Just Pretty Glass

"Brian, please...." As she pulled me towards her, it seemed as though eager was really more of a mutual vibe.

We were both already breathing heavy, the anticipation killing us. I wasn't sure if I should draw it out or put us both out of our misery quickly. I decided on the latter, my reasoning having precious little to do with how erotic her flushed and slick cunt looked alongside that green lace, or how she was digging her fingernails into me, wantonly moving her hips, arching her chest. No, I drove my cock into her warm, tight pussy, all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust, because once I felt a tiny bit of her, I couldn't help but take the rest.

I came crashing down to her, giving her a minute to adjust to actually being filled and stretched, as I took in the pure ecstasy on her face. When she noticed me watching her, I kissed her again, before I slowly started to make love to her. Her moans were wild and primal and I wasn't sure how long I was going to last at this pace. It'd been quite a while since I'd had any actual company when I came. Liz had been the most recent, and she was never what I'd call vocal.

Anything this woman wanted I'd give her. She had but to ask, and if I knew about it she didn't need to even do that. I know she wouldn't have complained if we fucked like this for five minutes or fifty. But she had mentioned something else. Something she hadn't had in years. She might not have had any sex she found intimate or enjoyable for a decade, but she wanted my cock in her ass. And I wanted to make her happy. (And I also wanted my cock in her ass.)

Reluctantly pulling out of her, sympathetic to her expression of dismay, I grabbed the lube out of the top drawer of my nightstand and came back to suck on her clit for a quick second before she tried to buck me off of her. "Brian!" She'd noticed the lube and knew I had her. It made it all the cuter that she'd tried to admonish me for going after her overly sensitive clit. I got the impression it wasn't something she'd had to deal with much.

She was primed and would likely cum again quickly. I wanted her to have a bit more of a ride before wearing her out too much. Lubing up my index and ring finger, adding a healthy glob to the end, I began massaging her hole. It tightened under my touch at first, gradually relaxing against me, allowing me entry, I worked one finger in and then the other. Stretching her out, lubing her up, my cock aching the whole time as she writhed in pleasure and repeatedly moaned out my name.

I was practically drooling by the time she was ready. Her whole body was glistening with sweat, and what have you. Lubing my cock up slightly, I placed it at her entrance. She looked as though she was holding her breath, waiting, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured time alone. I pushed through her tight opening, hearing her groan her pleasure. Making eye contact, I held her gaze as I slowly worked the rest of my cock into her. Watching her eyes tremble, her mouth quiver, both hearing and feeling her appreciations.

"Claire...fuck...you feel so fucking good." I'd held onto one leg as I pressed into her, now I bent down with that leg in the way. She easily accommodated it, flexible beyond what I'd imagined, bringing it against her to let me down to kiss her.

"Thank you...Brian," she moaned. It felt almost inane to hear in bed. But it was also hot as fuck, feeling her squeezing onto my dick, writhing under me, so appreciative of what I was giving her, caught up in such rapture. It stabbed at me to know how little it took to make this woman happy.

"Tell me...what you...want." My fingers were digging into the thigh I held onto between us as I fucked her ass. I was going slowly, or trying to, her whole body rocking with the motion, her beautiful milky tits swaying roughly with my force, their pinkish adornments, gloriously hard and distinguished. She was like a goddess before me, letting me do whatever the hell I wanted with her.

She bit her bottom lip, tossing her head back at my question. "Claire...say it."

"Harder!" she screamed. "Rougher!" I started in without hesitation. Her moans turned into a blubbering cadre of yesyesyes in ecstatic approval. I threw her leg down to the side, grabbing her hips, pulling her roughly up onto all fours. She squeaked with excitement as she took up the position. I didn't start slowly this time. I had her hair balled up in one fist, my fingers digging into her hip with the other hand, and the sounds of our bodies slapping together quickly filled the room. She started to cum, her ass squeezing my cock even tighter. I had to slow down, or I was going to shoot my load with everything that was going on already.

As close as I was, I still wanted one thing. I wanted to hold her while I came deep inside her. Claire wouldn't begrudge me that, or anything I imagine. Picking her up in my arms, I laid down on the bed with her curled on her side atop of me. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me like a woman possessed. Grabbing her ass with one hand, my cock with the other, I firmly slid my length back inside her and held her body against mine as I moved my knees up and again started thrusting. Feeling her tongue against mine, her weight on me as her ass grabbed my dick, taking all of it.....

"Claire...I'm gonna...."

"Yes, babe! Fill me—" Her moans cut her words short before I groaned out my own climax and started to fill her ass with rope after rope of my cum. She quivered against me as my cock twitched, her ass squeezing me perfectly, milking out the last of me as she nuzzled into my neck.

After I caught my breath, I let her legs go, and eventually she was laying mostly on top of me still, but somewhat on the bed as well. She fell asleep like that. With me holding her. I didn't want to wake her. So I lay there, thinking of her, some things she'd said, and of our possible future.

