Chances Fortune

Talia's arm and shoulder were now sore after Chance had twisted it up behind her back and used that same arm as an anchor point for hammering home his assault on her vagina. As Chance fumed a small amount of his ejaculate dribbled from the opening, trickled down over her clit and dripped onto the floor. That small motion caught his attention briefly. She was still on her stomach, rear end exposed. His flaccid cock twitched reminding him that if he continued looking upon her nakedness, her vulnerability it would not be long before being ready to invade her again. He averted his gaze and attempted to not think about rage-fucking her one more time.

Talia winced and groaned as she gingerly moved her arm back to her side. It did not feel dislocated, just hyper-extended so there shouldn't be more than a day or two of discomfort. She raised her torso up from the bed and rubbed the cheek he had slapped. The effort dislodged the beginning of a scab where his ring had scraped her from the strike before that. Her face felt tenderized and puffy on that side. She assumed it was starting to bruise.

Chance was livid that Talia had laughed off his threat to call the police and have her removed from his house. He decided that it was his only resort at this point. She had affected his rationality each time he had had contact with her. If rage-fucking hadn't prompted her exit, maybe being arrested for trespass would do the trick. Crossing to the other side of the room, he picked up his cell phone and unlocked it. He brought up the dialer on screen and started entering 911.

In that same maddeningly calm voice she had used when she laughed of his threat, she asked him, "Shall I tell you how making that call will go for you husband?"

"Shut up!" Chance spat at her. "We are not married!"

"Married, consummated, and now pregnant," she informed.

"You can't know that," as disbelief clouded his face.

"I know my body much more intimately than you now know it Chance." Half a grin flitted across her lips when his cock twitched again. "Dispatch will treat your call as a domestic disturbance," she continued. "The police will believe me and you might spend the night in jail." She rose unsteadily, and he pressed the send icon on his phone. "I'll wait in the study, okay?"

Chance was tempted to hang up, follow her and physically throw her from the house, but the call was already being answered and he figured a hang up would have a patrol unit out to the house anyway. He gave them his address and told them that a crazy woman had trespassed and insisted that she was his wife. No, she was not threatening or assaulting him; she was just refusing to leave. He did not believe his life was in danger, he just wanted her arrested and out of the house. When the call was finished, he went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Next, he found some sweat pants to pull on. He waited in the bedroom since he did not want to look at Talia. He believed she might provoke him again and he wanted to be calm when the police arrived. The security app on his phone alerted him to the motion sensors in front of the house. The camera view of the street showed 2 patrol cars with lights flashing. From one car a female officer exited, male from the other. Walking toward the front door, Chance noticed that they were both well-muscled and had tattoo sleeves. He walked out of the bedroom then to go meet them at the door.

Talia was in the chair that she had once had in her studio. Knees up, arms crossed on top of them, forehead on her crossed arms and napping when Chance opened the door to the police officers. The female; Officer Garcia was standing in front with Officer Brooks behind. It was Brooks that spoke first, "We're investigating a call about a possible trespass. May we come in?"

Chance was moving aside so they could enter. Talia raised her head, bruised and scraped face plainly evident to Garcia. Officer Garcia had seen at least three similar scenes so far this week. Her blood was a low boil. The typical chain of events for a domestic disturbance played out in her mind. Some bastard would go out, get stinking drunk, come home to wife or girlfriend or whatever, fuck her like he was God's gift to women, then beat her for refusing to suck his dick or let him fuck her ass, after which he'd call the police to try to get them to punish the poor girl who would invariably either say it was her fault, or that it was an accident. Garcia shoved Chance out of the way as she stormed past him. She shined her hand torch light at Talia's face, "Ma'am, are you okay?" She cataloged all she saw; the scraped cheek which was also swollen and starting to turn purple. As Garcia knelt before her, she also noticed that Talia only had a pajama top on, smelled of having had sex, and also had bruising from fingers on her neck. One more tick mark on the list of typical domestic disturbance red flags and she was going to bust a head, Chance's head.

