’s wife and fucking the young buck every night.”

“You’re fucking the maids and whichever other available female flesh catches your eyes while I’m gone,” she hisses and jealousy flashes in her eyes.

“Oh my God, she’s in love with the old fart,” I gag again. “Jesus, woman.”

“Well, my dear, I have to ensure I’m sexually fit to keep up with you when you eventually come home,” the old perv tells her, bending down to suck her nipples through her blouse. “God, I love these perky titties of yours.”

“Stop, now I’ll have to change my blouse as you’ve made wet spots around my nipple area.” She giggles.

“I would love to stay and watch you strip but you just know my cock will go getting all hard and want to ram into that hot little pussy of yours again.” The old perv leers.

“Then it’s just as well that I’ll confess who I am to him tomorrow night,” the woman says, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t worry, he suspects nothing. Thinks I'm madly in love with him and our daughter.”

He pulls her to him for a passionate kiss and to feel her up again.

“Oh… God. I’m going to need therapy now.” I shake my head to try to dispel the images.

Soon all the images of their huge age-gap sexcapade fades and my mouth drops as I hear their plans.

“Run the plan by me one more time,” the old man tells the young woman.

---