Snippets of an affair ~ First defiance

[zahraowens]

Title: Snippets of an affair (19/?) ~ First defiance Author: zahra_owens Beta: An absolute angel who'll remain anonymous... Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 1487 Warnings: Angst Disclaimer: Persons and events described here may, on the surface, seem familiar, but I don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Author's note: The POV may change throughout the story, so the 'I' from this chapter may not be the 'I' from the previous chapter.

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It never hit me harder what an impact our ex-lovers have on our lives than that day you saw him again.

It hadn't been an easy task to forget that your ex-pilot was free to do as he pleased. He'd put on quite a show at the police station apparently; I was almost sorry I'd missed it. We'd given conflicting statements, so an official hearing was forthcoming, but they hadn't seen a reason to keep him behind bars until then. He'd portrayed himself as trustworthy and regretful of what happened and had called our altercation a misunderstanding; sex games gone wrong. He hadn't hidden that you were his ex-lover and had painted a picture of an amicable split, so amicable that he was still invited to join us in a threesome from time to time. Like that day, when you had asked him to be allowed to watch how he fake-raped me, yes, sir, at knife-point and no, sir, he hadn't meant to cut me.

When they had come for my statement, I'd been heavily sedated and apparently hadn't made much sense. You weren't any better. Who could make sense of what happened anyway? So they believed the long range airline pilot with the spotless criminal record over the part-time photographer and the waiter and didn't feel he was a threat. The consequence was, we didn't leave the house much. You went to work and straight home again afterwards and I hid inside, at first not having the courage to face the world but after you'd helped me to quit drinking, I slowly started working again as well, getting into the habit of calling a cab to go to the restaurants or photo studios to do my job.

He all but disappeared from our lives, something we were both grateful for, but that changed the week before the hearing. We started getting phone calls in the middle of the night. At first we picked up, but there was never anybody at the other end. If we didn't pick up, the ringing would last forever. Eventually we unplugged the phone, just to get a night's sleep.

Then you arrive home after work, panting as if you'd been running. At first you don’t want to tell me what happened, but when I finally manage to convince you I need to know, it all comes flooding out.

"He was there, waiting for me. For a moment I thought it was you so I looked back. He'd been standing in the same doorway and..." you pause, catching your breath. "He said they were going to find him innocent and then he'd come back and finish the job."

I grab you and pull you into my arms. "He's trying to intimidate you and scare both of us."

"And the bastard's succeeding."

"I think he hopes we'll corroborate his story."

"That would set him free and then he CAN come back and finish what he started!" You pull away from me and I can see that dark line in your forehead appearing.

"Let's call the police and tell them what happened?" I suggest.

"What's the use?" you sigh, exasperated. "It's my word against his and what if they laugh at me again?"

I pull you closer and lead you to the living room. "I can't believe they'd dare laugh at you, Angel," I try to soothe you. "You told me this before..."

"Well, they weren't laughing directly at me." You sigh and look at me as if you're trying to gauge whether or not you can trust me. "Remember I told you that when I was still with him, I tried to report him to the police?"

I nod.

"The guy who was going to take my statement was this burly, middle-aged guy who takes nothing seriously. You know the type, right?"

I smile wryly and nod again, I know the kind of police officer who spends most of his time behind a desk.

"Well, he had a hard time keeping a straight face when he led me to his desk, and then after I'd told him why I was there, he got up to get us coffee and I saw them, three of them at the coffee machine, laughing as if I was the biggest joke in town, so I just got up and left! I can't go through that again, honestly I can't!"

"Is that why you didn't make much sense when you gave your statement after the ... after what happened?"

You nod, looking down at your hands.

"They were probably just joking around before you came in and maybe they just had a hard time stopping. I seriously doubt they were laughing at you."

"Yeah, I guess," you shrug.

The next day, we both go to the police station and you give your statement. They record it, but they don’t offer you much peace of mind, echoing that, with no witnesses, it’s your word against his.

That night, I pick you up at the restaurant in a cab, which is silly because it's only a short walk, but I don’t want him to get another shot at you. Now it is my turn to be the protector again, to calm you down, soothe you and more importantly, to make you relax enough to be able to sleep.

As I predicted, you're tense and nervous getting ready for bed. You've made sleeping a lot easier for me these past weeks simply because I know that when I have a nightmare, you're there to tell me everything will be okay. I’ve even stopped being nervous about not being able to perform in bed. You've made me believe you when you say that the kissing and touching we do at night is enough for you, but maybe tonight I should try to aim higher. Maybe tonight you need comfort more than I do.

After about half an hour of your tossing and turning and soft cussing, I wrap my arms around you so we're spooning, me behind you. I shush you until you give into my touch, albeit reluctantly, and slowly let my hand trail down your flat, toned stomach towards the band of your pyjama bottoms. You let your head fall back as I dip underneath it and press down on your groin.

"You don't have to, Love," you say in a deep voice.

"But you know it'll feel good," I reply, slowly enveloping your rapidly growing erection. You easily give in to my touch and wantonly rub your ass against my groin. To my surprise I feel my blood rushing south and it's pretty amazing to feel aroused again for the first time in months, so I grind back, making you moan.

"More," you order and when I don't immediately comply, your hand moves to claw at my hips, trying to pull my boxers down. The urgency in your movements flatters me, but I still doubt I'll be able to give you what you demand. I know how to give you what you need right now though, so I keep moving the skin back and forth over your hard cock, occasionally running my thumb over the hypersensitive head or moving down to cup your balls. I know what works for you and right now that's enough for me. You manage to free my cock as well and with some wiggling, it ends up between your legs, rubbing over your puckered entrance.

"Oooh, fuck me, please," you groan. "Need you so much!"

I don't have any lube at hand and I know you're too close to stop long enough for me to reach for it. I also know I'm not hard enough to enter you, so I settle for fisting you harder in the hope I can talk you through it. "Just come for me, Angel. I know you're close. Just let go." I've done this so many times and I know what these words do to you, so I'm not surprised that a few thrusts between your legs combined with a swipe across the head of your cock sends you over with a wail.

What does surprise me is that the feeling of your body tensing up and your hips reflexively thrusting back against my groin increases my own arousal. I thrust a few more times, matching your movements and my orgasm almost comes out of nowhere, flooding my senses.

We're both panting, hearts racing and fighting for breath and it’s the only sound in our otherwise silent house. After a little while, after I feel you're relaxed now, I slowly move to get up.

"Don't go!" you plead. "Please stay, I need you here."

"I'm just going to get a cloth…"

"I don't care, please don't leave."

"Sssh, it's okay, but we're all sticky."

"Don't care," you repeat, so I snuggle closer, spooning you once again. "You came too, right?"

"Yes," I whisper. "You made me come too, Angel."

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