His Car Keys

An image showing car keys and other keys on a key ring.

The sound of his car keys clattering into the bowl on the table in the hallway was the sound she waited for every afternoon.

He always followed the same routine. Roundabout six every afternoon, his car pulled into the driveway. Two minutes later, she would hear his key scratching in the lock as it entered and turned in the keyhole, and the door would open. A brief silence always followed the closing of the door. That was when he put his briefcase under the coat rack, from where he always retrieved it after dinner. He would hang up his coat, then reach into the left pocket of his pants to take out his car keys, and deposit them in the ceramic bowl on the table.

It was close to six o’clock. The sun was already setting behind the horizon. The ticking of the clock was the only sound around Elisa heard as her thoughts traveled back to that one morning.

Her early mornings always looked the same.

She woke at five thirty and got up before him to make coffee and breakfast. Half an hour later, he would join her, freshly showered and handsome in a suit, ready for his day at the office. A hand on her bottom, a peck on her cheek and a whispered good morning preceded breakfast, coffee and his morning paper. An hour later, he was ready to leave to face the morning traffic and get to the office as early as possible for a day full of meetings and making deals, while she went back to bed to sleep until eight thirty before starting her chores for the day.

That one morning was different.

Something had woken her.

Not her alarm clock.

Something else.

She glanced at the clock, noticing it would chime in about half an hour. Since she was wide awake, she wanted to get up, but he held her back. Surprised, she turned around to face Jake.

“Stay with me,” he smiled and pulled her into his embrace.

She turned her face up towards him. He looked down at her, his eyes full of love, and bent his head down to kiss her. Not a peck, but a deep, lingering kiss that ignited the flames in her core. Elisa moaned and pressed her body against his. He pulled her closer and his hand moved down, clawing at her nightgown. He finally found the hem, slipped his hand under it and right inside her knickers.

His fingers pushed through the curly hair, gently parted her lips, and touched her clitoris. Elisa moaned. The last time they had started the day with sex, they were still young and full of dreams of a family, but that never happened.

Lust rushed through her body as she arched her back. Jake’s fingers moved back to her pubic hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.

“Yessss,” Elisa hissed. “Yessss.”
“You like that. I forgot how much you liked this.” Jake said and pulled harder.
“Jake, please, please.”
“Please more? Please, no more? Tell me, Elisa, tell me.”
“More. More. I want more. Fuck me.”

In an instant, he turned her over on her stomach, pulled her nightdress up, pushed an arm under her and lifted her to her knees. Her bottom was now up in the air, right in front of him. Slaps rained down on it. Elisa’s moans turned into screams, then wailing, then begging. Her fingers found her clitoris the moment Jake rammed his rigid cock deep into her, fucking her hard and deep enough to hit her cervix. She almost passed out when her orgasm took hold of her body, and lay in his arms afterwards, feeling his semen leaking from her sore cunt.

His hand wasn’t merely on her bottom when he came downstairs for breakfast afterward. He slapped her hard on both cheeks and the peck on her cheek now was a passionate kiss.

She sat across from him at the breakfast table, naked. His attention wasn’t only on his paper. Several times, Jake glanced at Elisa. Silent communication passed between them. Life had dealt them some hard blows. It had taken them years to adjust to life without a family.

Something had changed.

The universe was smiling down at them again. They had healed and were ready to continue where they had left off years ago.

Ready to continue soon.

That night.

Jake had held Elisa close to him before he left for work, kissing her mouth and her neck and fondling her breasts. He left her panting and wet in the kitchen. She heard him retrieving his keys from the ceramic bowl on the table in the hallway and waited for the front door to close behind him.

Jake didn’t come home that night.

He never came home again.

His car keys were in the bowl, where Elisa had put them on the day she returned from the funeral.


Note: This story was first written in October 2017, three months after my mom passed away. Her death had a lot of influence on the stories I wrote roundabout that time.

© Rebel’s Notes
Image from Pixabay


14 thoughts on “His Car Keys

  1. So sad Marie, I was entirely hooked into their story and like everyone else, I fell right off the edge and had tears in my eyes. Very powerful story. Brilliantly written. x

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