Encounters with John Wayne

Diana Maitland was about to explain to John Wayne the main reason why she believed they could never be completely happy together because of the type of relationship she was looking for with a man. He had asked her if she thought a man and a woman could be happy together if they had a volatile relationship; she had taken a deep breath and then she said, "I do. But, it would have to be a relationship between two people who consider themselves totally equal to one another. If one of the people felt inferior in any way to their partner, it would be an unequal balance of power and it would only cause more problems. But, given the right two people, I think it would keep the passion in their marriage going forever! At least, that's what I've been hoping to find for myself."

He dragged on his cigarette while he listened to her as she explained the circumstances and he thought there was a grain of logic and truth to what she described, but when she ended by saying that it was the kind of relationship she wanted for herself, he frowned as he tried to figure out why she felt that way. He didn't like the concept of a volatile relationship between a man and his wife; he'd had that with Chata and it had done nothing but cause problems between them—but that may have been because of Chata's problem with alcohol. But still, he knew it wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted with Diana.

He reached down to stroke her right cheek with his left hand as he rumbled quietly, "I don't know why you feel you need that kind of relationship with a man; that's part of the reason why I'm divorcing Chata. There was a lot of volatility to our relationship—some of it good, but mostly bad, and I don't think it's the kind of relationship I want with you...I love you too much. I've only been angry with you this weekend because I don't want to let you go and you keep fighting me on that!"

He was saying exactly what she already knew. There was no way she was going to be able to convince him that she needed that kind of relationship by trying to explain it to him—she would have to show him. And the only way she could show him was to anger him to the point that he would, hopefully, lose control so much that it scared him, but where he would see that it didn't scare her—just the opposite—she knew it would turn her on and make her love him even more.

As he finished his cigarette and put it out, she crawled further up his body so she was lying on top of him and started to kiss him softly, as she said to him between kisses, "I'm really sorry...you feel that way...because if you can't...give me what I need...then I'll just have to...keep looking... elsewhere." She saw a spark of anger flare in his eyes...OK, time to go the other way. She kissed him deeper for a moment, then lifted her head to look at him as she said sexily, "Then again, you do have other things that you can give me that might make up for that," as she reached down to fondle his crotch, noting that his cock wasn't completely limp, and that the spark of anger in his eyes turned to a small flame.

Time to switch back again. She frowned as she spread her legs and sat up on him and said, "But I still don't know if I could handle it—you know how my temper is! The least little thing could set me off—something stupid like seeing you kiss another woman in a movie! But I don't exactly consider that a stupid reason! How would it make you feel to watch another man kissing me if I decided I wanted to become an actress after all?"

He frowned slightly as he looked up at her and said, "Well, I wouldn't exactly like it either, but as long as I knew it was just acting, just an illusion...I wouldn't let it bother me."

She responded provocatively, "Oh yeah? Well, you've already told me that I'm a pretty good actress...you don't think I could do a love scene with another man and make it look pretty damn real? You know my potent sexuality—you don't think I wouldn't be so attracted to another man that I might get carried away and forget it was just supposed to be an illusion...just acting?"

The spark of anger came back into his eyes as he pushed himself to sit up with her still straddling his lap. He grabbed her upper arms and said quietly in his deep, gravelly voice, "Are you trying to piss me off again?"

"No!" she exclaimed, and then continued heatedly, "Don't you think these are things that could very well come up if I stayed with you and married you? I love you, but my insecurities would cause me a lot of jealousy where your career is concerned and I would need a lot of reassurance from you...and I don't think you have a clue as to the kind of reassurance I need!"

"Then why don't you explain it to me?" he growled through his teeth.

"All right. Just remember—you asked for it!" Then she threw herself against him, knocking him backward onto the pillows again as she crushed her mouth to his, kissing him fiercely. Then she dragged her mouth from his to attack his neck and shoulders, kissing, licking and nipping him with her teeth as she worked her way down him. She paused only briefly to kiss softly on the scratch marks she had left on his chest; then she continued her frenzied assault down his body.

He was groaning deeply as she covered every inch of his torso with her lips, tongue and occasionally her teeth; he groaned a little louder when she lightly bit on his nipples with her teeth. He was vaguely aware that she seemed to be assaulting him, like she was just stimulating his body to try to get him hard again so she could fuck him—he didn't think that was such a bad thing! Especially when she got to his crotch and he thought she was going to wrap her lips and hands around him again—instead, she stopped and said something that pissed him off even further!

"See what I mean, big man? You may not be able to get it up fast enough for me when I need you! Maybe you're right—you are an old man, and I need someone who'll be able to keep up with me!"

He reached down with his right hand and grabbed a handful of her hair on the back of her head and shoved her toward his half-hard dick and growled, "I may be old, but it won't take long to get me hard if you'll just shut up and put your mouth to better use!" He couldn't believe he was treating her like this; but she was just pushing all his buttons—the right ones and the wrong ones and he was teetering between anger and desire again and it was confusing him. Especially when she looked at him with such lust on her face when he angrily grabbed her and shoved her at his dick and told her to shut up and put her mouth to better use!