Talia looked at Officer Garcia's face painted with concern. She replied, "I'm fine officer, this was just an accident." Garcia's concern metamorphosed to bright anger and her hand grasped the handle of her truncheon, shifting it so to be ready to deploy it for use. Talia touched Garcia's elbow and gave her a small friendly smile. The white heat pent up in Garcia's body then drained as she sensed that Talia was not afraid if the man and she did not seem to be trying to hide any abuse.

Chance and Talia started speaking at the same time. He insisted that they should arrest her for trespass as this was his house and she did not belong here. Talia paused to let him finish his demands.

"Justice of the Peace Frank Rafferty just married us earlier today. This is our first night together. My husband was startled when I got into bed with him for the first time. He accidently struck me."

Chance seethed and started to advance in Talia's direction when Officer Brooks pushed him back against the door. "Simmer down there fellow. I smell alcohol on your breath. Just settle down before we take you to sleep it off in the drunk-tank."

Talia handed Garcia a post-it note with a phone number written on it. "Call him, Frank Rafferty, and he will verify that he married us this afternoon around 4:30."

Chance growled loudly. "Get that lying Bitch out of my house!"

Instead of Chance's command being followed, he was spun around by Brooks who shoved him to the door and yelled, "Assume the position! Give me your hand... Give me your hand..." before wrestling Chance's arm above his head and pinning it to the back of his neck and his forehead to the door. He started patting Chance down. After the pat down was finished Chance was cuffed and taken to a patrol car protesting the whole way.

Officer Garcia turned to Talia. "Okay dear, it seems like your husband was quite drunk. We'll be taking him to lock up for a bit. Standard procedure is to ask you if you want to press charges for..." and she pointed to Talia's face, "for the battery as evidenced on your face. Even if you do not wish to press charges, I still need to make a report for the call. Do you understand?"

"Yes officer, I understand. No, I do not want to press charges."

Garcia accepted Talia's response. "Your husband will be sleeping it off in lock up tonight. You can collect him in the morning. If it was me, I'd leave is ass there all week." She looked at the post-it note with the phone number, decided that Talia was on the level and that she would add the note to the report but not bother following up on it tonight. Her instinct was to trust Talia. "Can I get your name for the report? If you've got ID, that would be appreciated also."

"Do you want me to retrieve it, or do you want to come with me?"

"Either way."

"Okay," Talia got up from the chair and walked to the bedroom and brought her wallet back to Officer Garcia and pulled out her driving license.

"Talia... Sofka? Interesting name... don't believe I've heard of it before."

"It's Slavic in origin, but my mother and my grandmother were both born in this city. I run the Madame Talia Fortune Teller studio on the northeast side of town."

"Hunh... but you didn't see that coming huh?" she joked pointing to Talia's damaged cheek.

Talia chuckled, "I kind of did... but sometimes it's better to face the music than avoid it and get sucker punched later when you don't expect it."

Garcia looked at her a moment, unsure how to respond to that, then copied the information from the driving license. She also made a notation that the address from the license was a prior address and that the address of the disturbance was the address of the husband. Handing the license back to Talia she added, "Okay, I'm finished here. Make sure you lock up after I leave. Try to have a good rest of your night."

"I will. Thank you Officer Alana Garcia." It wasn't until she was back in the patrol car that Garcia remembered she didn't mention her first name to Talia. It seemed kind of freaky to her, but not enough to worry about. She radioed to dispatch that she was available for the next call and put the car in gear.

Talia experienced conflicting priorities after she closed the door behind Officer Garcia. Her tummy rumbled from an expansive hunger. She hadn't had a lot to eat the past couple of days. She wondered if she could remain awake long enough to prepare food and eat after having a bath. She felt like she really, really needed a bath. The aches and pains from the last couple of days activities would subside with a hot bath, but that might make her too sleepy to eat and she really, really needed to replenish the energy she had used up. She disdained microwave meals, but all that seemed to be available was either left over take-out food in the refrigerator or the frozen meals in the freezer. On the other hand, it would provide a modicum of energy to carry her through the bathing activity. The best option appeared to be a microwave beef and bean burrito. After heating the burrito, the aroma was not off-putting. It smelled a bit spicy, but that was acceptable. She chewed it thoughtfully and decided it was not a horrid meal. The flavor could be tolerated and since the ingredients appeared to be all natural she decided it was a good choice for the occasion.

