Snippets of an affair ~ Last First

[zahraowens]

Title: Snippets of an affair (25/25) ~ Last First Author: zahra_owens Beta: The lovely iona_lewis Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 3311 Warnings: Fluff, imperfect sex ;-) 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 1: The POV may change throughout the story, so the 'I' from this chapter may not be the 'I' from the previous chapter. Author's note 2:Translations from English to Argentinian Spanish by the lovely argentine65. If you want to know what's being said, the conversation mirrors the first intimate encounter they had in chapter 2

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It had always been a dream of mine to travel through Patagonia. Spending four months traveling around in an old beat up camping truck, with just you and my cameras made this dream come true. It wasn't all easy of course. Life never is. You were quiet and contemplative at times; sometimes you didn't want to talk or even seem to enjoy my company, but since we only had each other to rely on, we didn't have much choice. We had to live together and get along. I understood some of what was going on in your head, even when you didn't want to tell me about it, but I knew there was a war going on behind your eyes. I knew that even though you were tremendously relieved that your ex was no more, you felt guilty for having had a hand in his demise. In your darkest moment you told me you were afraid that having killed another human being would change something fundamental inside you and that you wouldn't be the same person ever again.

I tried to give you space, but also tried to make you talk about it, hoping that would put things in perspective for you. Little by little, you started to understand that this change was also a good thing and you slowly loosened up again.

Now, four months later and in the last week of being in Argentina, we're both ready to go home again. You've become quite a skilled photographer yourself and among the masses of photographs I sent to the National Geographic head office, there are more than a few that you shot, so I asked them to put both our names underneath the material.

It's strange to imagine that you and I started as a one night stand. Who finds their soul mate at a wedding, gets shagged by him in a public bathroom and actually ends up setting up a life with him? I certainly didn't see it coming. Unless of course you take in account that I fell for you that first time you walked up to me, giggly and drunk, after you'd bet your so called friends that you would shag me. I should have known that breaking all my own rules and ignoring all the warning bells was a sure sign of how much impact you'd made. Now all I can hope for is that we can grow old together and I never have to spend another day without you.

I love seeing how your confidence has returned, the trait that made me fall for you like a ton of bricks in the first place. Even as we visit my brother, who's lived in Buenos Aires most of his adult life, married a local girl and raised three children there, you don't waver as I simply introduce you by your name and I see my sister in law eye you suspiciously. They both know I'm gay, but I've never introduced them to my boyfriend before and I can see that her strict Catholic upbringing is interfering with her sense of hospitality. You confidently ignore her unease though and admit that even though you're worthless in the kitchen, you'd be more than happy to help her serve dinner. It takes you all of thirty minutes to win her heart and this make my brother nod approvingly in my direction as well. You're even a big hit with the teenagers, who don't miss a single opportunity to show that the fact they are all sitting down for dinner is a mandatory performance, because you try your newly acquired Spanish on them and you make tons of mistakes, but don't seem to care. When from time to time, you look at me from across the table, my heart melts; it's like the rest of the world stops existing and it's just you and I.

Just before midnight we say goodbye and make our way to our hotel again, but get out of the taxi in the street next to our street, because you spotted a rundown looking cinema showing movies at midnight. It takes some persuading to get me to go and despite the fact I think you're not going to be able to follow the story, because it's all spoken in Argentinian, your pleading look and the fact you tell me you're 'desperate for some culture', wins me over. When we get inside, there are only a few other people there and they sit somewhere near the middle of the small room. You take me towards the back, underneath the projectionist box, because there 'you can hold my hand without people noticing'. To my surprise, the film is quite good and very visual, so you seem to understand most of the storyline quite easily, despite your still very new Spanish. You're relaxed and happy, sitting next to me with our hands together between us and I can't stop looking at you because this feels like the beginning of the rest of our lives.

Then the leading man takes off his shirt to crawl into bed with his lady-love, and you turn towards me. "Very good looking actor, don't you think?" you whisper in my ear.

