***All characters depicted herein are of age, 18 years old at least, and all sexual activities portrayed are consensual. Some of what you read may cause distress.***
Igniting a gas lighter, Claire Bright, 39, holds the flame to burn the tip of a spliff containing some drugs she just got from a local dealer with assurances of it's potency. She inhales deep, and again, and again, ensuring a good burning, and taking in the smoke from the burning of the weed and crystals contained within the rolling papers. Content with the rush of endorphins from her breathing deep of the drugs, she exhales, shooting a steady stream of light grey smoke in a thin funnel, wisping up and away at the extent of it's reach, and she passes the spliff to her husband.
Sitting comfortably in their living room, almost lying down on a broken settee, Joven Bright, 41, takes the offering from his wife, and he partakes in the smoking of the spliff, inhaling deep, and gently breathing out puffs of smoke spilling up from his upper lip. He passes the spliff back to his wife, and he settles down onto the old, worn, fabric seat cushions with his bum resting on the floor just off the cushion, and his legs trailing across the floor.
Music blasts from the speakers of an old hi-fi system and 5.1 surround sound set-up; rock from their teens, with deep lyrics and driving guitar riffs underpinned by thumping bass lines and crashing drums, with the vocals a calling from deep within the souls of the artists, yearning for some understanding, asking questions of the madness of existence.
Claire sinks down next to her husband, sucking in a couple of takes of the spliff, feeling the smoke churning in her throat and her lungs before breathing it out of her mouth and nostrils. She snuggles up beside Joven, and places the spliff at his lips, allowing him to inhale more of the smoke. She lifts the spliff away, and Joven lays his head back with his mouth open, allowing the smoke to softly billow up as if from a chimney.
One song soon fades to the next, and the next, and the next, and the spliff is passed back and forth between Joven and Claire. Eventually, the hi-fi falls silent, then clicks and whirs as CD's in the disk trays of the multi-changer are rotated into position so the next one programmed can be played, and play resumes from a new beginning.
Claire takes the final drag from the spliff, dubbing out the stub in the ash tray beside her on the floor, and she exhales the last smoke from the spliff, watching as it rises to the swirling cloud hanging below the ceiling above her and husband's heads. Thick ribbons, almost silky and glittering in the warm glow of the overhead light, swim around in the air, churning and settling, and rising again.
Joven peels down Claire's low-cut top, and he nurses on her boobs, lapping away feverishly with his tongue, much to his wife's delight as she leans over him more to make it easier for him to reach. He settles back to relax as he sucks on his wife's nipples as they delicately dangle above his mouth.
Claire yanks down on Joven's tracksuit bottoms, unveiling his limp dick flopping around as it settles after being agitated by the sliding of the bottoms over it. She slips off her own tracksuit bottoms, and straddles her husband, gently squeezing his dick in her hand between her legs as she sits on him.
Joven feels a strange mix of coldness and tinges of heat as his wife pulsates her hand to promote blood flow to his dick, and it gradually stiffens and grows within Claire's grasp. He settles down with his shoulders and upper back onto the seat cushion and the carpet under him, and he allows his eyelids to become heavy and close.
Content with her husband's hardness, Claire holds Joven's dick just to grace the lips of her pussy, easing herself down the dick, feeling her moist lips give way, as does the inner walls of her pussy until she drops down to rub herself firmly across his bollocks. Claire rocks herself with steadiness, slowly leaning over Joven to lift herself up his dick, then pumping herself with pressure back to the base to both of their pleasures.
Closing her eyes, feeling a dizziness make her head and upper body feel floatier, and feeling her insides pull to one side, then the other, almost like feeling the sickening effect of being on choppy sea waves. She lays herself down completely on her husband as she continues to ride him, feeling his body tense and stiffen under her, with surges of cold being felt in his chest.
Joven shoots his spunk up into his wife, and Claire opens her eyes to see her husband laying peacefully and still, beneath her. Not wanting to disturb him, she looks up, and reaches for a blanket from the back of the settee, and pulls it down to her as her husband's dick dangles loose from her pussy from the extent of her reach being too far to stay inside. She pulls the blanket around her back and lays gently down on her husband, snug under the warm fabric, albeit with a shiver inside her as she too feels rushes of cold, and she settles down to sleep.
A few days pass, and Tiffany Bright, 21, is at the offices of Cummings Enterprises International, scanning through documents and spreadsheets to check the businesses under her purview are operating as expected. Her eyes burn slightly as they feel strained from looking too strongly at screens for too long, but she is devoted to her work, and gives herself to it absolutely. Her smartphone buzzes on the desk at her laptop's side, on silent and vibrate, as she receives a phone call from a number she doesn't recognise.
Picking up her phone, Tiffany answers, and puts it on speakerphone, placing it back on the desk as she calls out, "Hello?"
A gentle female voice calls back, to ask, "Is that Miss Tiffany Bright?"
Tiffany feels somewhat exasperated as she answers, "Yes, you are through to Miss Tiffany Bright. Who are you, and why are you calling?"
The woman on the phone softly says, "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we have Mr Joven Bright, and Mrs Claire Bright, your parents in, and their records show you as their next of kin to contact. They were found deceased, and brought in to us to examine to find the cause of death. They are being autopsied right now. Are you able to come in? We would like to answer any questions you must have."
Tiffany feels a sickness in the pit of her stomach, but she holds it there, and she stares intensely at the laptop screen blankly as she calls into the phone, "I will be there as soon as I am able," and she puts the phone down. She feels a strong weight pressing down over her shoulders, almost forcing her into the chair much deeper as her thighs feel number, and the skin there feeling tighter.
Taking a few deep breaths, Tiffany turns on her phone from standby, and she scrolls through her phone's contact list, and taps to call Domhnall. He answers on speakerphone, "Domhnall Cummings speaking."
Tiffany calls to him, "Domhnall... I... just got a call from the hospital. They have my parents. They are dead..."
Domhnall concernedly asks, "How are you feeling?"
Tiffany shrugs, and responds casually, "It's fine."
