A Little Off Balance

Cal had four children and a passionless marriage with a manic depressive wife. Alana had five children and a passionless marriage with a workaholic husband with a penchant for younger ladies. They met four years ago of all places in the supermarket. It was one of those things where the lines were an hour or so long, and they just fell to chatting. Sure, nothing personal as failing marriages. Luck would have it, they bumped into each other at a diner, each in for a quick lunch. Her five darling wee ones were in tow, and Cal made the comment about having four wee ones himself. They quickly became fast, personal friends from there.

So it was they became each other's support group in a quest for happiness. Both stubbornly refused to leave their marriages, as much for the children as for a faith in it working out. Love truly grew between them, the nine children getting along so well on the Saturday play dates, strengthening their bond. Now, this wasn't the kind of Love that demands a passionate affair. It was a cozy kind of Love between best of friends.

Not that sex wasn't on their minds. "Would you ever want to have sex with a guy like me?" Cal once asked off-handedly.

"The thought crossed my mind," was her response. And that was as far as that was vocalized.

Instinctively they both knew they were at least mildly attracted to each other. He for her long red hair, her height, and her balanced breasts (he Was a breast man, after all). She adored his soft blue eyes and gentle smile, and the way he stood so tall and proud despite the obvious sadness.

Honestly, readers, you have to realize these two didn't dream of going all the way with each other. It just wasn't in their image of reality. After all, he was a Leo, she a Scorpio. And if you don't know how stubborn these Sun Signs can be, how resilient to change, you should find out. They were blindly committed to sticking it out, and it would take a lot to jar them from that way of looking at things. Let me say that again in big letters. It Would Take A Lot!!!

And then Cal lost his four children and his wife. Cal was at work. The rest of his clan were in a car. The driver of the Bormingway Electric Repair van was drunk. Accident's happen. Tragedies strike. And it left Cal a little off balance.

He grieved for his wife, and tormented at the loss of his children. The children were his life, the reason for his being. He worked so hard to bequeath upon those children roots and wings. And for what? Nothing, so it would seem. Life could play cruel jokes.

Cal suffered the funeral proceedings in proud silence. He hid away in his house. Not answering the phone, nor coming to the door when knocked upon. He truly began to fade away from reality. He simply was not coping well.

Then in the pouring rain on a Wednesday night he walked the forty minutes to Alana's house, on a day her husband habitually stayed at the office over night. "My God, Cal. Come in." She embraced him, taking his coat. "I've been worried sick about you. Are you all right?"

"No."

"Stupid question. I'm sorry." She hung his coat in the closet as little Michael came running headlong into Cal. "Uncle Cal!!" the little one cried out. Cal's face lit up and he immediately fell to playing with the five children. The pain and agony of the last week shed from his face for the moment, and when the little ones went off to bed, and he shared a beer with Alana, he seemed a little more relaxed.

"You're kids are great," he proclaimed. Alana was silent, sensing he was going to go on. "I'm so happy now I didn't have the operation my wife wanted after our fourth." Cal's voice wavered a little. "I have to have more children, and now I'll be able to do that."

"Mmm, not me. Hubby got himself the operation and that's the end."

Cal chuckled suddenly. "Can you imagine what would have happened had we wound up together?"

"We would have had nine rugrats," Alana joked.

And Cal became very silent, and Alana sensed she horribly mis-stepped. Conversation lightened up, but the mood stayed somber, and finally Cal proclaimed it was time to go. "I'll get your coat," Alana said, rising to do so.

Cal stood behind her as she opened the closet door, and he remarked at how large the closet was. What Cal did next he was never sure if it was pre-meditated or just sort of off the cuff. The decision seemed in the moment, but the cord he used was already in his pocket.

He pushed her into the closet, wrapping his arms around her, grabbing her breasts, smelling her long long hair. She had to put her hands against the closet wall to steady herself. Immediately her heart went out to Cal, understanding all that he had gone through. She turned around in his grasp and looked into his deep sad eyes. "Cal, I'm so sorry."

Cal seemed to ignore her as he looked her body up and down in predator fashion, his hands kneading her breasts. She allowed it, even enjoyed it, but her mind was far from sex. She put her hands over his and began to push him away. "Cal, baby. I wish I could take your pain. But this isn't the way."

She didn't notice him reach into his pocket and pull out the cord. She didn't even see the cord when he lifted her hands above her head and he began to kiss her. She thought how he was a good kisser, despite the way his lips trembled nervously. Again, her heart went out to him. "Cal," she said through the kisses, "This isn't the way." And she tried to push him away, but by then Cal had her bound to two hooks by the cord in a deft display of "ropemanship".

Alana pulled her head away, as her stomach suddenly lurched with fear. "Cal, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, and started to unbutton her blouse. "Cal. Stop." He didn't. More afraid now, and confused, Alana pulled away, lurching as much as the ropes would allow. And Cal suddenly grabbed her waist and pushed her hard into the closet wall. Proud, Alana swallowed the cry that would have come from her, not bowing to his stern gaze he burned into her. Cal went back to the buttons, finally opening her shirt completely, revealing a sheer black brassiere. He gazed at her long and hard, noting her body tense and unsure. He imagined she wanted this, but in truth he wasn't sure. He didn't care.

He moved to unbutton her jeans, and began to pull them down, but she pressed her thighs tight together to impede him. He tugged harder and she didn't relent. He rose up suddenly and invaded her mouth with his tongue and pulled away as suddenly. "Don't you dare scream. You don't want to wake the kids." And he left the closet, slamming the door, shutting her in. Alone. She whimpered.