She regretted not having had the opportunity to lay out the Sofka legacy for Chance, but there was still time for that. Chance might not have been, okay, was definitely not who she would have chosen for a husband, but whether he actually deserved it or not, he needed to be made aware of that part of the Sofka legacy. History did not treat kindly those who had abandoned their wives. He had to be made aware that their lives were often cut short. About half of the marriages had been arranged marriages. Not necessarily loveless, but not inspired by love. It appeared that her marriage was going to be of that category even though that was not what she desired. She decided she would no longer think fondly of finding a man to love and grow old with. That was out of the question now. Perhaps she and Chance would eventually grow to love one another, provide he accepted fate as she was now resolved to accepting the fate that was forced upon her. At any rate, she now had her legacy child in her belly. A child who would one day have the mantle of the Sofka legacy placed upon her shoulders. As she ran a hot bath, she took the opportunity to bond with her child even though she would currently be but a mere handful of cells. She sent loving thoughts to her belly. Her chills subsided as she lowered herself into the hot water waiting in the tub. The warmth slowly sank into her bones to replenish her spirits and she napped lightly for a few minutes as she basked in the suds left from lathering her body.

Chance woke when the light streaming through the uncovered window in the cell crept up his cheek. He was supposed to be at work currently. It was after start of business, and he was absent without anybody knowing where he was. As head of security, it would look bad to his supervisor, the COO. If he could get to work, one of his perks as head of security was a private office with ensuite bathroom. He would be able to get a shower at least if he could just get out of the holding cell and back to work. The hangover made his eyes sensitive to light. He tried to calculate how long it had been since he was perp-walked out of his own house. It made his head hurt. He was in a foul mood. He also smelled foul. He couldn't be certain that one of the drunks in the tank hadn't urinated on him while he slept. His one phone call the previous night had been to Frank, and that had gone to voice mail.

A guard called from in front of the cell door, "Chance Callahan. Check out time, your lawyer's here."

Check out was simple. The only thing he had on him when they brought him to the station was the clothes on his back, nothing else ID or otherwise. Outside Frank Rafferty his lawyer was waiting.

"Sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner Chance. I was delayed by a hot little stewardess in from Seattle."

"Whatever. She showed up at my house, Frank. She was IN my house, Frank! She woke me up in my bed, Frank!"

"Did you tap it?" Frank asked as he leered.

"Shut up, Frank."

"WOOT! You sly dog, you did tap it! So, how was she in bed? Was she a fighter, a screamer, or a moaner?"

"Fuck you Frank. Why the hell am I here?"

Frank keyed the remote for his car to unlock it. "Well, the blotter said drunk and disorderly, and resisting arrest. Did you fight the cops last night?"

Chance dropped into the passenger seat after Frank entered the driver's side, and closed the door, "No, I didn't fight the cop, but she kept telling them she was my wife. I got mad."

"Well, technically she is your wife buddy. I did that yesterday afternoon. We might have been able to press the annulment if you hadn't fucked her. But I can get the divorce paperwork drawn up today at work."

"Just get me to work right now. I'm already late and couldn't call in. Just get me there and don't talk."

When Frank pulled into the parking lot where Chance worked he asked, "You need me to get you home later?"

"Nah, I'll get a ride from somebody that works for me," As he exited the vehicle.

Chance shut the door and entered the building as Frank drove away. At the end of the workday, Chance asked the shift supervisor to drive him home. He deflected the questions about why he didn't have his badge, his pickup truck, keys or wallet when he showed up late to work. His subordinate was accustomed to being stonewalled by his supervisor though, so he shrugged it off and didn't pursue questioning any longer.