When she woke a short while later, her hair disheveled, her demeanor lighter and happier than I'd ever known it. I foolishly thought I had something to do with it. Still, I had to know something.

"You said something earlier." She looked at me apprehensively, though somewhat humorously, knowing me as well as I knew her. "You were wrong." She worked to stifle a laugh, not knowing what I was about to say. "You wouldn't, won't, make me miserable. You're not too broken for me, or anyone. That's not a thing. I don't think anything could ever break you, really. And even if it could, you'd still be you. And, I love you." I hadn't said it earlier, after she confessed it first. Maybe I should have, before all this had happened.

She was silent as she repeatedly traced the faint line that remained on my forearm from that letter opener/dagger several months ago.

Her words came slowly, almost as if they were dulled, muted, numb, "Yeah, Miss Marie gave me her spiel about diamonds in horse shit, too. You're a smart man, Brian, but you're an idiot if you think I'm anything but pretty glass. Very breakable, pretty glass. I'm not strong enough to be a diamond, for you or anyone. I do break. Again and again and again. It's like I was made to be broken. You don't know what I'm like, really like when I'm broken. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I do need someone like him, with all his shit, he puts up with me."

"Puts up with you?! Claire, do you hear yourself? Even just literally, it's like the life drains out of you whenever he comes up. This man has been fucking with your head probably since he met you, and now you've gotten so used to that abuse, anything else feels uncomfortable, unsafe to you. Being alone would be better than being with someone who treats you like that and then leaves you on the floor in a hopeless puddle of a human being. I don't give a fuck what he had going on. There's no excuse for that.

"You need to realize your worth, Claire. For your own sake, and your kids'."

"And how do I do that? With you? A man that intentionally listened in on my therapy sessions? Admittedly it's a joke to call them that now, but the point stands. Not to mention other things you thought you were listening in on. And besides all that, I think I need to figure out how to stand on my own for a bit. And you're absolutely right, not just for my sake."

There was no reasoning with her, though I tried.

We both softened with one another after that. Both knowing this was actually a goodbye, at least for a time. We spent the weekend making bittersweet love and at times, hate fucking one another, knowing this was the right thing for everyone, but both still hating it.

I asked Claire if she was going to turn Robert in for fucking a patient. She was conflicted, but ultimately decided against it. The woman in question was being seen for anxiety and essentially, loneliness, having gotten married too young. She was paying Robert $200 an hour to chit chat about her sexless marriage. At some point she started getting her money's worth, apparently. It gave Claire leverage with the kids, and that was all she really wanted. Our state tends to favor whatever parent can provide more for the children, and in this case, currently, that would be Robert. Claire didn't want a dime from him for herself. All she wanted was for him to keep paying for the kids' independent school. I think he would have done that regardless. He was a shit husband and partner, but not a bad father. Not yet, anyway.

She would have turned her therapist in, but in her naivety she couldn't think of an effective way to do so. Not without putting Robert's career in jeopardy, which would risk the kids' education and her leverage. She couldn't. I could. Guys like Robert that abuse and manipulate a good, loyal partner don't understand what they're giving up in life, or what they're taking. Robert tried to break her, but her therapist had her convinced it was all her fault. She never sought any actual help because she'd been told there was none to be had. I wasn't sure which was worse.

What I was sure of was that I'd never touch Robert, not without Claire's blessing. That could get messy fast, and she meant too much to me to put our relationship at risk for that satisfaction, gratifying though it would be. Her therapist, though? Well, Claire didn't need to know about him. There was no rhyme or reason why she'd ever reach out to him again. Not that much of anything would come up.

She was going to stop leasing that office. She'd work from home in the small apartment she'd started renting. I told her she needed to stay in the house or at least take some support from him. But she's as stubborn as they come, that one. She refused to risk or limit her freedom now that she'd gotten it back. Her suicidal ideation, both passive and active, disappeared completely after she moved out. Walking away from the things Robert had given her, she'd never been happier.

She stopped by the office about a month after our weekend together. Her and Marie still spoke regularly. That was the only way I ever knew she was okay. Luckily Marie was a very thorough, and now more well paid informant. In all fairness, she was overdue a raise. If Marie hadn't been in the office I think Claire and I would have fucked one another's brains out again, right there. I know that's all I could think about when I saw her.

The feeling seemed mutual. She hasn't stopped by since.

***

Last night I picked out a diamond for that woman. The one who always felt like she was just pretty glass, whose eyes pull at me like the ocean.

Claire's divorce will have been finalized for six months this coming Friday. We haven't actually started dating yet. Truth be told I haven't even seen her since that day in my office when Marie couldn't read the damn room.

Yesterday Claire finally texted me:

I figured it out, Brian. You'll love this. Marie was wrong! (Plz don't tell her I said that.) People aren't glass or diamonds. We just shine differently for the right person. And it's awful hard to shine when you're covered in shit, no matter how hard you try. I'm still not sure about not being broken or being too broken, but I do know I want to shine for you. Anyway, all that to say - Hey, would you like to grab some lunch tomorrow?