Soul Sucker
Family History

John Miller’s POV

Newark, New Jersey

Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 2022

Mary and I filled each other in on what happened with her parents while we headed north. “Mom likes you,” she told me. “She thinks you are a nice guy, but what won her over was how you are with Heather. She told me that a man who makes my daughter as much a priority as me is a keeper.”

“She’s not wrong,” I teased. “I wasn’t worried about your Mom.”

“How was my Dad?”

“We reached an understanding,” I replied hesitantly. We were past the heavy New York traffic by the time we got done talking about it. “I think he understands that our relationship is our business now,” I said as the traffic thinned out.

“I appreciate you setting the boundaries early. How much longer to your parent’s place?”

“Ninety minutes, maybe more with traffic,” I replied. “Why? What do you like to do on road trips?”

Her left hand moved up my leg, bumping into my cock. She lightly traced the outlines with her finger. “When I was a kid, Mom and I would sing. Boredom isn't the problem, John. I’m so fucking horny right now,” she confessed. “When we arrive, it’s going to be chaos. The house will be full of people.”

“And we’ll be lucky to steal a kiss in a closet,” I told her. Her fingers squeezed the head. “You need some relief, baby?”

“I’m desperate, John. Can we pull over somewhere? Have a quickie?”

I just smiled. “No time for that. Reach under the seat and pull out the bag.” She found it and pulled the shopping bag out. On top was a towel; she looked at me quizzically. “I knew you’d be on edge, so I prepared a surprise. Place the towel on the seat, then sit down with your skirt hiked to your waist and your panties down to your ankles.”

Her jaw dropped, and she looked around in panic. “JOHN! People will see!”

“Do you trust me?” She nodded. “Take the rest out.” At the bottom was a bulbous pink device with a small tail and a small packet of lube. “Get set up, then put the big part inside with the tail in front. You can pull some of the towel into your lap once ready.”

She looked around and saw no one was near us. “Don’t let anyone see me.” She unbuckled, set the towel down, hiked her skirt, and inserted the Bluetooth-enabled vibrator. I reached over, powered it up, then connected it to my phone app while ensuring nothing showed. She twitched as it fired up on a low buzz. “Now what?”

“Now we crank the tunes and sing along,” I replied with a grin. I found a music station on Sirius that was playing ‘Slow Ride’ and cranked it up.

“Holy shit!” Mary almost launched herself out of her seat when the sound-following feature of the app kicked in. The louder the music, the stronger the buzz. It was one powerful vibrator!

Mary screamed through her first orgasm, followed thirty seconds later by another as I sang along. Two songs and four orgasms later, she was telling me it was too much. When I refused, Mary upped the ante. Leaning over the center console, she unzipped my fly and took my hard cock out, stroking it to hardness. “Are you sure?”

I looked down at her, and I wanted it so badly. "You could convince me."

“I can’t be the only one getting off before we get there,” she said. “Put the cruise control on and pay attention.”

Five minutes later, I was singing along to “Rock Me Amadeus” with the radio cranked high and my cock buried in her throat. She’d just vacuumed me clean when I looked in the mirror and saw the flashing lights coming up fast. “Shit,” I said. “State Trooper. Put me away and straighten yourself out!”

By the time I pulled onto the shoulder and stopped, Mary and I had dressed again, though the car smelled strongly of sex. I rolled all windows down, but it might not be enough. A second trooper stopped behind me, and I watched the two in the mirrors as they checked the car. I had my license and her registration out, along with my permit. “Officers, I’m retired law enforcement and carrying,” I told them.

“Keep your hands in sight, sir. Where is the firearm?”

“Back of right hip,” I replied.

“Step out of the car, please.” He had me keep my hands on the car as the other trooper called in my license and permit. As a retired cop, I could carry anywhere in the United States, even in New York. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“I might have been weaving.”

“We thought you were drunk, but you’re busy getting road head,” he told me. “I saw her head bobbing, you’ve got spit all over your khakis, and the car smells like pussy.”

“You’re right. It wasn’t a good idea.”

He shook his head. “Distracted driving is as dangerous as drunk driving, and I can’t let that slide. Not even for a cop.” Everything checked out, and he handed me the ticket for distracted driving and returned to his cruiser.

