Sherry's Story

Discussion

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise, etc, etc.


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When I woke up, Ben was gone. I decided to take a shower and finally drive the shock and half-drunk feeling from my body. The flannel shirt, though warm, was itchy and I yearned not to have the constant desire to scratch myself every five minutes.

I threw the shirt on the floor and stepped beneath the shower spray. Because of the hard scrubbing from the night before, the hot water burned my tender skin like a thousand fiery needles. Although my body was relaxed, my mind certainly was not. A thousand thoughts raced through it and my head began to throb with a headache.

With my strict Catholic upbringing, killing a man under any circumstance, even self-defense, was no excuse. When it came right down to it, I had taken a life that was not mine to take. Only God had that right. However, as penance for my crime, I would always be haunted by the memory of that awful look on Richard’s face as he lay dying.

I turned off the water and reached around the shower enclosure to grab the towel. Instead of its fluffy softness, my hands brushed against rough warm flesh. I shrieked and drew back, although there was nowhere to go.

“Sorry, babe,” Ben’s hearty voice said. My fears were dissolved in an instant but I had been so frightened that I was now angry and feeling more than a little stupid.

“Who’d ya think it was?” he drawled, his eyes lazily surveying my dripping body. I yanked the towel from his hands and primly covered myself, tucking the end between my breasts.

“Aw, don’t do that, I was just admiring the view,” he said.

I stood in front of him and pushed at his chest. “You scared me half to death, you big schmuck! I thought you were the police!” I pursed my lips and put my hands on my hips in righteous indignation as he laughed at me.

“You won’t be mad when I tell you where I’ve been.” He waited for me to respond but I didn’t. “I went to the Pits and threw your dress, the flashlight and letter opener in there. No one will ever find them. We’re home free, Sherry.”

I sighed deeply and some of the tension in my body evaporated. I was so relieved that they were finally gone, that I hugged my husband.

“Am I forgiven for scaring you?” he asked, his chin resting on the top of my head. I nodded as I listened to the strong, steady beat of his big heart. This man had done so much for me in the short time we’d known each other--tenderly caring for me after my gang rape at the Roarke estate; Never giving up hope while I lay in my coma; Buying out my contract and setting me free; Killing Tom so that I would never be bothered by him again and finally, getting rid of all the evidence that could have put me in the electric chair. While it was true he had violated me on our wedding night, his good deeds far outweighed the bad.

His hand went under my chin and he raised my face so he could look at me. “Sherry, I promise you by all that is good in this world, that I will never hit or hurt you in any way again.”

I smiled. “Even though if it’s for the best?” I couldn’t forget that only a few short hours ago, Ben soundly knocked my lights out--but it had been for my own good.

“Well…what I mean is that I won’t smack you unless your life depends on it. Neither will I put my hands—or any other part of my body—on you in anger again.”

“How about in me?” I said huskily, my fingers reaching down to stroke my husband’s hardening groin.

Ben shook his head vehemently from side to side. “Nope, I will never force myself on you again, I promise. And I mean that.”

“But what if I said ‘no’ right now?”

“I’d grumble but I’d accept it and I’d wait until you’re asleep before I jerked off. If I don’t, I won’t be getting any sleep. When guys get hard, and I mean really hard, it takes hours for us to calm down. It’s a hell of a lot easier if we self-serve and blow our load than wait for the hard-on to go away on its own.”

“Have you ever done that because of me?”

“Sure. Lotsa times.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Remember after our first date, when I didn’t come over to see you? God knows I wanted you every day but I thought I’d get over you and I thought staying away would make it easier. I jerked off a lot during that month. Recently when you were healin’, I heard you cry out in your sleep and I’d lay beside you and hold you until you dozed off again. But I couldn’t be near you for long, because I’d want to…you know, fuck you.” He glanced at me. “Aside from that one time you touched yourself while I was watchin’, have you ever…”

I nodded my head and decided to be as honest as he had been. “Played with myself? Yes, I have. When I was recuperating, there were times when I felt the need…”

“But why didn’t you come to me? You know I woulda been glad to help you come in any way I could.”

“I was afraid to be near you, let alone touching me.”

Ben bowed his head and sighed. “Yeah, I remember. But those days are over now, so if ever you want—need—to be satisfied, you know I’ll gladly do it.” I opened my mouth to say something but Ben put his finger on my lips, silencing me. “And if you don’t want to do the same to me, that’s okay. I love you. I want to make you as happy as I can for as long as I can.”

