River Ch 10

I woke up late Sunday morning after a long night of wonderful lovemaking. I felt warm, safe and utterly comfortable in his arms. With a smile I thought back to the past night, reliving every moment, slowly and with pleasure. Everything from my initial feeling of being in control and bringing him pleasure to our final slow lovemaking before falling asleep in each other's arms.

And in between those two perfect memories, Johns fulfilled promise to punish my previous teasing by kissing, licking and tickling my whole body from top to bottom; with a strong emphasis on bottom. He absolutely worshipped my round butt, rubbing, massaging and finally kissing every part of each butt cheek, whispering words of adoration. Don't get me wrong, he payed homage to my hungry pussy as well and I don't know how many times he brought me to the very edge of orgasm, bringing his caresses and kisses to abrupt stops to prevent me from climaxing. In the end he almost had me crying from my desperate need for release.

When all I could do was sob "please, please, please" he flipped me over again and made me lie down on my stomach as he pushed himself inside of me. He then took a hold of my hands, I suspect to prevent me from rubbing myself to completion, and started pushing in and out with slow but strong strokes. I could feel every part of him on top of me and inside of me; I could feel the pattern of my coverlet rubbing my nipples and the texture of the pillow that I was pressing my cheek against, every sense heightened.

"I can't" I said "I can't come this way, please, please, I need..."

I thought I heard him laugh real low as he started moving faster and pushing in deeper. He let my hands go and moved his hands slowly down my back. Collecting all of the pillows he could reach, he pushed all of them under my stomach and pussy giving his thrusts a slightly different angle. I don't know if it was the changed angle and his deeper penetration or the fact that one textured pillow was rubbing me as he pushed and pushed and pushed himself into me faster and harder, but before long I came with a long, tormented cry. He kept his rhythm up and kept my climax going until I was completely spent and then he came with his own loud shout. He fell down on top of me and although he was heavy, I liked the feel of his body pressed against me, pushing me down into my soft bed.

The thoughts of our night together made me hot and needy again and I lazily squeezed one nipple and pressed my fingers against my clit. Before I could start rubbing myself I felt his arms circling my body from behind and his hand stopped mine so he would be able to let his fingers caress me instead. "Good morning" he said sleepily just before he pushed himself into me and started loving me slowly and gently. This time my orgasm came in a long, gentle wave and as it settled down, all of my feelings for John seemed to settle along with it. I loved him. I let myself get pulled back into his arms, my face pressed against his chest, and then fell asleep again, happy and in love.

An aggressively loud signal woke us up half an hour later and John threw himself out of bed to look for his phone in the heap of clothes on the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed and with an "I've been up all night having sex"-raspy voice he answered "Hello". I couldn't hear what the person he was talking to said, but he instantly straightened up, pulled a frustrated hand through his hair and said "I'll be right there". Tossing his phone on the bed he started throwing his clothes on quickly. With short sentences he explained that he had to go to Sam's grandparents, because Sam's mom was there causing problems. With a quick kiss on my cheek he left me sitting up in bed with a stunned expression on my face; an expression that quickly crumbled as I started crying. I had forgotten everything but my own happiness, I had forgotten about the mother.

I dried my tears, decided I needed some comforting words from a friend and then quickly called Mary.

"Hello, Sarah? What's wrong?" she answered. When a Sunday morning phone call causes that type of response, I guess you don't call your friends often enough.

In a fast flow of words I told her what had happened, what I was worried about and that I wanted to help, but couldn't think of one single thing I could do. Before I started repeating myself she stopped me with a commandeering voice, told me to get dressed and to wait for her on my doorstep. "I'll be right there" she said before hanging up.

I washed my face, brushed my hair and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I had just made it outside when a sleek, fast-looking, silver car pulled up. Mary jumped out of the car, pulled me in for a quick hug and then said "come on" nodding towards her car. As soon as I hit the seat, Mary pulled out with screeching tires.

"What...how... where are we going?" I asked her.

"We're going to Sam's grandparents" she answered, keeping her eyes on the road.

"What... why?" I continued.

"There's a problem that needs to be solved, and it's time for us to solve it" she answered cryptically. Before I could ask any further questions Mary's phone called. She picked it up and answered quickly with short sharp words, "yes" and "get there as soon as you can" and "I'll be there in 10 minutes".

"What?" I tried again, but Mary just shrugged, turned the music up and continued driving fast. After about eight minutes she slowed the car down and parked by a small house with a large, beautiful garden. Before stepping out of the car Mary reached into the back seat and pulled out a largish bag that said "First Aid". She gave it to me with a muttered "just in case"-comment.