I waited for them to pull out before I started her car again. “That was the most expensive blowjob ever,” I said as we pulled back into traffic. “Two hundred dollar fine. It could have been worse, though.”

“You going to pay it?”

“Hell yeah. Then I’m framing this ticket and putting it on the wall of my man cave! Or maybe the office!”

I handed it to her, and she paled as she read the accurate description of the offense. “Oh my GOD, John! You can’t do that! Everyone will know it was me!”

“Then I’ll keep it in our bedroom, baby.”

The rest of the drive was boring compared to that. It wasn’t far north of Springfield and south of the Mount Holyoke Range. My parents moved there after my grandmother died of cancer, back when I was in fifth grade. They’d had to sell parts of the farm along the way, but the big farmhouse was unchanged as I drove up the driveway.

There were at least twenty cars in the driveway. I had a big Irish-Catholic family, with eight brothers and sisters, plus our aunts, uncles, and cousins. “I’ll apologize in advance for the utter chaos I’m delivering you to,” I said as we parked. “If it gets to be too much, let me know.”

“I’ll send up a flare,” she promised. A sea of relatives surrounded the car before I could open her door. I made introductions, thinking she’d be lucky to remember a third of them by the time we got inside. Everyone was excited to meet Mary, the first woman I’d dated seriously since my divorce.

They’d eaten the big meal already, but there were snacks on the table and coolers of beer and cokes underneath. I introduced Mary to my parents, and my Mom hugged her. I was talking with my father and grandfather for a minute, and when I turned around, Mary was gone. “The ladies dragged her to the kitchen to interrogate her,” my Grandfather told me. “She’ll be fine. Grab a Coke and watch the Patriots with me.”

“Sure, Pops.”

I tried to check on Mary during the game, but she shooed me off. “I’m learning all kinds of things about you,” she said with a smile.

Naturally, the Patriots choked. They were getting the ball back before a stupid running into the punter penalty kept the Vikings alive on the winning drive. Mary finally returned to me for the last few minutes of the game and reminded me that life was more than football.

I waggled my eyebrows. “Bedtime fun?”

“We’ve been assigned an inflatable Queen bed in the basement,” Mary replied. “We’re sharing the room with four other people, and there’s already a line for the shower.” Mom was cock-blocking me! “No wedding ring, no private bedroom,” Mary said in a decent imitation of Mom’s voice.

“We’ll figure something out. I might have to gag you,” I whispered.

I never did. I woke up at five and rolled off the blow-up bed. Mary didn’t wake up, so I left her and went to the bathroom to get dressed. It didn’t matter that it was a holiday weekend on a farm; people were up already, and the coffee pot was ready to go. I grabbed a cup and walked onto the back deck, replaceing Grandpa sitting in a chair, looking at the mountains. “Morning Pops,” I told him as I sat down.

We chatted about the weather before he asked if I had any new stories. He always loved to hear my cop stories when I was on the job. “You know I’m an insurance investigator now? It’s not like I’m still in Homicide.”

“You always found a way to get in the shit, no matter what job you had,” he said with a laugh.

I started telling him about the pattern of deaths and the potential Black Widow, or multiple Black Widows, that might be out there. “I can’t prove a damn thing, Pops. I even went to meet one of the widows. She looked beautiful, but when I touched her? She creeped me the hell out.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “You know how sometimes you touch someone and get a feeling in your gut? Most times, it isn’t much. When I shook Jordyn Carter’s hand, there was this coldness and evil about her I’ve never felt before.”

“You sense whether people are good or bad when you touch them?”

I nodded. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, they don’t. Is your feeling accurate?”

“So far. It took me a while to trust it, but with practice, it got better. It’s not admissible in court, but it’s guided a few of my investigations.”

“This feeling you felt with the Carter woman. Did it make you shiver?”

“Yeah. My instincts told me to run away, but I felt this pull at the same time.” I took a sip of coffee then looked at him. “How do you know the feeling?”

“I've only heard the stories. None of my grandfather’s children or their children inherited his gift. We all thought it died with him, but your story tells me I’m wrong. There is another in the family now.”

“Another what, Pops?”

“Your great-great grandfather was a Demon Hunter.”