Just Pretty Glass

I couldn't say the words. They wouldn't have felt authentic coming from me. Not after I'd been sucking on her nipple less than an hour ago. I pulled out the photos, hiding them from her view at first. There wasn't really much more. Robert was a smart man, after all. A cruel, manipulative man, but smart. He even knew how to get the girl to keep her mouth shut. My guy really had only been able to get the photos and a few sparse texts, but they'd be enough.

Moving to sit next to her. I placed the stack of photos down on the coffee table in front of her. She looked from me and my increasing closeness to the photos that would ultimately set her free. Her eyes squinted, her head tipped to the side slightly, at first it seemed like she was frowning. And then...she cracked a smile.

"Claire? Are you..."

She picked them up and slowly started to flip through the photos. My guy had set up a spy camera inside Robert's office. I didn't know how or when or any of the details. I didn't want to. All I cared about were the results. The first photo had Robert still fully dressed, sweater vest and all, getting his dick sucked by this petite young thing. Nothing was exposed, but it was clear she wasn't looking for a contact lens. The next photo had Robert standing, face fucking the girl, tears and slobber running down her front and all. The third jumped to them being mostly naked, her riding his cock as he reclined in his seat once again. Claire stared at the fourth photo the longest. Robert was fucking the girl in the ass. If I didn't hate the man so much, I'd have appreciated the photo. As it was, I appreciated it plenty for what it was, and what it would do.

Claire kept staring at it though. Her husband's cock sliding either in or out of that girl's tight asshole as he pummeled her into his oversized leather chair. The girl's fingers were visible on her cunt, and you could clearly see her smashed face against the leather, obviously getting the most out of her therapy time.

Another sigh escaped Claire as she slumped back on her couch, smiling serenely. It wasn't exactly the reaction I expected.

"Are you okay? I know this is a lot. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

"I'm okay, Brian. Really, I am." Her tone sounded almost dreamy. It was almost unsettling. "I'm actually relieved. I feel... free, for the first time in years. I feel free, and safe. How fucked up is that?! He would lose his license for this. Then we'd both have nothing. He'd never risk that. Not for anything, which means he can't keep the kids from me—"

"He never could, Claire. You know you could have talked to me about that!"

"How? You really think you wouldn't have judged me? If I'd told you how things were and that I just put up with it? And for what? To be able to be there for my kids because I never had that? And what now?"

"What do you mean, what now? Now you leave him." She stared at me flatly. I almost always knew what she was thinking, but for the second time today, I was appallingly ignorant. "Claire, you need to leave him. I'll... I'll take care of you. I'm not implying anything about us. Just... get out. Okay? For your own sake, for your kids' sake."

She just shook her head, smiling again, sadly now.

"I think you have clients today, right?"

"Marie can cancel my day. Don't try to dismiss me like that. I don't want you to be alone. I...I want to be with you." I'm not sure if she understood, but I wasn't going to push either way.

"That's sweet, Brian. But just give me the name of a divorce attorney you trust. I'll handle what I need to."

I called in some favors and got her a real shark. Told him to bill me for anything that she would be responsible for. Which, after giving the guy a very brief rundown, seemed like it would be precious little.

Claire left a note with Marie before our usual lunch date. It said she had to take care of a few things. She was sure I'd understand. And promised she'd text me. Marie gave me the most pitiful look I've ever gotten. What could I do? It was her life. I was just the asshole in the office next to hers that had an ear for things, literally.

I spent the entire weekend checking my phone obsessively, as though I didn't have a million ways to be notified. As if I'd have missed anything anyway. On Tuesday I kept popping out of my office to see if she was there. Nothing. Nothing continued for the rest of the week. I wanted to text her, and say what? Hey, sure was swell nibbling on your nipple the other morning. Sorry your husband has been fucking someone else in the ass. Btw, how's that going?

It just didn't sit well with me. She said she'd text me. Pretty solid boundary. The more time passed the clearer it became- I was never going to hear from her again.

Generally, I'm not an overly emotional guy. Claire was different, and she made me different. I guess that's why I was jumping to such conclusions. Friday afternoon rolled around, and Marie was gathering her things. I was miserable, but she'd gotten used to that.