Then, when she eagerly grabbed and started stroking and sucking on his dick, his angry growl turned into a growl of lust as he felt himself harden rapidly from the firm strokes of her hands on his shaft and the sucking pressure of her mouth on the head. He was fully hard in less than a minute, and he clutched her hair again and pulled her head off his dick and said, "Was that fast enough for you, little girl? Now get up here and put my dick inside you, since that's where you really want it!"

He stared at her with anger and desire as she climbed on top of him and started to slowly push herself onto his big cock, her head falling backward and her back arching as she moaned deeply. His moan echoed hers, as he, too, felt the throbs of pleasure as his thick shaft stretched her open as she slowly impaled herself upon him. When he was fully inside her, he grasped her hips to hold her still, and rumbled huskily, "Look at me, little girl," then waited for her to lift her head and open her eyes. Then he continued in his deep, sexy voice, "This is where you belong, with me, with my dick inside you, making love to you whenever possible. I know it...you know it...why won't you just admit it and say you'll stay with me?"

She shook her head no slowly and said softly, "The only thing I'll admit to is that I need your dick inside me."

His rage exploded. He released her hips and grabbed her under her arms, lifting her up and throwing her off him and sideways onto the bed on her back. Then he scrambled over to pin her down with his body, grabbing her hair to hold her still, forcing her legs apart and driving his dick into her roughly and pounding into her with hard, deep thrusts as he growled loudly and angrily at her. "Goddamn it, Diana! Why won't you marry me? If all you want is my dick, well then, here it is you little bitch! Take it!" He stopped talking for a few minutes as he continued to pound angrily into her, grunting forcefully while she groaned in pure pleasure.

The fact that she was enjoying this and it was bringing both of them to orgasm angered him even further, so he started ranting at her again through his teeth, "You've taken everything from me! My heart...my soul...so you keep taking my dick until I stop wanting you...until I stop loving you! MAKE ME... STOP...LOVING YOU! Please...!" Tears had formed in his eyes, and his last words came out as a half sobs and half groans as he came inside her and then collapsed on top of her, his body shaking slightly as he drew in ragged breaths and wept silently.

He had wanted to hurt her, the way he was hurting because she wouldn't promise to stay with him. He had wanted to see pain and fear in her eyes, to make her think that he might do something even more drastic than trying to rape her if she didn't immediately change her mind. Instead, what he had seen in her eyes was desire and love. He fucked her brutally and called her a bitch, and then he felt even worse when he couldn't stop from coming because she looked at him with love in her eyes and moaned loudly in desire as she came just before he did.

This was the first time he felt like he didn't know her or understand her, and it scared him worse than the thought of losing her. He moved his arms under her to clutch her tightly and moved down to lay his head on her chest as he felt another wave of tears fill his eyes. He'd never cried like this over a woman before and he thought he should feel foolish, but all he felt was sadness and confusion.

Her heart broke when he moved his arms up under her body to hold her tightly as he backed his hips away from hers and moved down to lay his head on her chest just above her breasts while he cried quietly. She wrapped herself around him and cried with him as she held him tightly. She knew he didn't mean what he'd said—except maybe the part about making him stop loving her. His fear of losing her made him angry, and it had helped her to demonstrate to him the kind of passion she needed from him in order to feel loved.

After a couple minutes, he was quiet; then he cleared his throat and spoke softly, "I'm so sorry, Diana. I seem to keep losing control like that with you, and now I'm starting to fear that I might hurt you. I'm beginning to see why you're so afraid that a life with me wouldn't work out. I feel...too possessive of you...I've never felt this strongly about any other woman, and I don't know how to handle it. I feel so out of control with you sometimes, and I don't know if I could live the rest of my life fearing that I could lose control because of my feelings for you. Does this make any sense to you?" he asked her worriedly.

She brought her right hand up from his back to caress his left cheek and wiped some of the moisture away, then moved her hand down to his chin to get him to lift his head so she could look into his eyes. She said softly, "Yes, it makes perfect sense—it's part of what I've been trying to make you understand about why we shouldn't stay together. Didn't you notice how turned on I was by how you treated me?"

He frowned at her in confusion and nodded yes, so she explained. "I've known since I was about 18 that I need that kind of passion and forcefulness from a man in order to feel loved. Every time you need me desperately or get jealous and angry with me and display that kind of passion, it just makes me want you and love you even more. It's not exactly healthy, I know...but I need it...and I needed you."

Tears came into her eyes as she continued, "You gave me everything I needed and more...warm tenderness, deep love, hot passion, and desperate desire. What you've given me is so far beyond everything I dreamed and fantasized about you. No one has ever, or probably will ever, be able to make me feel as loved as you have in only two days." Her voice was a hoarse whisper as the tears filled her eyes and started to spill down her cheeks.

Her voice was strained as she struggled to finish through her tears, "But, as you said, you're not the type of man who is capable of living your life in fear of losing control. But I had hoped you could handle it for just a weekend." She closed her eyes and turned her head as her body was racked by sobs.

