Untitled

I got Jeffersons at about 9 in the morning, I walked there from the subway in a daze. By then I had already been in shock for two days, and several times I had stomp the desire to scream as I walked down the street. Just stop and scream until there was nothing left of me.

I had gotten to his place before he got back from dropping off his kids. I stripped down to my underwear, and went into the bathroom to tend to my ministrations. I came back into the living room, and settled on the couch, and began reading my book. Periodically I would lean my head back against the couch cushions. I couldn't breath, I couldn't think, I was just overwhelmed.

I was rocking back and forth trying to calm myself. When Jefferson opened the door, I stopped, desperately trying to hide my panic. "Hey, how are you doing?" He asked, closing the door behind him. "I'm good," I croaked. "How are you?"

"I'm alright, you don't look so good though, you sure you're okay?" He asked, taking off his shoes. "My ex is dead," I said bluntly. I've never been good at being subtle. "Oh my god," he snapped to attention, sweeping into the kitchen to deposit his coffee cup on the counter, and coming back into the living room, he placed his book on the table and took off his coat. He came over and settled down next to me on the couch. He wrapped his arms around me. I numbly relayed the information.

"I got a phone call from a friend of mine on Tuesday, she and I share him as an ex. Apparently his mother had e-mailed her, telling her that he had died in a boating accident. The boat had capsized and caught him underneath, and he drowned. They didn't find his body until the next day. This happened about a month ago." I snuggled closer to him, taking comfort in his presence. "This was the bad ex," I murmured into his neck.

"I feel horrible," I moaned. "I want so desperately to be able to say good things about him. I want to tell loving stories of tender moments. But I would be lying if I did that, and I don't lie. This man raped me, he took away my right to consent, to safe words, to respect. I want so badly to say good things about him, but I can't do that. And I feel horrible. A man is dead, and I have nothing good to say about him. And what's worse is that I'm relieved. I am relieved that this man will never be able to hurt anyone else again."

"You're not a horrible person. You're honest, if you said anything different it would be a lie. Sure things started out alright in the beginning, but that changed. It's okay to feel the way you are feeling. And you're right, he will never be able to hurt you or anyone else again. You shouldn't feel as if you have eulogize him, it's okay to feel what you are feeling," Jefferson soothed.

"I am a deeply religious woman," I went on. "And part of what I believe in is karmic debt. That we have to pay for our sins, not to the people that we hurt, but to the universe. That's why I never sought revenge, never tried to do anything about what he did. Because I believed that the universe would take care of me. I know that I'm not the only person that he hurt, that man had a consistent pattern of abuse. But death? Was his debt really that great? How many people did he owe? How many people weighted the scale? And why?"

We sat there in silence for a long time, snuggled up on the couch. I groped desperately for a topic. "I got an internship," I said with an abrupt change of subject. I could feel Jefferson attempting to make the same mental leap I had just made. "Yeah," I acknowledged his confusion. "I'm good at changing the topic." "That's great, where's it at?" He asked. I told him about it, and after a few minutes we lapsed back into silence.

"Am I a horrible person?" I asked quietly, tears choking me. "No baby, you're not a horrible person at all," he said softly.

We sat there in silence for a few more moments, and I leaned my head back to look at him. He kissed me gently on the mouth, our tongues exploring one anothers mouths. I tugged ineffectively at his shirt. "Let's level the playing field," I said, attempting to get back onto solid ground. He pulled me into the bedroom, stripping off his clothes before wrapping his arms around me while he kissed me. He fumbled with my bra and managed to get it off after a moment. He took a step back and bent over to examine my panties. "Well Hello Kitty," he said, commenting on my pink 'hello kitty' underwear before slipping them off onto the floor.

We cuddled under the blanket, holding each other tightly, murmuring to one another for a while. I slowly switched gears, pushing the conflicting emotions aside, and allowing myself to enjoy Jefferson's company and our morning together.

