Futile Resistance Ch. 05

With increasing force, he plunged into her. She rocked backwards, meeting his every thrust eagerly. Sounds of their passion filled the room - the wet slap of their sweaty bodies meeting, groans, moans and grunts, mindlessly whispered words of sex and love. Aidan straightened again, reached beneath her body to find the hard pearl of her clit. He fucked her harder and faster, rubbing her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. French began to pant, her breaths becoming tortured moans as Aidan pounded into her, steadily driving her toward climax.

"Yes, Aidan, yes," she chanted, "Fuck me hard. Harder!"

Aidan rubbed her clit between his thumb and index finger, pressed his other hand on her lower back, forcing her legs wider, changing the angle of penetration. His cock rubbed against the front wall of her pussy on each thrust, just as he'd intended. French arched into him, tossed her head back and forth. Tingling that began in her fingers and toes consumed her body as her breaths grew more ragged and uneven. Mindless, she dropped her head and shoulders down to the pillow, extended her arms above her to grip the rungs of the headboard. Her body was coiled so tightly, she thought she would die if she didn't get release soon.

"Please, Aidan..." she whimpered.

No sooner had she uttered the words than she flew apart. She cried out with a series of tremulous, guttural growls. Powerful pulses of pleasure consumed her entire body; inside and out, her muscles seemed to flex and release. Her skin felt as though it had shrunk and the intense throbbing of her body stretched it taut, sensitized it to an almost excruciating degree. Her eyes were closed, yet varying shades of light and dark, flashes of vivid color appeared behind her eyelids. Aidan fucked into her, again, again, again sending more shockwaves through her body. Slamming into her with a final few thrusts, he came quietly undone, flooding her pussy with warmth.

Gasping for breath, he pulled her upright onto her knees so her back was to his front, taking care that he stayed inside her. She leaned against him, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Kissing her, he cupped her breasts in his hands then slid them over her taut abdomen and into the close-cropped curls at the apex of her thighs. Her body quivered, her pussy spasmed around his cock where it was still nestled within her. He played his fingers over the wetness there, sought out that most intimate juncture of their bodies. Slicking his wet fingers upward, he stroked her clit, making her cry out in anguished ecstasy. Her pussy tightened spastically with the fluttering of another orgasm and his softening length slid out of her.

Aidan flopped forward onto his pillow and pulled her down next to him. He gathered her in, not caring that they were both sticky with sweat and overheated from their exertions. He kissed her, soothed her, lifted the heavy mass of her hair from her neck to cool her.God, he thought,I wish I had the strength to do that all over again...

Tipping French's face up so he could look into her eyes, he saw that she was back to being shy. A blush suffused her cheeks and she darted her gaze away from his. That she could be shy afterthat was amazing to him. He'd just have to work hard to keep her wanting and wanton until she got used to it.

She yawned and he grinned,

"I'll second that," he teased, before his jaw cracked in a yawn of his own.

"I think you just about killed me," French murmured sleepily.

"Mmmm. Well, go to sleep and I'll see about finishing the job in the morning."

With a smile curving her lips, she snuggled into him and fell asleep.

*****

It was Christmas Eve and Aidan had invited her to his family's annual celebration. There would be a lot of people there, despite that fact that it was Christmas Eve. The Conal's had a wide circle of friends who attended the gathering at the family home in Marblehead, on Boston's North Shore. It had become one of the most anticipated parties held every year.

French was nervous about meeting the family. She was mentally prepared for them to reject her. People of their status were accustomed to knowing who one's 'people' were and she didn't have any people, and even if she had, there were none who would matter to them. The man who had fathered her was of the same ilk and he'd wanted nothing to do with her. She knew the type well; that was the one important thing her mother had taught her. So, she was prepared for their censure, and if they didn't greet her with outright censure, then she was prepared for the cool politesse that would accompany their introduction. They wouldn't take her seriously, wouldn't take her relationship with Aidan seriously, she thought.