Tears came back into his eyes as he listened to her and watched the emotion on her face as she explained this aspect of her personality that he had not understood until now. Then, in an instant, he understood why she feels the need for that kind of forceful passion in order to feel loved—because it was the opposite of rejection. She needed to feel that a man wanted and needed to possess her—body, heart and soul—which is exactly how he felt now. But he couldn't go through the rest of his life feeling like he was treating her as a possession...and she knew that.

Now he realized that she was giving up just as much of a chance for her own happiness as he felt she was taking away from him, because she knew it would cause problems for them in the long run. He also realized that she knew he had to figure that out for himself before he would understand it—her just trying to explain it to him, without his experiencing the raw emotions, would not have convinced him she was right. He'd begun to suspect something like this when he started having bouts of jealousy whenever he thought about her with another man.

He had moved to lay beside her and gathered her to him to hold her as she cried, while a few tears rolled down his cheeks as he marveled, again, at how smart and intuitive she was—and how lucky he felt to know how much she loved him—enough to let him go, even though it would break both their hearts for a while. He realized, painfully, as she must have, that in order to keep their love alive, they had to let each other go.

He also started to realize that if she does end up pregnant and makes good on her promise to marry him, that he will have finally broken her—and not in a good way. He knew if she married him, she would react in one of two ways; she would either continue to resent his career because of her jealousy, and would try to make him jealous so he would lose control so she could get what she needs from him in order to be assured of his love. Or, she would do her best to let go of her jealousy in order to make him happy and she would lose her spirit.

He thought the latter would be her most likely reaction. And, as his wife, he knew she would always love him and be faithful to him, so he would no longer feel any jealousy, which would temper his ardent passion for her—the very passion that she needs in order to feel loved. They would probably still have that magical connection of their souls, but her spark would be dimmed, and she would, most likely, become a docile, spiritless woman—she would no longer be the woman he fell in love with, and he would have only himself to blame.

But then he thought—he could live with that; he wasn't getting any younger—how long would he really be able to keep up with her sexually? Most women didn't hit the prime of their sexual drive until in their late 30's or early 40's—another 10 years or so for her—when he would be in his late 50's to early 60's! If her potent sexuality could be tempered now, then maybe she wouldn't kill him by the time he was 60 years old!

Now he felt confused again; he fell in love with her partly because of her spark of life and her raw sexuality and he was willing to take those away from her in order to keep her with him—how unfair would that be to her...and to him? Maybe she's been right all along...no matter how compatible they seem, their personalities just aren't suited for a stable, long-term relationship.

In this case of soul mates, their souls ended up on the same side of a coin, and not on the opposite sides so they would balance each other. She could not be the yin to his yang, nor he to her, if either of them had to give up something of themselves in order to be together...now he understood what she's been trying to tell him all along.

She had stopped crying while he thought all of this through, and when she stopped sniffling, she looked up at him with deep sadness in her eyes and said softly, "Now do you understand what I've been trying to tell you about why it would be so hard for us to share a life together?" He looked at her with the same sadness in his eyes as he nodded yes. The sadness left her eyes and she looked more philosophical as she said, "I'm still leaving this up to God or fate—if I'm pregnant, I'll marry you and I'll be the best wife I can be for you, and I'll cherish our life together and our children. And if I'm not, then I'll have the most wonderful memories of a lifetime's worth of love with the man of my dreams."

He brought his left hand up to her face and wiped away the remnants of her tears as he said huskily, "I do believe God has a plan, and however this turns out, it will be Him telling us if we were meant to be together. And if it turns out that we weren't, then you will always be the only woman of my dreams who showed me how deep, passionate and crazy love can be—I'll always cherish my memories of your love for me."

They wrapped themselves around each other and kissed passionately for a few minutes. As they slowly ended, they noticed that the sun was getting lower in the sky; they glanced at the clock and it was about quarter to six—they'd been at it for almost a couple hours now. They were starting to get a little hungry, so they decided to take a break and go downstairs for a snack. She slipped the tee shirt back on and he put on just his shorts, and they went down to the kitchen to find some food.

They still had part of the plate of cheese and fruit and some chicken salad that was leftover from their lunch yesterday, so they decided to finish that. Then he spotted a bottle of champagne in the icebox and decided that they should celebrate having come to an understanding. She was staring out the kitchen window watching the sun's rays on the rocks outside and commented that it looked like it was going to be another beautiful sunset, and he had another idea of something special they could do.

He picked up the plate of food with utensils in one hand, the bottle of champagne and a couple stemmed flutes in his other hand and told her to follow him. He headed out to the main room and he told her to get the blanket off the couch that they had used on the beach yesterday—Ward must've pulled it out of the dryer and folded it and put it back on the couch while they were gone. Then he went to the patio doors and told her to open it for them and when they went out, she closed it again and followed him over to the path that went up the hill where they could watch the sunset.

When they got to the top of the hill, they found a nice flat area on some grass in front of a large rock, so she spread the blanket out and they sat down to eat their snack and drink some of the champagne while they watched the sun lowering toward the horizon. They were sitting leaning against the rock after they finished eating, with his right arm around her shoulders and they were sipping champagne. As the sun was about to touch the water again, they looked at each other and smiled softly, remembering that he had made a hissing sound as they'd watched it touch the water just yesterday evening...it seemed like a lifetime ago to them already...