As we walked up to the house we could hear a woman screaming angrily. It was hard to hear what she was saying, but she was yelling "Sam" and "money" and I actually think I heard a "help" in there somewhere too. As we came closer we could see John standing not far from the house, screeching woman, knife in her hand, standing far too close to him for my comfort. Scanning him for any injuries, I could finally take a deep breath; it looked as if he was unhurt.

Mary told me to go stand on the porch and to wait for John. Her voice said "no arguments" and I did as she said. The porch was close enough so I could hear most of what was being said, but far enough away for me to be out of harms way. Mary then walked quickly up to John and the woman.

"Hello John" Mary said with a calm voice "I'm Mary, Sarah's friend".

Surprisingly she then also turned to the woman and said "Hello Jane". How could she possibly know her name? Come to think of it, how could she possibly know where Sam's grandparents lived?

Before I was able to figure out any answers to the mysterious how-questions, Mary used the same calm voice and said "John, I would like you to go to Sarah and your son Sam now. They both need you". John looked as confused as I felt, but as he turned around and saw me standing there, he obviously decided to do as Mary said and started walking towards me.

The love in my eyes turned to dread as I saw the woman - Jane - start running after him, knife held high. Before the panicked scream that was building inside of me could reach my lips, Mary stepped in, deftly removed the knife from Janes hand and stopped her.

"I think you'll find that in this episode of the story, I'm the knife-waving crazy woman" Mary said before tossing the knife into some bushes by their side. Jane started waving her arms, this time simply using her hands to try to cause pain, but Mary brushed all of her attempts off, as if she was nothing more than a bothersome fly.

The angry woman seemed to tire soon, and when she stopped fighting, Mary stepped closer and started talking as calmly as before, but too low for me to hear what she was saying. John then came up to me and pulled me into his arms. "Sarah" he whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Leaning backwards in his arms, I started looking him over to see if he was hurt after all. He seemed to realize what I was doing because he whispered "I'm fine, I'm fine" and then hugged me close again.

Mary kept talking to Jane, who was no longer trying to fight, but seemed to be shrinking into herself, no emotions left but a deep, tired, desperate sadness. She started sobbing and then, strangely enough, let herself be pulled into Mary's arms. Mary held on to the sad shell of a woman, still whispering to her. She seemed to want an answer to something, and when Jane nodded, Mary lifted her head and gave a discrete sign, looking down towards the street.

Two darkly dressed men came walking up to the two women. When Jane saw them approach she looked scared and started shaking her head, but Mary just calmly introduced the men and continued talking to her, explaining something with that annoyingly low voice. Jane seemed strengthened by what Mary said, pulled herself up and with her back surprisingly straight she walked with the men down the garden. Mary walked with them talking to one of the men before handing him a folded paper and turning around towards us.

We had been standing, staring at what was happening with surprise on our faces. When Mary came close to us, she probably saw our gaping expressions, because she laughed softly and then said "Let's go inside and I'll tell you all about it".

As we entered the house, an elderly couple came walking towards us, obviously anxious and worried. John introduced me and Mary, and then started looking for his son, desperate to see him and hold him. "He's in the kitchen" the old woman said and started walking, leading us to him. Sam was sitting on the kitchen sofa, feet pulled up under him, hugging a cuddly toy, his face pale. As he saw his dad his face grew brighter and he threw himself at John who hugged him close.

Moments later Sam leaned over his father's shoulder and spotted me. First he seemed confused, but then he smiled at me and wriggled out of his father's arms. He came running up to me, took my hand and with fast words explained that he needed to show me something he'd built from building blocks his grandparents had just given him.

I happily went with him, certain that John would tell me everything Mary told them, later on. I was glad that I could provide some sort of comfort to both Sam and John by being there for them, if only by admiring Sam's creations, and probably by helping him build additional ones.

* * * * *

Waking up in Mary's bed, closely pressed against her, feeling her sweet smell made me smile. And that smile grew wider as I felt her moving in barely noticeable, but highly recognizable movements; this woman of mine was aroused and needed some loving. After making lazy morning love to her I pulled her into my arms and before falling asleep I realized that that was what is was all about: love. I loved her and she loved me. Smile wide on my face again, I let myself fall asleep, my love pressed against my heart, where she belonged.

It seemed like it was just moments later that I woke up to my phone ringing. I threw my tired body out of bed and quickly found the phone in the mess of clothes on the floor. My tired "Hello" started a tirade on the other side, I had to come quickly; Jane was there making trouble again. With a quick explanation to Sarah, I threw my clothes on, ran to my car and drove away, heart beating, one thought in my mind, to get to and protect Sam.

As I got to the house, Jane was standing outside screaming at her parents through the window. Realizing that Sam was safe inside the house, I took a deep, calming breath and then walked slowly towards Jane, making sure she saw me approaching. "Jane" I said "you know you can't keep doing this" I told her, trying to make my voice sound calm, although there was nothing calm about me.