That thought took her aback, because she was unaware of having begun thinking that she herself was serious about her relationship with Aidan. Yet, the shift in thought had evidently occurred within her at some point. Gone was the idea that they would amicably part ways when they had both gotten what they sought from one another. Gone was the notion that they could look for nothing more than companionship and mutual fulfillment of sexual desire. Gone was the fiction that had led her to believe that she could be in the company of a man such as Aidan so frequently and not fall a little bit more in love with him each time they were together.

Indeed, that was what had happened. She was in love with Aidan. She had been well on her way there when she broke up with him before; she had ended it though, thereby vanquishing the possibility of heartbreak. This time was different. She was equally as frightened - terrified really - as she had been before, afraid that her heart would be broken. The difference between then and now, she surmised, was the fact that she wasn't afraid of whether or not she'd be able to survive the heartbreak itself. She knew she would be strong enough to survive, just as she was now strong enough to risk the prospect of heartbreak, love and loss.

A smile brightened the reflection of her face in the mirror as she applied makeup. It was a painstaking process, given that she didn't wear makeup often; she had had to remove and re-apply her eye makeup once already because she had botched it up. Now she was almost finished, had only to apply her lipstick. The new bent of her thoughts regarding Aidan had given her pause. She didn't know when it had happened. Was it the night she had told him her secrets or had it been before then and that night been the glue sealing the deal?

Suddenly, she felt a frisson of unease. What did the acknowledgment of her feelings for Aidan mean? Did she want to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him? She couldn't be sure that marriage was what she wanted. She had always thought that marriage was just a piece of paper. People broke their word all the time. The number of her mother's lovers who had been married, men who had taken vows to forsake all others, proved that point. Those men's word had been worth less than the paper they'd been printed on.

Not only that, but she suddenly realized that she did have a quaint notion that if, when, she got married, it would be for forever. There was no room for negotiation, no room to even entertain thoughts of divorce.Yes, she thought,I am something of a romantic. I want the fairytale, the happily ever after, even though I would rather have died than admit it before now. Even to myself... Growing up with her mother, she had been taught that there was no such thing as happily ever after. She had learned through years of observation that there was no such thing as pure, true love.I think I will have to rethink that, she thought,I will need to unlearn all of the 'undeniable, irrefutable truths' my mother taught me.

But not tonight. Tonight, she would go up to Marblehead and meet Aidan's family. She would set aside thoughts of love, marriage and forever and try her best to be the best she could be, so that even if -- no when -- Aidan's parents expressed their doubts about her, they would find her behavior and demeanor unimpeachable. Casting a final approving glance at herself in the mirror, she left the bathroom.

*****

She had bought a new dress for the evening, but as they drove the forty-five minutes up to Marblehead, she was second-guessing the choice. She had loved it from the moment she'd seen it in the Newbury Street boutique. When she'd tried it on, though, she'd known that it was 'the one'. Without being too tight, the dress molded to her every curve as though it had been tailor made for her. Made of garnet red shantung silk, the dress had a scooped, low neckline and wide straps over the shoulders. From the front, it looked modest enough. From the back, it was anything but modest; the scoop in the back echoed the neckline, but dipped sinfully low on her back, leaving almost every bronzed inch of the toned flesh bare. She had accessorized the dress with matte gold strappy high-heeled sandals and a suite of jewelry in the same matte tone of gold as her shoes. The chandelier earrings were bedecked with garnets, as was the bracelet. The pendant on the matching necklace hovered just above the shadow between her breasts, drawing the eye to the hint of cleavage bared there. She had done her eyes in smoky shades of gray and wore garnet red lipstick. Her hair was swept back from her face and cascaded down her back in loose waves. She had thought she looked pretty good. Until now... and now it was too late to be having second thoughts.

Aidan had complimented her on her appearance profusely and she knew he was sincere. However, she knew she only had one chance to make a good first impression and she was worried that her dress, hair and makeup might be too... Too... Tooeverything and that Aidan's mother, especially, would disapprove. Normally, French wouldn't have given a second thought to what she had chosen to wear; she knew she had impeccable taste in clothing. Tonight was different, though. She wanted to be everything Aidan's parents could possibly want for him. She didn't want them thinking she was gauche or backwards or lacking in taste. She was a bundle of nerves.

