John Francis

Upon Jon’s return after saying goodnight to Romeo and Jake, he and Amanda gathered their coats and with back slaps, handshakes, and kisses for the ladies, they said goodnight to the others. Richie had driven there with them and Jon agreeably turned over the car keys as he knew his friend had much less to drink that he did.

Settling herself in the back seat as Richie drove and Jon rode shotgun, her eyes inadvertently met Richie’s in the rearview mirror and both made wide eyes at escaping the escalating tension in the house. Jon was quiet for a few minutes, then surprised them both by letting out a string of cuss words.

“Dammit! My mother is really pissing me off!” He ended his rant, then started laughing.

“Sorry! Just had to get that out!” They laughed with him, then all three started with deep belly laughs as each one’s laughter fed on the other. Small chuckles continued throughout the short drive to Jon’s house. Arriving at the top of the driveway by the front door, Richie informed them he had planned on heading to his mother’s that night. Bidding the two goodnight, he got into his car and was off with a wave.

Jon and Amanda entered the quiet house, knowing they were alone as Linda had weekends off. Shedding his jacket and loosening his tie to remove it, Jon then helped Amanda with her coat and both gratefully slipped off their shoes. Moving to the bar in the dining room, Jon poured himself another drink and brought one for Amanda. Starting a fire, they finally settled themselves on the couch, relaxing for the first time that day.

Sitting quietly, Amanda’s hand in his, Jon allowed his thoughts to wander. Talking with Richie had helped somewhat, but he still had an emotional storm swirling through him. I know we made the right decision, I know it. What the hell is wrong with me? She’s gone, really gone now. How did this end up happening? We were supposed to last. We were supposed to beat the odds. What a joke. What a fuckin’ failure. He sat silently sipping his drink, the last several hours catching up with him rapidly. As if it had been a vulture circling, waiting for the right moment to land and devour, the alcohol he had been indulging in most of the day, that he still continued to drink, hit, and hit hard.

Amanda was sitting quietly next to Jon, her hand held by his, as he sat sipping yet another straight Jack. He wasn’t talking and seemed to be lost in thought. She had no real idea where his mind was taking him tonight, but was willing for the moment to simply be there with him as he worked through whatever he was thinking. Her mind kept returning to Jon’s mother. The situation was getting worse and she felt that so far their encounters had only been the tip of the iceberg to come. Her thoughts were so deep it took her a moment to realize that Jon had turned to her on the couch.

“Hey baby…” he whispered to her, the softness of his voice not hiding the sudden apparent slurring of his words. He captured her mouth with his and she could taste the drink and again caught a whiff of smoke on his breath. His kiss deepened and his hand moved to her breasts, his touch arousing in his mind, but a bit rough in reality. She grasped his hand in hers, gentling his touch, a movement that he took as encouragement. He slid his hand under her shirt, quickly unclasping her bra and even more swiftly undressing her. His eyes devoured her near nakedness and darkened as passion swelled.

Amanda felt an urgency in Jon tonight and answered him with all the love in her heart. She removed his shirt, lingering over the strong muscles that always tempted her. Brushing her fingers lightly across the heavy fur of his chest, her fingernails teased as they moved, drawing a low moan from Jon’s throat. Stopping for another swallow of his drink, he began kissing her again, long, slow, lingering kisses that soon had her breathing shallow into small gasps as she felt herself responding more and more to his need.

A few minutes later had them both unclothed, warm soft skin against warmer fur-covered muscle. He returned his attentions to her breasts, suckling and nuzzling their rising softness. Laying her back on the couch, Jon shifted his weight half atop her, pressing himself against her. It was that contact that brought Amanda a little out of her passion into a more aware sense of touch. For the first time the seemingly ever-present hardness that always accompanied Jon’s intentions was not present. She continued her touches, sure this was temporary, however, it soon became evident that this was one of the moments that can happen to men, no matter what their mind wanted.

Jon was becoming aware of his lack of response and it caused him to intensify his efforts at consummation. He touched, licked, rubbed, stroked, and finally resorted to taking himself in hand to rub against her warmth. Nothing worked and he felt panic replace passion. Sweat broke out over his body as he struggled to finish what he had started. He could not look at Amanda, shame at his body’s failure overcoming his common sense. Finally pushing himself off her, he jumped up, swaying a bit more than he knew, and swiftly pulled on his pants. He drained his drink and walked rather unsteadily toward the bar, filling his glass yet again.

Amanda sat up, throwing on Jon’s shirt as she crossed the room to where he was standing, leaning on the bar. She placed her hand softly on his shoulder, wincing as she felt him stiffen at her touch.

“Jon…” she began, wanting to reassure him, “…don’t…” He swiftly turned then, a harsh expression on his face.