"I'm heading out, hon. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, Marie. I'm fine. See you Monday."

"See ya, hon. And don't worry so much. Your Claire just has a lot on her mind right now. She doesn't want to muddle that up by adding anything else into the mix. Oh, and she asked me to tell you there was one time she did have some DIY time in the afternoon? She said she usually took care of that in the mornings before you got in. I'm not sure what she was talking about, but she wanted me to tell you." She dipped out as I called after her, yelling out my questions about what the fuck she was talking about, inquiring when she'd been talking with Claire, and since when was she my Claire? Not a one of them was answered.

I did feel better though. And shit, I knew it! But damn....

That night around 6 pm while I was still in the office, Claire finally texted me: Hey, can I come over? That's it. That's all she wrote. What the fuck was that?! Of course I said yes and hurried my ass home. She got there about five minutes after I did. I was still in my dress shirt and slacks, but the bathroom was clean.

"You really have been single for a while, huh?" she teased as she looked around.

I pulled her to me, just holding her for a minute. She looked happier, lighter, like she could finally stand up straight after so many years. She hugged me back and squeezed as tightly as she could for just a second.

When she pulled back to look at me, even her eyes seemed brighter. She put a hand up to the side of my face, letting her thumb run over my skin for a moment before she popped up on her tiptoes to kiss me. It was a dreadfully short embrace, our lips barely parting long enough for me to even register what was happening before she stepped back and away. Again - what the fuck was that?

"Hi. Nice to see you," I said, taking my turn to tease her. She'd always crinkle her nose and her whole face would smile whenever I did anything corny like that. I'd missed that in the nearly two weeks since I'd seen her last.

"It's very nice to see you, too," she laughed. "I'm sorry I wasn't in touch sooner. I was dealing with some long overdue paperwork. Still dealing with it, actually. But it's on its way. I've done all I can. And now? Now I need a drink." She pulled out a bottle of gin and a few little bottles of tonic, dug in her grocery bag for some lemons and asked which way to my kitchen.

I wanted her. Wanted to pin her up against the wall and kiss her and fuck her and show her how much I had really missed her. Instead I made the woman a gin & tonic with a slice of lemon. She was convinced the lemon brought out the juniper berries in the gin. I don't think it mattered one bit, because she only ever drank to get fucking wasted and then didn't really taste anything anyway. But who was I to deny her taste buds on the ride there?

She was handsier, cuddlier than I'd ever known her to be. It only made sense; her husband had been cheating on her. Even if she had stayed with him, I doubt she'd be as loyal. Not that I'd be able to abide by that. Claire is a smart woman, and cruelty can get you a lot, but only an idiot puts up with that much shit for that long.

"He wanted to know why I had someone look into him, how I'd even found a guy for that. That sort of thing. No denying anything, no apology, nothing like that at all. I almost think that was worse. I wouldn't tell him, but he knew it was you. I gave Marie a heads up, in case he showed up at your office. Not like he would. The man is a coward in real life, when he can't control and intimidate someone.

"He asked me if I loved you. I'm not sure what that even mattered to him. But I answered him. I'm not the one with anything to hide, after all." She took a long drink and just stared at her lemon wedge.

I cleared my throat, not wanting to interrupt, but too curious not to, "What did you tell him?"

"I told him yes; that I do love you. That sometimes that happens. Sometimes people do stupid things. Like traipsing out into the Valley of Fire to get married, to trade their agency for security. That was stupid of me. But that I had made a promise, swore vows, all of that. That even if I'd been unhappy, unwell, I'd still stuck by those. But him? They apparently didn't mean one fucking thing to him besides a way to keep me shackled.

"And the worst of it? I didn't hate my life with him. I wasn't happy, but who the fuck is? I'd even gotten to a place where I'd forgiven him for so many trespasses, and the meds were actually helping. But some scars.... Well, I don't know what all you listened in on in my therapy sessions, but some scars never did scab over. They're still deep wounds, open and festering. I still feel like that sad, pathetic woman who couldn't even take care of herself or her child, and when he was done with me he just left me on that floor. He left me sobbing and broken, until I was numb and done and gone.

