John Francis

Jon awoke roughly two-and-a-half hours later, not long after Richie had awakened Amanda for the first check on her. He was still drink befuddled, but more sober since he had been sick to his stomach. He needed a bathroom. He stood, naked, and glanced around. Where the fuck am I?, he thought, then went in search of a bathroom. Two doors down he entered a room at whim as his need had become more urgent and quickly located a bathroom.

Thanking the porcelain gods, Jon stumbled to the toilet, immediately fell towards the wall, resting on it with one hand and praying for accuracy with the other. Opening one eye blearily, he wondered how much longer this was going to take as he started to sway, shifting his weight from side to side, caring less and less about the maid. Giving it a final shake, he finished victoriously feeling as if he deserved an “A” for effort.

When he turned to leave the bathroom, the light showed there was someone in the bed. Leaving the door cracked so there was a bit of light, he went over to the bed and looked down. A lot of dark very long hair was the first thing he noticed, then his practiced eye traveled down the figure barely covered by a bath towel. He had a vague memory of that hair and reached out to touch it. It was as lush as it looked and he ran a hand down its length. By the dim light of the bathroom he saw a small waist, curved hip, and long legs.

Unbidden, but not unexpectedly, his groin filled with blood and that brought a smile of lust to his face. Moving the towel he stared at heavy creamy breasts and his drink-addled logic censor just blew. He moved toward her, taking one of her breasts into his mouth as he curled his other hand in her hair.

Amanda was dreaming. An amazing dream. An “oh my god, don’t stop now” dream of a man, her husband, making love to her. Soft lips were at one of her breasts and a hand kneaded the other, causing her nipples to rise into hard peaks of need. Wetness had started between her legs and she unknowingly raised her hips to receive him, but fulfillment remained just out of reach.

Jon, sobering more by the moment, could not believe the response from this woman. She stirred enticingly under his hands, shuddering and raising her hips in anticipation. He needed a fucking rubber! He quickly returned to the bathroom as he had recognized Tico’s house once there was some light and searched in the drawers. “SHIT! There has to be one!” was his anguished hiss. Suddenly opening the right drawer, he found one. Tearing the foil open he slapped the condom on so fast he almost hurt himself as he was walking back to the bed as he was doing it.

He saw that she had turned onto her back, the towel now completely gone thanks to his work and her turn. Dark hair gleamed between her legs and her chest was flushed. He stared for a moment then turned to her again. Jesus she’s soft, he thought, licking around one nipple before taking it full into his mouth. She gave a little whimper and moved her legs again.

Taking a hand, he placed it into the soft folds at the top of her legs and gently stroked, sliding his hand over and over her most sensitive spot, dipping in two then three fingers and feeling her rise to meet his strokes. His need was so raw he felt the condom would burst if he did not take her now.

The thrust was what woke her. The unbelievable fullness she felt, the hard throbbing…she moaned, “oh my baby…yes…YES!”, her voice rising in a husky moan. Jon heard the sweet whiskey of her voice and felt a shudder run through him. He raised himself up onto his arms and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and tears were flowing. He almost stopped, but she wrapped her legs around his ass, thrusting herself against his hardness, and he lost his control.

Thrusting into her over and over again, holding her close now, he felt her breasts against his chest and her hands in his hair. He felt her tightening around him, movement a little slicker due to her wetness and in anticipation of what was coming. She moaned again and again and then exploded against him, the force of her orgasm nearly forcing them both off the bed. His strong arms held her hips down enough to continue to stroke inside her.

The force of the orgasm brought Amanda fully awake. She saw and felt the man above her now…longish hair? Furry chest? Really tight ass? What the fu…? she thought, thinking that NOW she was dreaming. The man pumping wildly into her, making her hips rise again and again almost of their own accord, was not her husband.

Her body refused to believe her still groggy mind, however, and almost against her will she felt the tension building, her breasts licked and sucked with an aching slowness that had them swelling against the touch. She felt the heavy cock inside her, felt the fullness as the man move again and again, more passionately now. Jon plunged wildly until she came again and this time he exploded inside her, pulling her hips up until he was rammed into her as tight as he could be, her walls pulling at every drop.

Ragged breathing was the only sound heard in the room as both tried to recover from the shock of their orgasms. Finally Amanda, moving slowly, reached out a hand and hit the base of a lamp that turned on at her touch. The sudden brightness of the light brought the man’s head up to look directly into her face. She found herself staring into the only blue eyes on the planet she would know anywhere.

She couldn’t move. She literally couldn’t move. Her mind could not comprehend how in the hell she could be in bed with Jon Bon Jovi. It was too unreal, too much, and she felt herself slipping away again into blackness.

“JON!!! What the fuck are you doing?” Richie screamed hoarsely as he opened the door. “She’s hurt, man, get OFF her!”

Jon disentangled himself from her, grabbing at the towel she had been in to cover himself. Richie entered the room, saw Amanda’s dishevelment, the flushed skin, the musk of sex, and knew he was too late. He reached for a cover and gently folded it around her. Turning, he grabbed Jon by the arm and pulled him from the room, not caring now about being gentle.

Sitting downstairs, an hour later, with several cups of coffee in him and having had some food, an almost fully sobered Jon Bon Jovi still wanted to cringe from what he had heard. It couldn’t be possible, could it? He had never hurt a woman in his life. He cringed at that too…ok, never PHYSICALLY hurt a woman. But Richie had explained what he had seen – Jon on top of an unconscious woman in a public parking lot, with the woman found to have a cut and bump on her head.

“What’s her name?” he asked Richie.

A hard scowl formed on Richie’s face. “You asshole! You don’t even know her name?”

Jon just shook his head back and forth.

“Amanda Matthews. Her driver’s license says she’s 44 and lives here in the area.” Richie looked at Jon scathingly, “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Don’t you get enough women? You gotta start attacking them in public for Christ’s sake?”

“Rich, man, come on, you’ve known me for years”, Jon pleaded, “I would never do that to a woman.”

“Jon, you did it again in the limo when I went into the drug store. She was on the floor and you were on top of her.”

Jon stared at his best friend in sheer disbelief, his voice hoarse as he spoke softly…”and then I saw her there and did it again…but this time I fucked her. Oh Christ!”

Tico walked into the thickened atmosphere in the kitchen, looking first at Richie and then at Jon. “I just checked on her again. She’s sleeping normally now it seems. She was able to wake up enough to tell me her name.” He looked hard at Jon. “What the fuck happened, man? Did you rape her?”

“NO!” Jon shouted, “I swear to you she responded completely when I touched her. Christ, she almost fucked me off the bed!” He cringed again at how that sounded, looked at his two friends, then hung his head. “I need … I need … help.”