Aftermath

It was just a misunderstanding, words that weren't meant were passed, each of them hurting, and wanting to hurt back, that desire always followed by regret and personal condemnation. The second guessing, maybe I should have...what if I had said... crossing their minds.

They had drifted off to their separate corners, like two boxers after the last round, to wait for the decision from the judges. Each of them was licking their wounds. She was curled up in one corner of the big chair in the bedroom, her diary in her hand, the pen flying across pages at amazing speeds. He is slunk down in his recliner, the television turned up so the sound of her tears can't creep in and break his heart a bit more. It always unnerves him, the near silence of her tears, he can see the tears falling if he shuts his eyes, he can see the pain in the blue of her eyes, as she looks at him as if asking him WHY?

She had smiled at him through the veil of tears, and said, "I am sorry baby. I do love you, you know." then she had quietly gone into the bedroom. He knew to write. She knew that her words, her inconsiderate moment has caused his ire, yet, he felt responsible. His hand was crushing the remote control. He could see her in his mind shaking her head as she walked away. The words were brief, but they were potent. He wondered at the entire scene. No reason for it really, just short tempers, long days at work and it happened. Ah, but the pain lingers.

She writes about her day, the crap at the office, the news that a little boy, a relative of one of her co-workers had died in a fire, and it had rocked her. It had cut her deeply and she was still feeling the loss even though it wasn't hers. She had spent the afternoon gathering up clothing for the mother of the dead child. Her boss had asked her if she had a dress she could donate for the mother to wear to the funeral. So she dug through her things, finding clothes that she didn't, or couldn't wear since she had lost weight, and grieved for a child, a family she didn't even know.

She had been short tempered, when he called saying he was going to be late, could she hold dinner. She hadn't wanted to talk about it yet, so she had mumbled something and hung up. He had come home angry at her rudeness. She was caught unaware; her head was still with dead children. She couldn't even remember what was said.

She took her pain out on him, and he didn't know where it was coming from. She would have told him, she should have told him. It would have explained a lot. She knew he was sitting in there, staring at the television, not really understanding what had happened. She also knew she had to wait before she approached him because she badly needed a hug, and knew she would not be able to stand the rejection right now. He had to cool down and she knew he needed some space for that.

She stared at the bed they had shared, not for a long time, but long enough to know that she never wanted to share a bed with anyone else. She loved this man deeply and abidingly. He was all she ever needed, or wanted.

She went into the small bathroom off the bedroom, washed her face and blew her nose. She hated the way her face got blotchy when she cried. He said it was adorable. She shook her head at her reflection. She went into the living room; he was sitting in his chair, looking miserable. He looked up as she came into the room. He held his arms out to her, and she collapsed against his shoulder, on his lap, and cried into his shirt. He couldn't understand all that was being said, but he got the gist of it. He realized that her pain was so much more than the words that were passed. He whispered, "Baby, I am sorry. God, I am so sorry." She stopped crying after a short time; the tears just seemed to run out. He kissed the tear tracks on her cheeks, and kissed her sweet smelling hair. She turned her face and caught his mouth with hers.

It had begun as a gentle kiss, but soon deepened. She pressed her body to him, and he put his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. Their tongues danced together, lighting small fires, and creating raging flames of desire. His hands stroked her back, and finally lifted her up. He carried her to the bedroom, their lips still together. He brushed her bangs out of her eyes and kissed her red nose, and began kissing down the side of her neck. He pulled the T-shirt over her head, and cupped her braless breasts in his hands. "You are so beautiful." He leaned down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked gently, knowing that this was not one of those rough moments she liked so much. He would give her what she needed.

She shivered as his lips covered her nipples, first one then the other. His tongue raking across the sensitive skin making her moan softly, causing a minor flood between her legs. He stepped back, and she helped him get rid of his work clothes. She stepped out of her jeans and he pushed her gently on the bed. His lips crushed hers as he kneeled between her legs. He let his lips follow the line of her throat, to her breasts. His knee brushed her pussy, he could tell how wet she was already. He suppressed the smile that threatened. Her hands were in his hair, on his face, his chest. She rose up to kiss him, and then take his nipples in her mouth, she was kissing and biting his neck, shoulders and chest.

He pushed her legs apart with his knees, and grabbed her up into his arms. He held her close, made her look into his eyes he said, "This is so you know...No matter what, I love you. I need you, and I want you. Your pain is mine. Your joy is mine too." With that he slid into her, smoothly, reveling at the silky heat of her. She sighed as he entered her, the tendrils in her stomach curled up and unfurled again and again as he showed her that he meant what he had said.

He held her tight and made her see what he felt and with her arms and legs wrapped around him, he could feel that she gave back, all he gave her, again and again. The love they shared made it an even greater moment in time.

They didn't hurry, she let him stroke her slowly, gently, as long as she could, then she asked for more. "Baby, Fuck me please...please fuck me." He laughed quietly in her ear. "Isn't that what I am doing?" He pulled out, and leaned down and said, "Or do you want THIS" He said the last with a powerful thrust into her. She cried out, smiling at him, nodding her head. "Please" she begged. She pulled her hips up higher, and moved her ass just enough to make him want to fuck her the way she wanted to be fucked.

He laughed, as he slammed into her, she moaned, and without words let him know that he was doing it right. He felt her quicken around him, watched the flush blossom on her cheeks and chest. He knew that soon it would be over for him too. Her eyes lost focus, and he felt her legs and arms tense up around him. He pushed into her hard, twice more, and he felt her explode around him, holding him tight, and pulsing, forcing his orgasm, sucking his balls dry as it pulsed around him.

He stayed in her for a few moments, letting her vaginal muscles relax, so he could withdraw without hurting her. Her tremors were still there, but subsiding. He loved lying beside her, feeling the aftermath of an orgasm. She always came hard, and it had amazed him the first time. He rubbed her stomach, feeling lucky he had her.

She smiled at him, and said, "Thank you. I love you." She knew that he had given her a gift. He had forgiven her, accepted her mistakes, and he loved her. His heart was the most precious thing anyone had ever handed to her. She sometimes forgot to guard it with the care it deserved. She tucked her head onto his chest, right below his shoulder and traced her fingers about his face. "I love your lips," She said. She then went on to name all the parts of him she loved... it just so happened, she loved all of him, so it took a while.

Afterward, they got up and she fixed a quick meal that they ate on the living room floor, in front of a sitcom that was stupid, but they both enjoyed. She kept touching him, for a reminder that he was still there. He knew she loved him, and that's all he needed.