As they drove, she was preoccupied with the anxious thoughts that streamed through her mind. She responded monosyllabically to Aidan's attempts at conversation. She didn't notice that Aidan had exited the motorway and pulled into the parking lot of a playground until they came to a stop and he turned off the ignition.

"Why are we stopping?"

"Because, I want to know what's wrong with you," he responded.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. We should go, we're going to be late, Aidan."

"No we're not. Are you nervous about meeting my parents?"

"Of course I'm nervous! What do you think?" she said testily.

"Their going to love you, French. Don't worry."

"Right, Aidan. They're going to love that you're dating a Black woman, who has no pedigree, no connections, no money, no nothing..." she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Would you stop it? I don't know who you think you're going to be spending Christmas with, but the people you just described are not my parents. They're going to think you are lovely and they will accept you because I've brought you home. They won't think about your skin color and they won't care whether or not you have any money. That stuff doesn't matter to them! Seeing me happydoes matter to them and if you keep this up, I won't be happy when we get there and then you'll actually have a reason to worry..."

"Hmph," French said, unable to come up with an argument to refute what he'd said.

"That's right -- hmph," Aidan said. "Just relax, I'm telling you they'll love you. They really will. My dad's a sucker for a beautiful girl. He'll probably think you're too good forme, especially with the way you look tonight. I promise you, there's no need to worry, baby."

"I can't help it, Aidan. I have all of these 'what ifs' running through my mind. And all of them are really bad. I don't want to embarrass you in front of your family or give anyone a reason to say anything bad about you..."

"They won't," he said abruptly. "There's nothing bad to say. You're a gorgeous, incredibly talented and self-made woman. What's bad about that? And, may I remind you thatyou're the one who's doing all the judging? Give them a chance, French."

"You're right. I just want to make a good first impression so badly," she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the headrest with a sigh.

"Just be yourself. That's the only way I like you to be," he placed his hand over hers where they were knotted together in her lap. He brought one hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles, then turned it over to kiss her palm. Leaning over the gearshift, he kissed her lips. He pressed light closed-mouthed kisses to her lips at first, then teased her mouth open and delved inside to taste her. She responded to him, turning her head on the headrest to meet his lips more fully and to ply her tongue in his mouth in turn. She reached up, lay a slim hand alongside his face, held him close to her.

They made out in the car like a pair of horny teenagers. The windows steamed up as they groped at each other. Aidan kissed her neck, the expanse of her chest and hint of her breasts left exposed by the scooped neckline of her dress. French slipped a hand between his thighs, stroked the length of his cock through the fabric of his tuxedo pants. He groaned and slid a hand under the above-the-knee hemline of her dress. Up, up his hand went until he reached the apex of her thighs where it met with hot, wet flesh. Snapping his head up, he swallowed convulsively and asked,

"No panties?"

"Nope, can't wear any underwear at all under this dress; even a thong showed right through..."

"Oh, God," he groaned, "this is going to be the longest night of my life..."

"It'll be worth the wait, I promise," she teased, nipping his earlobe.

"I'm tempted to say to hell with the party and turn around and go back to your place. My mom would kill me, though," he sighed regretfully, "we'd better go before we're later than we already are."

"Let's go then and hurry! Don't make them hate me already just because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself."

He smiled and pressed a lingering kiss, full of promise, to her lips then refastened her seatbelt and his own. They were on the motorway again in no time at all. French opened the lighted mirror within the car's sun visor and groaned at the smeared mess that had started out as carefully applied lipstick. Darting a glance at Aidan, she couldn't help but laugh, his mouth was smeared with the garnet lip-stain, too.

Looking alarmed, he asked, "What are you laughing at?!"

Laughing harder, French simply handed him a tissue. She reapplied her lipstick, checked the rest of her makeup and her hair, smoothed her dress for the umpteenth time. Finally, she subsided.This is as good as its gonna get, she thought. Having decided that worry and anxiety weren't useful in this situation, she turned to Aidan and asked him to tell her more about his parents and brother and about who else would be at the party, the better to know what was waiting for her. They spent the rest of the drive chatting and French was able to forget for awhile what she was about to face.