His words had a premonitory note in them and I shivered. Ben saw it but he didn’t guess the real reason. “Christ, here I’ve been babblin’ on and on while you’re freezing! But first, I gotta say something, Sherry.” He got to his knees in front of me. He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “I love you, kid. I have from the first moment I saw you lyin’ there on the bathroom floor and I will until the day that I die.”

My eyes filled with tears. I knelt down and held my husband’s face between my palms. “Your place is at my side, not at my feet. But right now, your place is between my legs.” I giggled at my nerve and Ben raised his eyebrow in a teasing manner.

“Your wish is my command, milady,” he said. He stood up, towering over me, and hoisted me easily over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He carried me to the bed and laid me down. Leaning over me, his lips blazed a trail of hot wetness from my ear to my shoulder. I gasped when Ben nipped at my skin with his teeth, and it sent a current of lust straight to my clit.

“How do you want me?” Ben asked, his hot breath against my ear.

I couldn’t see his face in the darkness of the room and I brushed my fingers across his stubbly chin. “Richard…” I paused, silently vowing never to speak his name in our bed again. “…He took me and used me for his own pleasure. You know I love it when you fuck me hard but not now. More than ever, I need to be loved tonight. Tenderly. Gently.”

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I nodded. “He made me feel like a whore. I guess you could say I was, but unlike most whores who get money for their services, he was going to pay me with his silence about Uncle Tom.”

“Babe, I am so sorry,” Ben said. “Please remember that I am here for you anytime you need me. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand.”

“No! I want you, Ben. I need you. But what I need most of all is to be treated like a woman, not a cunt.”

Ben’s lips caressed mine for a long, lovely moment. I was reminded of the first time I had kissed him in my brothel room a lifetime ago. Fire raced down my spine and pooled in my cunt. My hands made quick work of removing my towel and I began to unbutton his shirt. I was desperate to have him inside of me, but when I reached down to his belt, Ben’s hands stopped me. He brought my palm up to his mouth and he kissed it.

“Easy, easy,” Ben gently chided me. “There’s no need to rush. I’m gonna make this night special for you. Now lie on your stomach.”

With a firm but gentle touch, Ben massaged my back and neck and I found myself relaxing under his hands. I groaned deeply as I felt stress melt away, leaving a pleasant numbness behind. As he worked his way down my body, my limbs felt heavier and I wanted nothing more but to lie there and succumb to the lassitude that was spreading through my body.

When he was finished with my feet, I gasped when he suckled my toes. Normally, I was very ticklish but that certainly was not the case now. Feeling his hot, wet mouth on my feet was arousing and I moaned. He trailed his tongue up to my calves and the back of my legs and I didn’t need to be told twice to roll over onto my back.

Of their own accord, my legs parted and Ben settled himself between them. My toes curled in pleasure when his large fingers skimmed over my slit until I was sure I was soaking the mattress with my juices.

When I became too excited, Ben stopped what he was doing and kissed me until I was calm again. For what seemed like hours, I alternated between states of tranquility and insanity and I loved every second of it.

I learned a great deal about physical intimacy that night—lovemaking wasn’t entirely based on the act of intercourse itself, there were many levels of arousal and satisfaction of which I knew nothing.

Under his patient guidance, I learned what Ben liked. Besides touching and suckling his penis and balls, I learned that other parts of his body were just as sensitive and responsive to my tongue, lips, and fingers. I felt his body twitch when I lightly nipped at his neck and shoulders. Ben groaned long and loud when I swirled my tongue around the curves and convolutions of his ear.

“Damn it, girl,” he growled, “that’s what I get for teaching you what to do—you’re too fucking good at it.”

“I’m a quick learner. You want me to stop?” I said mischievously.

“Hell, no! But I don’t think that either of us can wait any more.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I said, deliberately quoting him.

I felt the bed shift when he moved. I spread my legs eagerly and he settled himself between them. Both of us emitted a simultaneous deep groan of pleasure when he buried his cock inside me. Because of the very extended foreplay, both of us were aroused to the point of madness. When he began thrusting, I could tell that he was holding himself back. I had fucked him enough times to know that he wanted nothing better than to fuck me hard and fast.

However, this is what I wanted, what I needed right now and he respected that.