I'm not quite sure how to answer that. Yes, the dark brooding man on the cinema screen is ruggedly handsome, but your hand on the inside of my thigh is making sure the man on the screen is not where my attention is focused. As you move your hand up towards my groin and you kiss my neck, my jeans grow tight. These past four months we've become extremely comfortable with each other as we've learned to talk, communicate, not leave each other guessing. We've even discussed me bottoming again. I know you crave for it sometimes, and I certainly do as well, but every time we gravitate towards it, I get cold feet and turn the tables. And you've been very good at not showing me that you mind. I have no problem admitting that the love I feel for you transcends anything I've ever felt for anyone else and this easily translates in the way we make love, sometimes fast and furious, sometimes slow and caring and intimate. We also started indulging in semi-public displays of affection again since we both like making love in the open air and in places where we might get caught, although we both prefer finding public places where they might hear us but where we won't be seen. I know this is what you're playing at now, feeling me up here in the last row of the sparcely populated movie theatre. It's dark and the people sitting several rows in front of us have their eyes on the screen, yet we're kissing and you've taken my erection out of my jeans and are slowly rubbing it. I'm terribly turned on and since you have no intention of upping your rhythm, my mind drifts to our last week driving back up from the southern part of Patagonia, through the endless flat planes. The only varying sight was that of the cloud formations and whenever we would stop to take a leak or to eat something, we'd invariably end up making love, either in the back of the camper truck or, when we hadn't seen anyone around in a while, outside standing leaning against the truck. Even the occasional tree was abused for the purpose of alleviating our boredom, offering a novel position for our sexual activity. You were always eager to please and be pleasured and if I ever felt the need to overanalyse, I'd say we were addicted to it, and to each other. Maybe that's what years of sexual frustration does to a man; maybe it's just the elation of finding a soul mate as well as a perfect sexual partner that makes us so prolific. In any case, I'm enjoying it more than I ever care to admit to anyone but you.

"Help me out a bit?" you whisper in my ear. Our positions are a bit awkward, but I manage to weave my arm between our bodies and the armrest to return the stimulation you're giving me.

"Maybe we should take this elsewhere?" I suggest. You're keeping me on the edge and although I know that fear will grip me at the last moment, I want to feel you inside me, reawaken the amazing feeling you gave me the very first time we fucked.

You smile against my mouth and I can practically see the plan form inside your head. We passed toilets when we came to the theatre and this has always been our chosen venue in the past, so when you teasingly ask "Sudden urge to pee?" I know exactly what you mean. I nod, but you don't seem to have any intention of moving. Instead you bend down and take my erection in your mouth, sucking me none too gently. The sudden heat and the fact you've kept me close to coming for some time, makes me lose control and with one jerk of my hips, I come down your throat. After thoroughly licking me clean, you kiss me again, sharing my taste.

"I thought you wanted to take it further in the bathrooms?" I ask, overcome by the laziness of a sudden orgasm.

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you and you definitely need to be more relaxed for that," you answer giddily.

I tuck myself into my jeans again and see you do the same before we quietly make our way outside. You drag me around the corner and into the men's room and as we've come to expect in these old buildings, they're a bit shabby. After closing the door behind us, I lean against it, since there's no lock to keep unwanted outsiders from entering. The men's room is small, with a tiny mirror over the one chipped wash basin and just two cubicles in the back and I see you checking them.

"They lock," you say with a glint in your eye, so I follow you inside.

"Sorry there's no big mirror, but I think I like it better this way," I say, gently pushing you against the side of the cubicle, while I close the door.

I can tell by the tender way you caress my cheek that you know exactly why we're here. We've been through enough aborted attempts these last months for you to understand without an explanation. "I promise you that one day we'll do it in front of that humongous mirror in that reception hall again. Maybe after our own little ceremony."

I smile and kiss you, still feeling nicely relaxed, although my stomach is slowly turning knots. You're still hard and I enjoy feeling you grind against me, but I know you're just stalling for time and I don't need it now I've already come. I gently push you away so I can unzip you and then I lean against you. "Just do it," I whisper.

"But I need to prep you because I don't want to hurt you!"

"You won't hurt me. I've had plenty of time to heal." I kiss you passionately. "Every time you prep me, I have too much time to think and I lose the nerve." I stroke you gently, just to keep you hard. "Please?" I give you my best pleading look, knowing full well most of its effect is lost because of the dingy lighting.

"Maybe you just didn't get back on the horse fast enough?" you offer.

"I thought you wanted this too?"

You nod. "But not if it hurts you."

My confidence is waning quickly, but I want to be comfortable again and that means no longer fearing bottoming. This setup is perfect, because I can easily recall our first time, in the men's room at the back of the pub where the light was broken. "Come on," I urge you on, while I fish the packet of lube out of your jeans pocket where I know it always is. I turn around and lower my jeans, before leaning against the opposing wall. It's all a little clinical and unromantic, but we both know that if we do this once, we'll be able to inject all the romance we want next time. You're nervous. I can feel your irregular breathing against my neck and your slightly unsteady hand resting on my stomach.

"Please tell me to stop when I hurt you?"

I nod. I'm expecting it to hurt. It will hurt because of the memories of the rape, of what that man did to me, not because of the physical scars, so I try to relax, try to tell myself it's you and I trust you. Completely, utterly and with all my heart. I imagine our bonding, unbridled, total, without the barrier of latex. I know how perfect it feels when I'm inside you, when we're totally connected and I want to give that to you as well. I want us to be equal, in all ways and that means I don't want this to stand in our way any more.

