Reaching the Summit Ch. 03

- Touch it.

Her eyes dropped:

- Please John, I've never...

He grabbed the flogger, brought it down with an evil swish on her right tit. She jerked in surprise. Was shocked that she relished the sting, the lingering tingle. Excitement welled in her. Ohhh christ... closed her eyes. Heard the swish. Her left nipple exploded. Her fingers slid into her wetness, stroked, then rubbed. Ohhhhhh...

- Good girl. That's right, wank for me.

She was lost now, rubbing her clit, feeling somehow dirty as she had as a girl, when she first discovered this secret pleasure. Felt it rising, the deep need which could only have one outcome...

- Stop now.

Her hand lingered a second too long. Opened her eyes as she heard the swish... ohhhhhh fuck. The tendrils stung the back of her hand. But stray ones bit into her labia. She screamed...

- I said stop.

His hand jerked hers from her cunt. Then slapped her face. Not hard, but enough that she could feel it. She opened her eyes. He was naked before her, panting. He knelt on the bed, eased her legs apart:

- Open wide.

Memories of the dentist's chair rushed through her, complete vulnerability, trust in another, fear of pain. She felt the trickle of her arousal. Her legs spread of their own volition. His hands fastened on her wrists, held them to the bed. Her wet cuntlips parted to welcome his penetration. Jesusfuck. He took her, raw and urgent, drove into her repeatedly. She felt her hips rise and accept the violation. Oohhh hell, this was new, she wanted it, relished what he'd done, was doing, urged him on wordlessly. Knew his need and welcomed it. Everything was in her cunt now, expanding rainbow of sensation, glowing ever brighter, shimmering and pulsing, filling mind and body... she looked and saw his eyes hooded, somewhere else, face twisted in sexneed. His hand moved to her breast, fingers tugged viciously at the nipple.

- My ... Dirty ... Bitch

His cock drove in on every word. The explosion tore her apart as she felt his semen pump, fill her need, complete her... He fell on her, spent and panting.

There were tears in her eyes when, aeons later, the sobbing brought him from his trance. He licked there, tasted the salt:

- Ready for breakfast now?

*****

She didn't speak as he spooned scrambled egg onto the toast on her plate. Could barely look at him. Eventually she did:

- John? What happened? What was that?

He smiled. But it was nearer a smirk. She didn't like it:

- What was what?

- John! Please, don't make this hard for me. What happened to you just there? In... in bed, I mean? You became someone else... and I... I became someone else too.

He laid down his knife and fork. Touched the back of her hand. Actually, just brushed the tiny hairs there:

- No, we were both ourselves. It's just... neither of us had ever met that part of you before. Well I certainly hadn't, and from your reaction, I know you hadn't either. But I thought it might be there, needed to find out. That's why I brought the wee toy. I wanted to know. Tell me, did I do anything you didn't like?

She shook her head, the tiniest movement.

- Did you like it? Our fuck... and everything else?

She knew she had to look at him now:

- Ahh -- she felt his questing eyes bore into her -- yes, of course. You know I did.

He rose and walked round the table, bent to kiss her mouth.

- Aye, I know. Just wanted to hear you say it. But now -- glancing at his watch -- I need to go. And so do you. You know I have the boys tonight. Want to join us for dinner?

- You know I'd love to. But ... I think... I don't think... we need to rub Pat's face in it like that. It'll come in time.

- Oh, fuck Pat...

She heard the anger in his voice. Rose from her chair and faced him:

- This isn't about Pat, man. It's about ME. Just because you can do... what you just did to me, with me, doesn't mean...

She faltered at his smile, continued:

- Will they stay overnight with you?

- No, that's only allowed at weekends. One of the things I'm fighting her about. To be allowed to be their bloody father, not some weekend visiting uncle...

- Wheesht John, you know it'll all come right in the end. So, maybe a drink about nine, after you've taken them back? Now, time for you to go. Want a lift?

- No thanks love. Have to go into town this morning, I'll get the subway.

He put his coat on, drew her to him, kissed her goodbye. She had noticed the endearment. As he opened the door to leave she touched his arm. Whispered:

- Whatever that was this morning John, I loved it. Can't ever remember being as aroused sexually...

He was trembling with excitement as he strode the snowy streets to the subway.

*****

He was in a ferment all morning, conflicting thoughts bubbling in his head. Just as well it was routine office-work, he smiled grimly to himself, responding to letters and emails. He was deeply worried about things with Pat, his silly remark to Julie that morning notwithstanding. If she got bloody-minded, the argument over the separation agreement would drag on, and with it the awful uncertainty about his 'access' to his children. She controlled it now, and he knew she enjoyed having that power over him. The financial settlement, upon which his ability to buy a new flat for himself and the boys depended, was secondary.

He discussed it over lunch with a friend and work-colleague. She had realised he was troubled, suggested the lunch, drew it all from him. She made a suggestion. He was smiling that afternoon.

When he took Hamish and Dougal back to Pat's that night, he told her he needed to talk, whist the boys were in the bath.

- I thought you said we'd have a proper chat soon?

There was uncertainty on her face.

- This won't take long. Want me to have a look at that radiator?

She nodded, followed him into her kitchen. He felt the two radiators, knelt by the cold one:

- You should have a key for this? I think it just needs bled.

She rummaged in a bowl, produced the key. He took it and twisted it in the radiator. Wee dribble of water. He stopped turning:

- Gimme an ashet, a saucepan, something? This needs to be bled properly.

When the proffered bowl was in place, he twisted the key and water spurted, then slowed:

- There, I think that's done it. Should work fine now. Just an airlock.

She smiled for the first time that evening:

- Thank you John. Now, what were you going to say that's so urgent?

He emptied the bowl in the sink, reached for a cloot to wipe spilled water from the floor. Turned to her as he dried his hands, then deliberately stroked her cheek:

- I was going to say -- suddenly for all his earlier resolve, his mouth was dry -- tell you that... Och Pat, look, stop fucking me about on the separation agreement, I've had enough... No woman, hear me out.

He controlled his anger, aware of his sons in the bath next door:

- I'll give you a fortnight from today to let my lawyer know that you've signed it. That's when my next maintenance payment is due. You know fine that we agreed every detail between us before it went to the solicitors to be given legal form. And ... if I don't have it in a fortnight, I'll stop the maintenance payments. I won't spend the money, it'll go in a separate account and you'll get the lot in due course. But only after we have a legal agreement.

He was breathing heavily, tirade finished. She slumped against the counter:

- You... you bastard John, she panted. You.. you couldn't do that. You know I need that money. It's not for me, it's for the boys, you know that fine. You -- there were tears in her eyes now -- you can't use the boys like that against me.

- Sorry Pat, but you've sat on that document now for over three months. We agreed every word in it between us. And you're the one who's been using the boys as a weapon, not me, determining I can only see them when it suits you. You leave me no choice. You're the one who's fucking me - and them - about, not t'other way round. Now, I need to go.

He felt the radiator, warming now. Left her sobbing, went into the bathroom to say goodnight to the boys. Pulled on his coat against the snowflurries and left the house.