Ben’s lips and mouth were scorching my flesh as he kissed me. I mewled in anticipation as I felt an orgasm building inside of me.

“Babe, I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Ben whispered and I heard his breath hitch inside of his throat. But he needn’t have worried—I was so close to coming, that when he began thrusting faster inside of me, it took me over the edge as well.

We cuddled in the afterglow; both of us were so exhausted, we fell asleep almost immediately. I don’t know how long I was in the dreamlike state between sleeping and wakefulness, but I awoke immediately when I felt Ben fingers caressing my breast and teasing my nipple, coaxing it to full hardness.

I felt his cock twitch against my buttocks and I purposefully wriggled my butt against him. He chuckled softly and held my body against him in an iron embrace.

“Now, what should a good husband like me do to a naughty wife who teases him when he’s tryin’ to sleep? He murmured. “Should I…?”

I didn’t give him time to finish. “Fuck me, Ben. I need to be fucked into the mattress. Please?”

“Why?”

I touched his face in the darkness. “I need to experience the other side of the coin now. You were gentle with me when I needed it, but I need you to be rough. I can’t explain it…” I said with a helpless shrug. I whimpered when he swiped his hand across my dripping pussy. Gently, he put a finger inside of me.

“Tell me what you want,” Ben whispered. His voice was deep and hoarse and I knew he was aroused.

“Fuck me, Ben. Hard and fast. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Despite my urgings to take me hard and fast, Ben was gentle when he penetrated me with his fingers. He slid into me slow and gentle and my toes tensed when he curled his fingers so that he was caressing my g-spot. I was getting hotter and hornier by the second.

What we had done earlier was primarily a desire on my part to experience emotional satisfaction. Now, however, we were obeying the oldest law of Nature—male with female. National Geographic would call it mating to procreate; we called it fucking to recreate.

And that’s exactly what I told Ben to do. My mouth opened eagerly when his lips met mine. This was no gentle and timid kiss—this was a blistering promise of what lay in store for me. I shivered in delicious anticipation when he moved his body over mine.

Or, was it fear?

“Anxious?” Ben’s deep voice whispered in the darkness. “Or afraid?”

“Yes,” I answered. “To both.”

He entered me. Even though he assured me that he wouldn’t hurt me, I was nervous. I felt the muscles of his body under my hand as I touched him. I knew that Ben would never hurt me again, but I’d fucked enough men to know that sometimes even the gentlest man can inadvertently hurt a woman when the desire to climax overrides everything else, even promises.

Against my will, my body tensed up. I didn’t know why—I trusted him to do the right thing. My thoughts were interrupted when Ben’s fingers touched my face. “I’m sorry, Ben. I thought I was ready but….”

“That’s all right, Sherry. We’ll just ease into it slowly, that’s all. We’ll go at your speed.”

I could only shake my head in wonderment. Were all marriages like mine? Did all husbands care so much about their wives? “I love you, Ben. So much…”

“Aw, babe, please don’t cry. It hurts me to see you upset.” He wiped my tears away and nestled his broad forehead against mine. “But don’t you worry, whenever you’re ready to do the ‘fuck me now, right goddamn now,’ thing, all you have to do is ask.”

Ben started moving inside of me again, sliding into me like a warm knife into butter. God, I loved this! I moaned and raked my nails over his shoulders.

He pounded his rigid cock inside me with steady powerful strokes. For my part, the desire to match his every movement with my own was overwhelming and I eagerly bucked my hips against him. I clutched him closer to me with my legs, hooking my feet together and held on for the ride. This was a new type of lovemaking than what I was used to—it wasn’t rough but he wasn’t fucking me as if I would break either. It was the perfect combination of both. It was new and different and I loved it.

I buried my face in my husband’s chest and gave a throaty cry. I heaved my straining, sweating body against his until I stopping cumming. I could hear his breathing become faster as he came closer to his release. He clutched my buttocks in his hands and groaned deeply as he shot his white-hot seed deep into me. We rested against one another until we could breathe again.

I lay in my husband’s arms, listening to the pounding of my husband’s heart against my ear. I was half-asleep and so tired but something was off. I lifted my head and listened. It wasn’t a heartbeat that I heard, there was someone at the front door! The knocking stopped and I heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock.

