Butterfly's Year

18. Post-traumatic stress

When Victor led me down the stairs, police officers were already milling around in the hall. One, who looked the most important, approached me with a sympathetic expression.

– We don't know if it's a suicide or not – he began cautiously but firmly. – In any case, we need to determine if anything is missing. Do you feel up to...

– You must be joking – Victor cut the officer off firmly. – She's leaving with me, and I'm taking her home.

As if to confirm his words, he put his arm around me and squeezed tightly.

– And I wouldn't be able to help you anyway – I added weakly, for the first time grateful that Victor wanted to handle everything for me. – I haven't lived here for a long time.

I wanted to evacuate from that cursed house as quickly as possible and never return. Let someone else handle identifying and checking if anything was missing. I didn't care about anything related to the now fortunately dead donor of half my genetic material, and with great relief, I took the passenger seat in my brand-new Porsche.

Now the issue of the surprise car and the whole argument that had grown around it and the apartment seemed laughable and meaningless. I was even glad that I could surround myself with something that had no soul and no smell of other people's memories preserved in the upholstery or corners behind the living room furniture.

I had no idea why I felt so shaken. After all, the fact that he was no longer among us and couldn't harm anyone anymore was very comforting, even joyful. Maybe it was because seeing him hanging under that chandelier made me realize that he, too, was mortal? He wasn't a soulless demon, just an ordinary mortal, and his cruelties also had an end.

I felt a great agitation inside, as if every cell in my body was trembling, but I wasn't sure if it was from laughter or perhaps fear. Whether I wanted it or not, this death had affected me more than I would have liked.

So I sat in the passenger seat and stared at the passing landscape through the window, clutching a small, plush dog with bald ears in my hands.

– Are you okay?– Victor asked timidly after an undefined amount of time, looking at me with concern.

I turned my gaze to him and blinked a few times to sharpen my vision.

– Stop – I said.

– What? – he was surprised.

– Stop – I repeated firmly.

– Here?

– Yes.

That's exactly what I needed now. I immediately needed to do something and feel that I was living as usual and that nothing had changed.

– Move to the passenger seat – I commanded.

– You want to drive? – he asked, already standing next to me on the right side of the car, but instead of answering, I pushed him into the passenger seat and straddled him.

– What are you doing? – he asked when I closed the car door and started unbuttoning his pants, simultaneously covering his lips with kisses. – This might not be the best moment...

He didn't finish, just gently moved my face away from his and looked at me with a mix of concern and surprise.

– Victor, please – I moaned in response because I couldn't explain it even to myself, let alone him. – I need normalcy. I want to do something simple and ordinary.

He didn't say anything more. He pulled my face to him and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then completely surrendered to me. He helped me pull down his underwear and, without protesting that it might be inappropriate right after someone's death, allowed me to reach for his member with my hands.

So I took his manhood in my hand and stroked it with a sliding motion, and when it was hard enough, I sat on him, sliding him into me all the way. Victor moaned softly and closed his eyes. Not stopping the rhythmic up-and-down motion, I groped for his hands in the dark. I placed his right hand on my left breast and his left hand on my clitoris, giving him a hint to start rubbing it. I knew that this way I could quickly bring him to orgasm, and I also wanted to come quickly and strongly.

I snuggled into my beloved and, ignoring the growing fatigue in my thighs, savored the wonderful feeling as the space shrank more and more. First to the size of the car, then just the seat. I replaced his hand with my own because although he tried very hard, I knew better what kind of touch I needed now, and without stopping the rhythmic movements up and down, I vigorously rubbed my clitoris.

I felt my pussy rhythmically clench around Victor's penis, and after a moment, bliss spread through every cell of my body. I froze, shaken by successive waves of orgasm, so Victor took the initiative and pushed his hips a few more times, bombarding me with an extra dose of sensations, and then he, too, stilled.

– Thank you – I murmured, clinging to his chest, which Victor only responded to by tightening his arms around my waist.

I sat like that for a moment without a word, clinging to him like a young koala to its mother, then got up and let him take the driver's seat again.

– Are you sure you feel okay? – he asked when we were already in the underground parking lot of the building where the new apartment was, and I was getting ready to get out of the car.

– Yes – I replied carelessly. – Why should I feel bad?

– Well, because your father... – Victor began uncertainly.

– It doesn't matter – I quickly interrupted him. – He was never an important part of my life.

– So why were you so...? – He gave me a meaningful look.

– I was surprised that something could kill him – I replied, still dazed from the recent orgasm, so lying came exceptionally easily. – The bastard surprised me.

In reality, though I didn't want to admit it, his death did shake me. I couldn't just ignore someone's death, even if it was a tyrant whose end I had imagined thousands of times.

I got out of the Porsche without looking Victor in the eye and slowly started walking towards the elevator, certain that he would catch up with me soon. But after taking a few steps, I felt a tug from behind that made my heart leap from my chest to my throat.

From behind a pillar in the underground parking lot, a dark, hooded figure suddenly appeared and grabbed me from behind with an arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed blonde curls, and then a familiar voice sounded in my ears.

– Hi, blondie. Did you miss me?