"He never even tried to argue any of it. It was like a game to him, and he'd finally been caught cheating. I confessed I'd been tempted. But that I'd never truly cheated. That I hadn't even kissed you. And yeah, I know, that one morning. But in my defense I was trying to get you to stop...anyway.

"I told Robert I was too broken for you. That I'd just make you miserable. That I love you too much to do that to you. He told me to say goodbye to you, but to take the night. That it was only fair, after all. He said he didn't want me to be miserable, but that he couldn't let me go. That if I needed to go, I had to be the one to do it. He wasn't going to do that for me. Even though he fully admits that he owes me for the...for the things he's done to me in the past."

"Claire...."

"I told him that was just him pushing me out the door. Desperately hoping I'd throw myself back at it before he could close it in some frantic last ditch hope that I'd realize what I have. I know what I have! I also know what I don't."

She finished her drink, staring angrily at the wall across from her. I wasn't sure how to ask what I needed to know. But somehow I managed it.

"Claire, are you here to say goodbye?" Having her for one night would never be enough for me, but I don't think I could ever refuse her.

"What?! Oh, god no! The kids are at my parents for the weekend. I handed Robert the divorce papers on my way out the door. I...." She seemed like she wanted to cry. Or was about to, at the very least.

"I should have known, really. There were so many signs, thinking back of course. Whenever I'd come into the room, he'd do this thing, all the time, where he'd quickly scroll away from whatever was on his phone or close whatever he was looking at in a big hurry. I asked him about it once. Big mistake." There was a chaos of emotions swirling around in her watery eyes. She'd been loyal to a fault. I'd say foolishly so, but admittedly I had a personal stake in the game. Maybe I'd been selfish, but I'd take the ugly truth to a pretty lie any day. Then again, who was I to make that call for her?

I fixed her another drink, noticing her wipe away at a few paltry tears when she thought I wasn't looking. This woman had clearly cried enough for that relationship, but I understood. She'd invested so much, only to be stabbed in the back, after having her brain fucked with for years. I had a million questions, being inquisitive by nature, but it was clear she needed this outlet right now, not to be grilled on specifics.

"You know, for the last few years he's refused to fuck me in the ass. Not even on my birthday. It's always been my favorite thing, ever since I first tried it. I just love how you can feel absolutely everything, every little tremble and shudder and surge. And he just wouldn't. Said it wasn't his thing." She sat there for a moment before she seemed to remember herself. "Oh geez! Sorry, Brian." I loved every version of Claire, especially the ones she let out when she forgot to hide them like this. "Probably more than you wanted to know." I wanted to argue with her, but I wasn't sure with which part to begin.

She sat back on my sofa and stared up at the ceiling, back to her heavy musings. I eased myself back into an easy lounge, looking over at her, watching her. She turned to me sheepishly, holding my gaze for a moment before nervously asking me, "Right?"

Two weeks ago this woman was a wife loyal to a fault. Now all of that, at least the last thread of a reason for her devotion, had been severed. And I was the one who'd pulled out the scissors. I knew it was for the best, but I didn't know if she did. I didn't know where to be with it. I'm not the good guy in anyone's story. I was in love with someone else's wife, legally. I would have gladly had her even before, taken her, cheating husband or no. And now to have her next to me, looking at me that way, after I'd been so hungry for her for so long.

"Claire...." I wanted her to be the aggressor, if only to know she didn't hate me, blame me for the truth I'd exposed. Looking into those cerulean eyes, so filled with doubt and uncertainty and a desperation to be wanted, she was never going to make that first move. Even knowing I wanted her, she needed to feel it, feel pursued, desired.

I wanted to give her everything he had refused her.

Moving with a heated purpose, I put my hands in her hair, passionately embracing her. Her breath caught realizing my answer, and what was about to unfold. As I brought my face closer to her, the weight of the moment came crashing down upon me.

"Claire, are you sure?" Yeah, her soon to be ex-husband was a piece of shit. But at this point I had a pretty good understanding of who Claire was, or wanted to be. She didn't like to let other people change her. I didn't want her rushing anything because of his actions or how he'd treated her. "I don't want you to regret this. Don't do this just because he's a cheating prick." Oceans of tumultuous emotion, her eyes washed over me and implicitly she understood.