Ben heard it too and bounded out of bed. In the darkness, I heard the sharp zing of his zipper as he hastily fastened his pants. A shiver slid down my spine when I heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Stay here,” he commanded in a low tone. Quietly he left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He had told me to stay, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t--obey. He was my husband and I had the right to be at his side in every situation, good or bad. I scuttled around in the bedroom trying to find my clothes but the only thing I could find was one of Ben’s shirts.

As quietly as I could, I opened the bedroom door and was surprised to hear laughter coming from the living room. I peeped around the corner and my worries evaporated. It was Gert. She looked at me with a smile and a raised eyebrow, taking in my appearance in one sweeping glance. I glanced down at myself and blushed. I hadn’t realized that all of the buttons on the shirt were unfastened and I was standing there, bare for everyone to see.

“I only let myself in when you didn’t answer the door,” Gertrude explained. “You received quite a bump on the head and I was worried about you. You don’t have to be embarrassed—I was a newlywed myself once. There’s never a bad time to have a quickie and some people just seem to come by at the wrong moment.”

Ben guffawed and slapped his friend on the back. “No offence, Gert, but its true!”

“Besides, if you two don’t do it, how else am I going to become an aunt?” Gert quipped.

While Ben entertained Gert in the living room, I went to put some clothes on before padding off to the kitchen to make supper. It wasn’t anything fancy—lamb chops and vegetables. We talked her into staying for supper and I was glad she did. Like any new bride, I was anxious to show off my cooking abilities and I was proud that she was our first dinner guest.

After the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean again, Gert examined my chin. “You’ll live,” she said with a slight smile. “You still have a scar and I’m sorry for that.”

We had just finished supper and talking over a few glasses of wine when we heard someone knocking. Since I was the closest to the door, I answered it. My heart was pounding and my throat closed in terror when I saw John Hardigan standing on our threshold. Was he coming to arrest me? Had he found evidence that showed I was Richard’s murderer? It was only after he spoke that I breathed again.

“I would have been here hours ago but two things happened today that kept the entire police department hopping.”

“What?” Ben said after his friend was seated at our dinner table and a plate of warm leftovers was put in front of him.

“Thanks,” John said gratefully between mouthfuls, “I haven’t had a bite since breakfast. We found Richard’s wife. Dead.”

I gasped. “Dead? Are you sure?” My mind whirled. Richard had told me that he had given her a check before she left him. Now she was dead. What else had he lied to me about?

“As sure as a bullet from a Walther P38 between the eyes can make someone. Her body was found in the trunk of his car… wrapped in a garbage bag. My guess is that he was going to dispose of her after the party when everyone had gone. The gun was beside the body and it was registered to Kershaw. Got his fingerprints all over it.”

“Christ!” Ben whistled. “I knew he was a bastard, but to shoot your wife while she’s looking at you and then dump her in the trunk? In a garbage bag…? That’s cold, man. Real cold.” He shook his head.

“What was the other thing you mentioned?” I asked.

“There was a serious breach in security around Senator Roarke last night. A big one. Some nutcase with a knife got close enough to stab him in the arm. Roarke’s going to be okay, though. He only needed a few stitches. The would-be assassin is in lockup.” John looked at me. “I still have to question you, Sherry, but not tonight. I interrogated the Roarke suspect for hours today and that was enough for one night. I know you’re not going to run, but I still have to warn you not to leave town.”

Ben scoffed. “Don’t worry, John, we’re not going anywhere.” He changed the subject. “Someone would never gotten that close to Roarke on my watch. No fucking way. Who was in charge of the Senator’s security detail?”

“Alex,” John said.

“That idiot? Roarke must be desperate if he put that moron in charge…”

I wasn’t listening to their conversation; I had other things to think about. What kind of monster would murder his wife of thirty years in cold blood? Was murdering his wife Richard’s idea of love? What had happened to the good man I almost fell in love with? What had turned him into this beast? I shook my head, unable to make sense of it.

“Sounds like you’ve had a hard day,” Ben said, “and you could use a drink or two. How about a good belt of bourbon? That’ll take the edge off. Calm you right down.”

John yawned and blinked his eyes owlishly. “I’d better not. I’m not going to stay much longer anyway, I only wanted to come over and tell you all what’s what. Damn, I’m tired. Do you know how many calls I have received from the mayor, city councilmen and state officials I’ve received today? Somehow, word got out that Kershaw’s safe was rifled and everyone wants to know if any information on them were in that safe. Speaking of which, not everything was burned. There was a lot of stuff that the killer didn’t get to.”