She didn't know how long she was in there alone with her tears when he finally opened the door again, snipping scissors in his hands meaningfully. "Oh my God, Cal ..." she started.

"Hush." he commanded. And he knelt and put the scissors at her pant sleeves and began to cut them off of her. When he had finished, he gazed longingly at the sheer black panties, hanging the scissors on another hook. Then he kissed her through the panties. And she liked it.

She was so relieved he came back. Her mind desperately tried to understand the hurt going through him. But he was magic with that tongue, and she began to twitch excitedly. She had never cheated on her husband, and she wasn't sure if this was cheating or not. After all, she wasn't consenting. She let out a soft moan ... consenting in her secret mind. For a long while he kneeled before her and kissed through the panties. Finally he pulled them down with no problem from Alana who opened herself wider for him. Her arms were getting tired, but she lost herself in his kissing. He stroked his tongue along her folds, teasing her clit, loving the way she squirmed, the way she pushed her body down to feel more of his tongue.

Finally he stood up, dashing his clothes away. He kissed her passionately, his strong hands holding her, caressing her. And he pulled away, turning her around. She gasped as the ropes twisted and thusly tightened around her wrists. Cal was still for a moment, entranced by her long red hair spilling over her shoulder blades, loving the supple lines of her back.

Feeling impossibly hard, he positioned his cock and thrust into her, both of them gasping. "Yessss," Alana hissed, consenting. In her mind, now, this wasn't rape. This was a game. A game she never would have thought she would enjoy. But she loved it. "Goddd, Cal. Why did we wait? Just don't ... mmm .... just don't finish in me."

Cal didn't answer, thrusting deeper into her, holding her tightly. What the hell was he doing? He wasn't sure. She began to respond, moving against him with greater urgency. "Cal .... oh god, Cal. Why have we waited? Yessss. I'm going to ... oh, baby, don't stop." She moved quicker and quicker, pushing into him as well as she could while bound. She was lightheaded, moving with urgency.

Cal suddenly grabbed her hair, her beautiful red hair, and yanked back on it hard. "Don't. You. Dare." His voice was cold and commanding. Primal. "Don't you dare come until I tell you to."

Alana stopped. His hard cock was still in her. Suddenly this wasn't a game she liked. Suddenly she felt violated. Confused. Torn. She loved this man, her heart went out to him. But she was afraid.

"You need to get something straight, Alana. You are mine now. I own you." What was he talking about, he wondered. He didn't know. He wasn't sure who he was. But he felt the hurt pouring out of him, and he couldn't stop it. "In fact I think it's time to give you a little memento so you know you are mine." And he grabbed the scissors and hacked at her hair, shearing it to below the ears on all sides. His shaft still pulsed angrily within her. "God. Look at this hair. It's ugly this way. Sorry, baby, I'm just not good at this. Have it fixed tomorrow."

It's funny the things that pop into your mind, sometimes. Because Alana coolly remembered thinking, "I can have my friend, Sara, style it tomorrow."

"You know what turns me on, Alana?" He began to thrust ever so slowly within her. "I love seeing you lose control. I love seeing you want something you don't really want. I loved when you nearly finished."

Alana was far from turned on, now. She wanted his cock Out of her. She wanted this ordeal over. She wanted it to be a dream. "You know what else turns me on? Making you mine." He kissed her hair in punctuation of this remark. Still he thrust into her. "I'm going to make you mine, Alana. I'm going to give you my baby."

Alana gasped in surprise. Cal pulled out from her, quickly untied the cord from the hook and pulled her by the rope out of the closet, slinging her onto the couch.

"Cal, don't. Think this through. How will I deal with my husband? You're hurt. Please don't go through with this. God, please."

He loomed over her, pushed her down and easily, so easily slid insider her again. He thrust with such intense purpose, his entire body tensed. Alana tried to find a way to get out of this. Wondered again and again how she had got here. Was it her fault? She wasn't sure. He felt his body quicken against her, and she knew the penultimate moment was nearly there. Her body was ripe, her life was about to be changed forever. And then he said something that left her breathless.

"Please love me," he said softly, not stopping in his rhythm. "Please, Alana. We are about to make life, and we owe it to our child to Love it always, even here at the beginning by loving each other. Please love me."

So help her, she did love him. Her heart went out to him. She longed for another way. She wished things were not so ... wrong. But she loved him and wanted the situation to be different, to take his hurt away. But Love is Love. And in that moment, as she focused on that Love, her body responded quickly to him, and she rushed towards orgasm. Suddenly she cried out, washing over him as he spilled his seed deep with her womb, filling her in a way she had not been filled in so long.

He collapsed on her and they kissed. Neither was really very sure of what was going on at that point. Or what to say. Or what to do. But they went to her bed, and there he embraced her from behind. He entered her again and they made love slowly before falling asleep.

Cal opened his eyes and sleepily looked at the clock. He knew where he was. He remembered everything. "Shit." he whispered.

He realized it was a little after ten. "Shit." he whispered again. Alana's husband should be home already. But the house was silent. Where were the kids? Alana walked in just then, wearing a terry cloth bath robe. Her hair was styled and trimmed, and sexy as sin.

He sat up. Or tried to. Just then he realized he was bound. Alana held up her hand, brandishing a kitchen knife. Cal found himself completely aroused. And scared out of his mind.