"Whether or not I do this, if it's because of him, then he still has control over me. I want this. I want you, Brian. I have for—"

Pressing my lips to hers, feeling that warmth again that I'd been chasing for far longer than I'd realized- it was precious, and I was greedy. I held her to me forcefully as I savored her lips, her tongue, her taste. We had so much lost time to make up for, we could have spent a week simply holding one another tightly, lips connecting us, tongues gliding, speaking enough for us, and it still wouldn't have been enough time.

Holding her even then, I knew- this wasn't going to be an easy, fairy tale ending.

Her hands left me as she wiggled about with something, a moment later breaking our kiss. Swiftly she pulled her blouse and bra off as one. Seeing her bare like that, her exposed chest slowly rising and falling- I muttered expletives under my breath like a god-fearing man about to meet his end. Her cheeks, neck, and chest, all normally such a smooth, creamy complexion, now impressively flushed. But hearing my words, the way she smiled at me, I now understood why entire wars were fought over women.

Pulling her back to me on the sofa, my hands began exploring her silky smooth skin and ample breasts as she hurriedly unbuttoned my shirt. She kept kissing my neck as I kept trying to get back to her nipple from that other morning. At some point it became a game to her, to keep it just out of my lip's reach. "Tease," I laughed into her ear playfully.

She froze and her jaw dropped slightly, almost trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Hey, no sorry! I was only, I don't know. Expressing affection, playing, enjoying what you were doing. You know?" I thought she was about to cry again. I couldn't believe the damage this guy had done to her. "Maybe we shouldn't...."

"It's been over a decade, an actual, literal decade, since I've wanted someone like this, and could have them. I guess I've forgotten what it's like to be actively desired and not just expected or taken for granted. Does that make sense?" I didn't know half, or nearly any of what she'd been through, but I'd take her word for it.

Kissing her with the passion of a man determined to make up for that past decade, I tumbled us down the length of the sofa. I felt like a teenager again, making out with a hot girl that I'd somehow managed to talk out of her shirt and bra as she moved and moaned underneath me, her hands grabbing hold of me, desperate for me.

Her noises were driving me wild as I pressed myself against her, kissing her, luxuriating in her. When she started grinding up against me, it was all too much. "Come on," my brusque voice commanded. She nodded excitedly, as impatient as I was.

I led her to my bedroom, pulling my button up off and removing my undershirt as we went. She whistled at me, and whether she was playing or not, I didn't care. I grabbed her, finally pinning her against that wall as I pressed our bare flesh together, kissing her deeply and unbuttoning her pants. I slid a hand into her panties, over her smooth pussy, dipping a finger into her slippery folds.

She moaned into my mouth as I groaned into hers. Another finger joined the first, diving in as deeply as her clothing and our angles would allow. I needed more. I pulled my fingers back to play with her aroused clit. She leaned against me at the sensation, distracted, I was finally able to get to that nipple. I'd only wanted to mischievously scrape my teeth, but I ended up biting down a bit too hard. Almost instantly her body started to shake and tremble as she let out a low, almost whimper. I could feel her pulsating and really, I had only one thought on my mind at that point.

She caught her breath and shimmied her pants down, showing off a revealing pair of emerald-green, lace panties. She had to have worn them for me, knowing they were my favorite color. She planned on me seeing them. I guess she didn't blame me, or if she did, was happy for it. She started to pull those down and I stopped her. "Leave them," I groaned. Her normally innocent, sweet smile transformed into this rogue, impish grin. I really couldn't fucking wait to get her into my bed.

Walking into my bedroom, finally, I grabbed for her, and she grabbed for my belt. She unbuckled it nimbly, freeing my aching cock with the dexterity of a woman who hadn't been fucked properly in over a decade. I was still kissing her, hands still lost in her hair, holding her head, when she began stroking my cock. I could sense the excitement and elation flowing through her as she felt my girth and length.

I'd seen the pictures of her husband; knew how I measured up. I wasn't surprised at her reaction. All I was in that moment was eager. And that's how I proceeded. Moving her to the bed, stripping the rest of my clothes off. I wanted to taste her. She'd been so easy to make cum in the hallway, I wanted to see how long it would take with my tongue. Moving that beautiful lace aside, I was on her for all of ten seconds before she pulled me off.