Author's Notes:
This is the second part of "Can I See You?" only told from Stella's perspective.
As before, this is not a BTB or RAAC story. If that's your thing, this probably isn't for you.
Trigger warning: this story contains scenes involving domestic violence/sexual assault.
This is Episode 4 of my Hollywood Tales series - the Series is still "Pending Moderation." Sorry.
***
Alone in the bathroom, Stella slipped on a cotton thong, lilac-colored silk shorts, and the matching silk camisole. She gathered up her dress, bra, and underwear off the floor, then looked in the mirror. She breathed deeply, hoping it would slow her rapidly pounding heart, as she looked at herself in the mirror.
She didn't recognize the woman in the reflection, she thought. The woman staring back at her was a cheater. A cheater hiding out in the bathroom while her unsuspecting husband lay in bed.
She was afraid to leave the safety of the bathroom because she knew what awaited her. David, her husband, would want to have sex.
They'd been married less than two weeks, and she had put him off for two nights, claiming she had a headache. And that didn't account for three nights ago, when she came home late after he was already asleep. The was the night she slept with Trent, her ex who she realized she hadn't gotten over. She told David she was out with her girlfriends that night.
The guilt she felt from sleeping with Trent weighed heavily on her. David's eyes seemed to see through her, unravelling her lies and piercing into the truth of what she had done. She felt like every word she spoke, and every move she made, gave her away--subconscious tells she gave off due to the shame she felt from cheating on her husband of less than two weeks.
David wasn't a bad man. He treated her well. He still had a handsome face despite the deep lines on his forehead and around his eyes, and his hair--more gray than black--gave him a distinguished look. And he took care of her financial needs during a time when she needed help, and even afterwards. After going for so long with nothing, and constantly worried about finances, David had provided her with stability and security. A home, a car, clothes; everything she needed, he provided. Except for one thing.
She wasn't passionate about David. Not like she was for Trent when things were good. In fact, it wasn't even close. David was more than twenty years older than her. Physically, he had gone a little soft as he approached fifty years old, so he didn't light her fire in that department. The age difference also meant that they had different interests and quickly ran out of things to talk about. And he didn't want any more children; he had a family with his ex-wife.
For too long Stella had been in a fog, ignoring the negatives in her relationship with David because he provided her with the security for her to stay numb. That all changed three nights ago. Her experience with Trent had woken her up, clearing the fog.
With her newfound clarity, Stella faced a dilemma. Whether to choose a life of stability with the man she committed herself to mere days ago. Or throw it all away on the chance that she could rediscover what she and Trent once had.
"Stella? You coming to bed?" She heard David shout from the bedroom, shaking her from her thoughts.
"Yeah, be right out," she shouted back. She took a final look in the mirror, sighed, then left the bathroom.
She saw David lying in bed under the covers, propped up on an elbow and watching her. Though he was mostly covered by the bedding, she could tell by his bare arms and shoulders that he was not wearing a shirt. He had a look in his eyes that she recognized. Desire.
She silently tossed her worn clothes in the hamper, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed. She immediately turned to her side, facing away from David. She hoped he would take that as a sign that she wasn't in the mood.
She saw the wall in front of her light up softly, suggesting David had turned on the lamp on his nightstand. It seemed he didn't take the hint.
She felt his hand on her hip before it slid to her stomach, then under the waistband of her shorts and panties. She felt his finger probe around her nether lips, unable to access her sex due to her lack of lubrication and closed legs. He was neither rough, nor gentle. More like, impatient.
She felt him press his body against her back, his erection nestling between her cheeks, as he lifted her leg to gain greater access to her sex. She felt a lump in her throat as the guilt over her encounter with Trent hit her once again.
"I'm kinda tired," she complained quietly, hoping that would be enough to get him to drop the matter.
"Aw, come on, Stella," he replied, irritated. "We haven't had sex in three nights. Please, I'll be quick."
The shame of sleeping with Trent washed over her again, and she convinced herself that she owed it to David to give him what he wanted. She married him, after all. Plus, what kind of newlywed woman would turn down sex with her husband, she asked herself.
"Fine," she relented.
She felt his lips on the back of her neck and caught a strong whiff of the Scotch he liked to drink with dinner. His fingers probed into her entrance and her body responded to the stimulation. Soon, he had gathered her juices on his fingers and spread them around her sex and on her clit. She panted softly as he alternated between circling her button and entering her tunnel.
He rolled her onto her back, then pulled her shorts and panties down her long legs, before tossing them on the floor. As he moved from her feet back toward her head, she realized he was already naked. Seeing his graying body hair, which coated his slightly saggy chest and pudgy gut, she couldn't help but compare her husband to Trent, whose lean, runner's physique was still hard and youthful.
David pushed up her camisole above her breasts, then left the garment where it laid so he could squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples. Still hoping this would be over soon, Stella pulled her top the rest of the way over her head as he sucked on one nipple while rolling the other in his fingers.
His attention to her breasts didn't last long before he was positioning himself at her entrance. She felt the spongy head of his organ rubbing up and down her channel before he pushed forward. She stared at the ceiling as her husband grunted and struggled to enter her, an obstacle created by her lack of arousal, not the size of his manhood.
If the past was prologue, this would be over quickly. He would get what he wanted, and her guilt would be assuaged temporarily.
As if reading her mind, David said, "I made sure to drink plenty tonight, so I'm desensitized. Then I took one of my little blue pills, so I don't get whisky dick." Then he added with a laugh, "Gotta take care of my sexy young wife."
She gasped softly as he finally entered her fully, his weight pressing down upon her. Thankfully, David wasn't much of a kisser; the stench of his sour breath in her mouth would have made her sick. Instead, he buried his face in her neck, kneading one of her breasts while he rutted into her. She closed her eyes and let him plow away.
After a few minutes of her lying like a dead fish, occasionally grunting softly, David broke the silence.
"You like getting fucked?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "To spread these long legs of yours for a cock?"
Stella was surprised by David's crudeness. He'd never been vocal during sex before beyond the typical two-word expressions of pleasure that typically accompanied sex. She wrote it off as him just being drunk more than usual.