After a while Jefferson started to idlly play with one of my breasts. "You can be such a tease, you know that?" I muttered. "Yeah?" He breathed. "Tell me about that." His touches became feather light and I squirmed as his hand played over my breasts, looping around my nipples and travelling down to carress my inner thighs before settling to gently knead my clit with his fingertips. I gasped as he drew my arm up above my head, and caught my foot under his leg.

I gasped and moaned, working myself towards my orgasm. My breathing hitched and I came quietly, jerking a little against his hand. He started to massage my labia, pressing his hand up inside of me. He began rubbing his whole hand against my vagina, and I could feel his hand pressing up against the bone. It hurt, but it felt good too.

He pulled his hand out and grabbed my ankle and pulled it over so that he was positioned between my legs. He pulled out a condom and we fucked quietly for a while until he rolled off of me and cuddled up next to me. We napped, curled up against each other. I must have fallen asleep at some point, but not for long.

After a while I leaned down and took his cock in my mouth. I pressed my fingers into his perineum and he moaned. I leaned back. "I wanna finger your ass while I'm going down on you, is that alright?" I asked quietly. He nodded, and we put some lube on my hand and I wiped it over two of my fingers. I gently played with his ass, slipping one finger in, taking my time. Eventually I slid another finger into his ass. He was incredibly tight, and I couldn't move my fingers very easily, but I managed. I slurped his cock into my mouth and sucked on him, my other hand alternated between playing with his balls and perineum. "God this is hot," I said. "I am fucking you so hard when I'm done down here."

I moved my hand back and forth in his ass gently. I quietly monitered his face, checking in on him from time to time. Eventually he asked me to stop, and I pulled my hand out, but kept going down on him for a few minutes more.

Eventually I stopped and leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth. "You have that 'i wanna fuck' look on your face," he said. I smiled widely and leaned over to his nightstand. Taking out a condom, I put it on him and mounted him. Some didn't feel quite right with it, but I started moving anyway. After a few minutes, I realized what was wrong. "Say something," I breathed. He was silent for a few moments, and I wondered if he had heard me. "Talk to me, if you talk to me this will get a whole lot better for both of us," I explained quietly.

So he talked.

He began slowly, weaving a quiet tale. Driving out to the woods, going for a hike. Making me strip down naked and walk out ahead of him, barefoot. How he would beat me with his walking stick if I were to slow down. Periodically making me stop so that I would suck his cock while it was so deep in my throat I couldn't breath.

My cunt tightened like a vice and I had a lake between my thighs as I rode him. I fucked him deep and long and hard. I fucked him in a way I hadn't fucked anyone in a very long time, with my whole body. My breasts were pressed flat against his chest, and all I was aware of was his cock sheathed between my thighs, his stubble against my cheek, and the sound of his voice.

He told me how he would fuck me, while I laid in the dirt, until he came, and then he would pee on me and make me get up and keep walking. How when people came along he would make me hide in a sticker bush and wait until they were gone, to keep quiet about my cuts and stratches.

It went on and on and I did not want it to stop. I wanted more. Hell, I'm turned on just thinking about it. When I stopped, I rolled onto my back and he rolled on top of me, putting his cock in my pussy he began fucking me. We breathed heavily into eachothers necks while we fucked. Eventually he gasped out that he was going to come. "Okay baby, come," I murmured, and he quaked. After he came, I smiled and smoothed his hair.

We snuggled up afterwards. Holding each other close for a few minutes until we roused ourselves enough to for him to eat some lunch and for us to get dressed and head on out together; me off to my bus, him off to get his kids.

It was a good date, for reasons beyond the obvious. It was good because for the first time since I got the news about my ex, I was able to say what I needed to say. I had spent two days trying to find the words I needed, and I finally found them. Jefferson wasn't the first person to tell me what he did, but it was the first time I finally heard what was being said to me.

As for my ex, all I can say is that I loved him until I couldn't. I wish I could say more than that, but I can't. I hope I can be forgiven for that.