*****

They arrived at the house -- a beautifully restored Victorian right on the rocky coast of Marblehead. The house was huge and lights blazed from all the windows. The property was decked out in tasteful Christmas decorations -- no gaudy lights or lawn ornaments like you sometimes saw in the suburbs. The snow that had fallen during the day gave the house a gingerbread quality, but on a much larger scale. Pulling into the circular driveway, Aidan got out of the car and told the valet to park his car with the family vehicles in the carriage house and to then take their overnight cases to wherever they'd be sleeping. He came around to the passenger side, opened the door for French and helped her out of the car.

"Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said. "Do I look OK?"

"Gorgeous."

"Thanks, lead on..."

Aidan led her up the front steps of the house. Normally, he would have gone in through the kitchen, but tonight he knew it would be full and bustling with the catering staff. They walked in and were immediately surrounded with warmth, cheer and music. One of the people hired to handle the guests' coats and personal belongings came up to them and divested them of their coats. Apprehensively, French relinquished the protective shell of her coat.

"Here goes nothing," she said to Aidan with a nervous smile.

"Relax."

They skirted around the throngs of people in search of either Aidan's parents or drinks, whichever came to them first. Personally, French would much rather have the drink first. Suddenly, Aidan was seized from behind then drawn into an enthusiastic hug from a man who appeared to be a few years younger than Aidan. It had to be his brother, Brian. The two men looked a lot alike, there was no doubt they were brothers. However, there were almost imperceptible differences in their features and, though both men were very handsome, French couldn't help but think smugly that she was happy she'd gotten the better looking brother.

"Brian, this is my girlfriend, Francoise Delauney. Everyone calls her French," Aidan said, proudly presenting her to Brian. "Baby, this is my little brother, Brian."

"I'm so glad to finally meet you," Brian said, "Aidan's told me a lot about you, but he forgot to mention that you are drop-dead gorgeous!"

French was bemused at having been introduced as Aidan's girlfriend and also by the fact that Aidan had apparently talked about her to his brother.

"Likewise, Brian. And, I've heard a lot about you, too," she finally managed to respond.

"Probably none of it good. If I know Aidan," Brian joked, "he probably told you only bad things about me so I wouldn't have a chance in hell at stealing you away from him. And believe me, if you weren't already spoken for, I'd definitely be trying to sweep you off your feet!"

Batting her lashes comically, French said in a pseudo purr, "Chér, if you keep flattering me like that you might actually have a chance at me..."

"Madamoiselle, I aim to please," Brian said, sketching a courtly bow.

"All right, you two! Enough flirting," Aidan said with an exaggerated air of pretend annoyance. "Where're mom and dad?"

"Coming up right behind you. Get ready, mom went crazy when I got here," Brian warned. "Acted like a mother bear who'd found her long-lost cub... You'd think she never saw us."

"Aidan, darling, you're finally here," a cultured female voice said from behind them.

The beautiful, tall woman with ash-blonde hair swept Aidan into a hug, then stood back to get a good look at him.

"Oh, honey, you're much too thin!" she fretted, "Why won't you take better care of yourself?" Placing her hand on his cheek, she examined his face carefully, sincere concern evident in her eyes. "Aren't you eating at all? And look at this shaggy hair... I've told you that you've got to do better taking care of yourself. Going off to all those godforsaken places you go..." she grumbled.

"And what's this?" she asked, looking at a red smear near his ear. In the age old way mothers do, she wet a fingertip with her tongue and rubbed at the spot vigorously. French blushed and groaned inwardly as she watched Aidan's mother scrub at the red lipstick stain on his neck.

"Mom," Aidan said, squirming away. "I'm fine. You look beautiful, by the way," he kissed her cheek. "And the party looks like it'll be a raging success as usual." Turning to the distinguished-looking gentleman who'd stood quietly while Aidan's mother fussed over him, Aidan said, "Dad, you're looking well."