Chance walked up to the front porch, knelt down to find the fake rock that he hid the spare key to the front door. He knew it was risky to leave a spare key lying around like this, but since he had been perp-walked out of his house without the ability to get anything prior to being taken to lockup, necessity dictated its use. He retrieved the spare key, tossed the fake rock back where it had been and kept the key with him as he entered his house in case anyone had happened to see what he was doing. He didn't see any other vehicles around so he thought that maybe he had the house to himself finally.

Inside he went through the rooms to see if Talia was lurking. He did not find her there. Feeling relieved, he went to the bar and poured himself a bourbon; neat. He gulped it down and poured another. He felt the fuzziness around the edges of his senses as he walked to the kitchen to get something to eat. He was famished, and the slight buzz from the bourbon was helping to take the edge off the last couple of days. There was a half quart of pork fried rice that was only two or three days old in the fridge. He put that in the microwave and heated it up. He ate it from the carton, washing it down with the bourbon. He went into the office to check his email and there was nothing much new. With the bourbon making him feel mellow now, he decided to get into bed. He'd spent the last few hours trying not to dwell on what had happened the previous evening. It felt like a nightmare had happened. Maybe now he could get past the turmoil. He was starting to drift off to sleep when a soft noise brought consciousness back.

He lay in bed listening carefully. It sounded as if somebody walked through the room barefoot. Then the light in the closet flicked on. With a low growl starting in his throat he moved toward the edge of the bed. Talia appeared in the closet doorway framed by the light. He was able to see the black eye he had given her the night before. She leaned against the closet door frame, wearing what looked to be one of his dress shirts. It was not buttoned and he could see the curve of her breast, the slight swell of her belly around her navel, the hair covering her pubic mound. If it had been any other woman, he might have been off the bed and sweeping her into his arms. But it wasn't any other woman. It was the one woman who made his blood rage, enflamed his anger. And his body betrayed him. He felt heat growing in his loins. His cock twitched at the sight of her standing there half naked and ripe for taking.

With supreme effort he wrested control of himself from his passion. His breath was heavy and every muscle in his body wanted to throw her down on the floor and rage-fuck her. He couldn't understand what had come over him yet again.

"How... no, why are you still here?" Chance demanded.

"Husband... it would take hours to explain. You're tense, you need sleep, and you're not ready to listen yet. I can help you relieve your tension, help you get to sleep, if you will let me."

"I don't want anything from you!" but his cock twitched again.

"Your body does," Talia said softly. "Do you think I wanted this? I wanted a husband that would want me and love me. I wanted a husband that I could love, not a husband that I must love. And yet, here we are. Neither one of us has much choice in this now. Let me be the wife I can be, and I will let you be the husband you can be."

Talia took a few tentative steps in his direction. Chance could think no more, but he became painfully aware that his half turgid member was nearer and nearer to full erection contradictory to his will with each step she took. She knelt in front of him, reaching toward his cock, lightly stroking along the sides, top and bottom with a soothing and cooling lubrication. His eyes closed as she gripped it lightly and started moving first one hand and then the other along the shaft, coaxing more and more blood into it. Chance's breath grew deeper and quickened. He groaned when she flicked her tongue against the tip and frenulum, then started lapping up the pre-cum, teasing it from hole in the glans. His hips shifted forward preparing to thrust.

A veil descended over his vision. Heat built in his groin, and rage boiled in his heart. In one motion he stood, grabbing Talia's head with both hands and thrusting his cock in one stroke down her throat, burying himself and crushing her face against his pubis. Talia almost panicked, her breathing was restricted and trying to take in air all she accomplished was sucking the head in further. Yet still her body responded to being used so roughly, her heat rose with every heartbeat. First one orgasm, then another, then instead of fighting it, she dove into the sensation, being caught without air, impaled through the throat; she grabbed is ass and tried pulling him further in. Her body needed release, Chance needed release. Chance wouldn't release his grip while he was blinded with rage, but Talia worked a still lubricated finger up into the tight clenched bud of his anus and started vigorously massaging his prostate until release was all he could do. Chance rocked and ground his hips at the sensation pushing him up to the brink of explosive orgasm. He screamed in the moment of release. His cock gushed stream after stream of cum down Talia's throat as her next orgasm rocked her from her core up to the base of her skull and back down again.