“This makes your list of suspects a lot bigger, doesn’t it?” I asked. All the adults at the table looked at me. “Who is to say that Richard was going to blackmail the killer for whatever reason and instead of giving in, the murderer killed him instead?”

“I dunno, John,” Ben said, thoughtfully rubbing his jaw. “Seems to me that Sherry’s got a point.”

“Yes, she does,” seconded Gert. “Everyone who was being blackmailed had a reason to want him dead and now they are all suspects.”

“Someone had a lot of anger against Richard. One stab would’ve done the trick, but he got four.”

“How did you know how many times he was stabbed, Ben?” John said sharply. “That wasn’t released to the media.”

“I was the one who found him, remember? I saw the holes in his body. I can count,” Ben snapped. “And if it was me, I would have stabbed him a lot more than four times. Someone wanted to make sure Rich was dead.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” John Hardigan said. “Someone wanted to get up close and personal with the deceased and see the lights in his eyes die before he left. Kind of like what the bastard did to his wife. Whoever it was could’ve just shot him and been done with it. But with a house full of people, that would’ve been too risky.”

“That’s true. With the party going on in full swing, it’s not likely anyone would have heard the shot except Jones and Brown who were outside the door. I mean, sure, the music was loud, but could it have been enough to hide the sound of a gunshot? Too much of a risk. A knife is quieter.”

“What about him crying out? Wouldn’t anyone have heard it?” Gert asked.

Ben shook his head with the air of professional hitman. “Not necessarily. If you can stab someone in the chest, they won’t be able to make a sound. Right?”

Gertrude nodded. “Yes. A stab in the lung means that someone could not breathe or cry out, no matter how much they tried.”

Ben continued. “I think the killer came there to talk. Things got heated, one thing led to another and he stabbed him. He may have even brought the knife with him because it’s easy to hide. Just slip it in your pocket and no one would know. Hell, even I carry a blade.”

John’s eyes were twinkling. “Careful, Ben, I’m here on official police business. I may have to arrest you for carrying a concealed weapon. You worked with Richard Kershaw and knew him personally. Who’d want him dead?”

“Aside from half the law enforcement in this city? Are you fucking kidding me? But to answer your question, the Mob has a lot of enemies. A rival crew, maybe?” Ben speculatively looked at John. “I don’t wanna tell you how to do your job, pal, but you know as well as I do that with Richard gone, anyone from the Mob who goes to trial for anything, is gonna end up in jail. I’ll say this for the bastard: he was a damn good lawyer.”

John scowled. “I can’t tell you how many rock solid cases I’ve had go down in flames because of him. From the moment he walked into a courtroom, he owned it. It didn’t matter what charge it was—cop killing, robbery, extortion, he got them all off.”

“Hell, the murderer could even be a cop. Maybe someone who got pissed because, as you said, Rich got a lot of cop killers off.” Ben stated.

“He sure did,” John grumbled.

Gert spoke and I could see how angry she was. “I’m sure I speak for a lot of cops’ wives in this town when I say I’m glad he’s dead. Do you know how many friends of mine are now widows and their children have no fathers? Too many. Every time the phone rings and my husband has to go out, my heart stops beating. I don’t know that is the last time I’ll see him. I worry that he might end up lying in a ditch somewhere, killed by some Mob goon. No offense, Ben,” she added quickly.

“None taken, Gert. But I’ve been having some thoughts about quitting the Mob.” Ben leaned closer to his old friend. “Face it, Hardigan--the killer did you a favour. Now you’ll have the highest conviction rate of Mob guys than anyone in the state. That’ll be quite the feather in your cap with the Mayor. Maybe that’ll put your name on the list for police commissioner? Whoever offed Rich, wanted to make damn sure those papers were destroyed. Who knows? Maybe the name of the guy was on one of ‘em?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Now we’ll never know but I have a feeling that a helluva lot of people are going to sleep easier in this town from now on.”

”And I’ll bet that he’ll be toasted from one end of Sin City to the other. Whoever killed Rich did this town a great service.”

Gertrude raised her glass and we followed suit. “To the killer of that rat-fuck lawyer. Thank you, Merci, and Danke!”

"Amen," we intoned.

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Author’s note: Merci and Danke mean 'thank you' in French and German.