“No…just stop…don’t talk…” He spat out, words now deeply slurred.

“Please, don’t drink anymore. Please!” She asked him, worry evident in her tone and the expression on her face.

In answer, he looked her straight in the eye and tossed back the drink in a single large gulp, immediately turning to pour himself another.

She stepped back from him, but refused to back down.

“Why won’t you talk to me? You think this is the first time I’ve seen a man drink too much and not be able to finish what he started? Do you think I don’t have an idea of what you might have been feeling today?” Her voice remained calm, but the words hammered into his tortured brain.

Whirling to face her, almost stumbling now, icy eyes met hers and he sneered, more angry at himself than anything.

“You think you know so much? You think a few months gives you my life story? I’ve given you everything! What more do you want?” His voice ended on a drunken plea.

A gasp allowed a small glimpse of the anger and hurt that were mixed inside Amanda as she drew back from him as his words felt like a blow.

Standing with her hands on her hips, Amanda narrowed her eyes and spoke strongly and clearly to get through to this impossible man.

“What do I want? I want someone who isn’t threatened to need someone. I want a man who cares enough to let me in. My god, you can be such an arrogant ass, Jon! What do I want? The only thing I’ve ever wanted from you. Just the man. I think you’re the one who doesn’t know me at all!”

Whirling away from the open-mouthed staring man in front of her, she gathered her clothes up from the couch and without another look in his direction walked directly to the stairs and up to the bedroom.

~~~

Amanda threw down her clothes in disgust. He’s so goddam stubborn! Every time we take one step forward, he throws up some new wall! She took off his dress shirt and threw on a t-shirt, brushing her teeth and using the bathroom, and then nearly stomped to the bed. She figured he would be too drunk to even make it upstairs tonight and at this moment she thought a night on the couch might do him some good. The long exhausting day finally caught up with her and after tossing and turning, she slipped into a light sleep.

Jon hadn’t moved during the entire time Amanda had been gathering her clothes and walking up the stairs. He had rarely seen her temper, but it felt as if he had been slapped with her angry words. Finally stirring from his stunned position at the bar, he rambled over to the couch, plopping himself down angrily on the soft leather. He indulged himself then in something he seldom did - self-pity. What the hell does she want from me? Why do women always want you to spill your guts to them? What does she mean I don’t know her? He sprawled on the couch, sipping his drink, angry at the world at this moment. Finally setting the empty glass on the table, he slipped into sleep, hardly aware when it crept up on him.

A few hours later, bladder pressure had a still boozy Jon getting up rather urgently from the couch to find the bathroom. Sleeping for a few hours had started to purge the liquor from his system, but not enough for him to remember why the hell he was sleeping on the couch. He moved upstairs after using a bathroom and entered his bedroom. His mouth felt in bad need of a toothbrush and that was the only thing that stopped him from immediately falling into bed.

Amanda woke as Jon entered the bedroom. He was not quiet, but it was easy to see it was not lack of consideration, but lack of coordination, that was causing the noise. She heard him brushing his teeth and then the light went out and he moved to the bed. The bed dipped as his weight hit it and he began to stretch out. Amanda had been lying more to the middle of the bed and she tipped toward Jon as he settled himself. He felt her softness against him and he turned to her, kissing her mouth, making love to it with a leisurely slowness that ignited fires in them both.

Through many years of marriage, Amanda knew that a man sometimes needed the intimacy of sex before they could allow themselves the even deeper intimacy of opening their hearts and minds. She welcomed his embrace, her hands encouraging him to explore her, to take what he needed, letting him know in every way she could that she wanted him. She didn’t need to speak and apparently he didn’t either as the gasp, moans, purrs, and growls that escaped them both heightened as their arousal rose.

Jon felt himself harden and he knew there would be no failure of consummation this time. He touched the woman underneath him more intimately, assuring her complete readiness, and then he plunged himself into her warmth. The fully erect shaft that entered her caused a gasp to fly from Amanda’s throat as Jon buried himself again and again inside her. She could still smell the alcohol on his breath, but apparently the few hours of sleep had done enough to overcome the debilitating effects it had caused. He shifted her hips suddenly and the rise in her pelvis caused an almost immediate orgasm to overtake her. She clung to him, low moans and tightening muscles confirming her peak.

The room was completely dark and sight was useless as Jon moved again inside her. Sensation was over-riding thought and he was lost in the sheer bliss of his approaching orgasm. Nails dug into his back, legs brushed against his ass, and propped up on his strong arms, he drove himself harder against the welcoming warmth. He felt himself losing control as his body took over. The force of his spending arched his back, thrusting him inside her just that little bit further. Unbidden words flew from his mouth as pleasure poured through him.