She looked at me with distaste, almost loathing, and started walking towards me with angry steps. With waving arms she started yelling at me, telling me what she really thought about me - nothing I hadn't already heard before, telling me that I had taken her family from her, that she had no one and nothing. In my anger I could still feel somewhat sad for her, although it wasn't me that had taken everything from her, but the drugs. Both I and her parents and had tried to help her, to get her off the drugs, but in the end the task was too big for us. She didn't want help and she didn't need it, she'd kept saying.

Looking at the skinny, filthy, tired woman before me, I could only see small signs of the person she'd been before, the woman I had once loved. As if she could feel me pitying her, her anger and her yelling increased; repeating herself over and over again about how unfair life was, how mistreated she was, that her family didn't help her and on and on. It seemed like she was going to go on forever, but in a surge of anger, she pushed her hand into her coat and pulled out a short, sharp-looking knife.

I took a step back as she started waving her hands again, holding the knife out, still repeating the same litany, the thoughts she obviously believed was the truth. Keeping my eyes on the knife, I stood still and listened to her, knowing that trying to make her see that there might be another truth was hopeless.

We were both interrupted by a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman that walked up to us and started talking with a calm, decisive voice. She told me to go to Sarah and Sam, and when I turned towards the house I could see Sarah standing there, eyes wide and scared. As if pulled by an invisible thread I started walking towards her away from the screaming mess behind me. Sarah smiled but then suddenly looked scared again. I turned around just in time to see the woman - Sarahs friend, Mary? - removing the knife from Jane and tossing it away.

I walked slowly backwards looking at the dark-haired woman talking with calm words to Jane, telling her something about addiction now being considered a brain disease, not a personality problem, talking to her in a steady stream of words, about how she knew how it felt, that some people were always going to feel that desperate need for something, but that she also knew it could be controlled and she knew that Jane would be able to see that too.

Having now reached the porch and Sarah, I couldn't hear the low words anymore, but I don't think the words were as important as the very slow and calming voice that she was using. Some of the things she said obviously had an effect, since Jane first started trying to hit her and then stopped and fell apart, crying. I hadn't ever seen her cry when she was on her warpath against everything and everyone. Seeing Jane held by the strange woman, crying with great heaving sobs, made me feel angry at myself. Why hadn't I tried harder to help her?

Two men came walking and after being reassured by the woman, Jane walked with them towards a big, dark car that was parked in the street.

The dark-haired woman, Mary, walked towards us and with a low, husky laugh she told us to go inside and she'd tell us what had happened. With my hand in Sarah's I opened the door and was met by Fred and Ingrid, Jane's parents. They were worried, but Ingrid led us into the kitchen where I was met by a running Sam, who threw himself into my arms. He was safe and seemed mostly unharmed by what had happened. When he saw Sarah, he quickly pulled her with him, to show her his new toys and if I knew him right, to play, build and create stuff, the way they both liked to on weekdays.

With a cup of coffee each, we sat down at the table, ready to hear the story Mary had to tell. She seemed to collect her thoughts and then started talking.

"In short, what we have done is to send Jane to a very special facility that has had great results treating addiction by addressing the fundamental problems instead of treating the symptoms. Addiction is considered a brain disease, or rather a small malfunction, and people with that malfunction will have to learn how to live with it for the rest of their lives. She will go through an initial, standard detox process, followed by weeks of learning how to handle her new, clean life. She will be given tools, so she can identify when she's in the risk zone for new addictive behaviors. Because she will be an addict for the rest of her life, be it drugs, alcohol, gaming, sex, basically anything can trigger addictive behavior. She will have to be strong, but I think she has it in her."

She took a breath and then continued. "She will be given every possible help, and when she's proven free from her addiction, she will be given a new life and a new start, with a small home and job opportunities."

"How..." I started worriedly "how is this all payed for?"

"Every expense has been cleared by an organization that I have a close cooperation with" she answered. I wanted to ask her what organization, but she seemed unwilling to discuss the money issues further.

Ingrid and Fred both started crying, holding on to each other, their worries calmed by the fact that their daughter would be taken care of. Mary said her goodbyes, shook our hands and I walked her out. She gave me a wide smile, told me to take care of Sam and Sarah and jumped into her sports car. The expensive car made me think that perhaps there was no organization, but just a well-off woman's crusade against the evils of the world. I shook my head at that fancy idea and walked back into the house.

I brought Sam and Sarah to our house and we spent a wonderful afternoon playing together. In the evening, both of my loves, exhausted by a full day, fell asleep against me in our sofa. With all this love and not having to worry about Sam's mom any longer I felt a sense of calm and joy. We were going to have a wonderful life together.