How Not To Commit Murder

By Robin Storey

Crime & mystery, Comedy & satire

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2 mins


Reuben awoke to find himself staring at a large brown nipple. At first he didn’t recognise it – it was just a dark blob, blurred because it was almost poking him in the eye, surrounded by a curving expanse of paleness.

He moved his head back a fraction for a clearer view. Some men were turned on by large, dark nipples, although he himself preferred small, pert pink nipples. Of course he didn’t let on to the owner of the dark nipples, his wife of six weeks and three days.

Had the nipple been placed there deliberately? Even though he and Carlene had been at it like rabbits since the wedding, he wasn’t a morning person, and wasn’t sure if he was up to it today. Besides, he had an appointment with his parole officer; and just the thought was enough to put a damper on his libido.

But neither did he want to offend Carlene by ignoring her nipple. She was proud of her generous breasts, and even at thirty-one, hers were as firm and upright as a teenager’s. He gave it a tentative lick.

It moved away instantly as Carlene raised herself on her side. Both nipples were now aimed straight at him – like two weapons ready to shoot. She gave him a playful shove.

‘Rubie! We haven’t got time; it’s already past seven.’

‘You’ll keep, young lady!’ he said, with a lecherous wink. He fancied himself as a sex machine – always on idle, ready to rev up at any moment. And after three years inside, he had a lot of catching up to do.

Carlene giggled, planted a kiss on his forehead and sprang out of bed. He watched her as she sashayed to the ensuite – dark curls brushing her back, the pale orbs of her buttocks jiggling. In the past he’d preferred compact, petite women, so he was still getting used to her Marilyn Monroe figure. Her voluptuousness engulfed him – at night she sprawled out in bed, often leaving him balanced precariously on the edge, and when she hugged him she almost suffocated him. During sex she often wrapped herself around him so tightly that his senses were stifled and all he was aware of was the weight of her body on his.

He propped himself up and watched her through the open door as she soaped herself in the shower. There was something so erotic about watching a woman wash herself ... though after his long period of deprivation, watching a woman doing anything was erotic. He felt himself get hard. When Carlene entered the bedroom wrapped in a towel he said, ‘Hey honey, want to go camping?’

She looked puzzled. He pointed to the sheet, which he had draped over his erect penis. ‘I’ve got the tent.’

She gave a perfunctory smile and rolled her eyes. ‘Come on, Mum’ll be here soon. She’s got some shopping to do in Chermside, so she can give you a lift to the parole office.’

He groaned inwardly. He usually caught the bus to his parole appointments, as Carlene needed the car for work. It would be good not to strap hang with his nose in someone’s sweaty armpit, but the downside was a road trip with his mother-in-law. Only a twenty-minute drive, admittedly, but it would seem twice as long. On balance, the sweaty armpit won, but it would be impolite to knock back Nancy’s offer of a ride.



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