I try to keep my breathing calm, letting the air flow in and out through my mouth when I feel your cock push against my entrance. I close my eyes and focus on you, on your breathing and your heart pounding its way out of my chest as you press yourself against my back. This is the point where I usually ask you to stop. I can't do that now though. I can't because I promised myself I wouldn't take this feeling home with us again. I want to leave that feeling here, far away from our home, and return all healed.

I freeze when my body gives way, allowing you to slip inside me. You freeze too, holding me close. I'm amazed that you've been able to keep up your erection, because there's nothing sexy about our coupling.

"I'm hurting you, Love," you say and I shake my head.

"No, don't stop." I can barely control the shake in my voice that betrays my struggle to maintain control, but I don't want to back out now. The burn is slowly easing and it can only get better now. "Move," I order. "Please," I add with a chuckle.

You start moving ever so slowly, progressing minute bits as you slowly rock in and out and the tension is almost too much for both of us. You lean your chin on my shoulder and I lean my head back on yours, that way it feels more soothing and relaxing and takes the pressure off me. I know you're smiling, because this is the furthest we've come in a very long time. I can't say it feels good, but it doesn't really hurt either as I welcome the burn. You shiver when you're all the way inside me and I know you're trying not to thrust even though your body tells you it wants to.

I lean back more so I can kiss you, trying to convey that you can move and don't have to hold back any more. I know I won't get hard this time, let alone come, but it doesn't matter. We both know that next time, there will be no more fear and then maybe I can enjoy it.

"Fuck you're tight," you murmur against my mouth.

"You're a lot bigger than I remember too," I chuckle briefly, trying not to move too much, because the last thing I want is for you to slip out. You slowly start rocking back and forth, tentatively upping the length of your stroke and then suddenly you brush over my prostate and I can't hold back a whimper. You stop moving and as I move my hand back to show you I'm okay, I hear a door bang.

"¿ Todo bien ahí?" a gruff male voice asks in Argentinian Spanish. I barely dare to breathe and I try to look at you over my shoulder, but the noise of our clothes rustling sounds very loud in the small men's room.

We listen to him pee and when I feel your arms squeeze me tightly, I realise your Spanish isn't nearly good enough to answer. I have to hold back a giggle though as all this sounds frighteningly familiar. "Ehm, sí seguro... sólo me enganché en mi cierre," I eventually say, borrowing your excuse from the very first time we fucked.

"Eso duele como el diablo," the guy answers, before he zips up and walks towards our cubicle. "Espero que lo pueda arreglar."

After he's gone, we both breathe a sigh of relief, but you don't relax behind me. "You okay?" I ask worriedly.

"I came," you say quietly, almost as if you feel guilty about it.

"That's okay," I reply and I feel you slip out of me, so I turn around and put my arms around you.

"I'm sorry, it was all the tension and then the guy walking in, so I remembered our first time and you know how I get off on these kinds of situations?"

I nod and gently kiss you. "It's okay, Angel. Why don't we go back to the hotel room and then we can do this again and maybe both enjoy it?"

You rest your forehead against mine and nod as I try to make you smile.


A few hours later, after a short night's rest, I have you right where I want you: in our hotel bed, flat on your back, your arms pinned above your head and hard, very hard.

"Want to ride you," I say, trying to sound seductive.

"You're going to be sore," you caution.

"I know. Can't think of a better way for that to happen though."

"We have to get on a plane tonight. We'll be travelling for the next 24 hours."

I nod. "I know. I'll live." I slowly sink down on your thoroughly slicked up cock and this time it definitely feels sexy. I know I'll be sore, but I don't care. This was our last hurdle. We've come full circle.

I'm almost as hard as you are and slowly but surely I manage to ride you in earnest, unhindered by pain or fear. I can even lean down to kiss you and when you feel I'm growing tired, you take over, thrusting up into my body from below. I tilt my pelvis slightly until you're thrusting against my sweet spot, making me slowly spiral out of control. I know I'm close, but somehow the one thing I need to push me over is just outside my reach.

You stop and I moan in frustration. "Let's move?" you suggest and I agree silently, so we roll over until our positions are reversed. This time it's me on my back, my knees spread wide and you're leaning over me. You envelop my moist cock with your hand and as you kiss me deeply, you start thrusting hard and fast. Your tongue invades my mouth and we're totally connected. Body and soul. It only takes me a few sharp thrusts to come, violently, into your hand and between our bellies. You continue to push into me, ever more powerful and I just keep coming until you cry out and collapse on top of me. I hold you close, our lips still touching as we try to catch our breath, one of my hands lovingly cradling your skull, the other softly caressing your ass cheek. We both continue to twitch for a while whenever we move.

One thing is crystal clear to me now. You are my man. The one I've waited all my life for and the one I hope to spend the rest of it with.

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