The Darkside of Amanda Ch. 01

John's first reaction was embarrassment. He'd fooled himself into thinking he was being more discreet with his gawking at her chest. Then he realized her question was more of teasing one. He chuckled as he turned and walked back to the kitchen table. "'Liking' isn't the right word. But yes. I'm liking what I'm seeing very much." He sat back down and continued his story.

When he got to the part of his story that involved Shannon, he decided to give her as much detail as possible for two reasons. First, he wanted to let her know upfront his struggles with being in a relationship. But then he also realized if he told her about his failed relationship, that gave him the right to ask her about her failed marriage.

John finished his story just as Amanda was dishing up dinner. "OK. Your turn." John said as he began to devour his meal.

"My turn for what?" Amanda asked, feeling the anxiety rising in her. What did he want to know about her.

"Tell me about your ex." Then he looked at her so she knew he was serious. "I want to know you better. Knowing what you went through with him helps me better understand you."

Amanda's anxiety shot through the roof. "I don't know what to tell you. He was a demanding, almost narcissistic, ungrateful, picky guy. Don't ask me why I stayed with him for twenty years."

John did some quick math in his head and realized she wasn't in her mid to late thirties. "Wait! What?! You're not thirty-six or thirty-seven?"

Amanda burst out laughing. "No! But thank you if you thought that's how old I am. I'm forty-five." Then she realized it might be an issue for him. A look of sadness washed over her face. "Is my age a problem for you?" She was already hoping they'd be more than just casual acquaintances.

John threw his hands up in defense. "No! No! Not at all! I'm just shocked. You're a gorgeous, attractive woman I took for being in your mid-thirties."

Amanda couldn't stop smiling as a result of his compliment. "Thank you. That's the nicest thing I've heard in a long time."

Then John thought he'd better come clean, in case she didn't know their age difference. "You know I'm only thirty-five."

"I thought you might be younger than me. But I don't care. It's just a number."

John gave her the most intense stare he could. "Good. Because the more I get to know you, the more I want to know you."

Amanda felt herself blushing. "I want that too." She responded softly.

"So tell me about your ex-husband." John wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily.

Amanda stared down at her plate as she organized her thoughts. "It was good the first few years. I tried to be a good wife. It wasn't all his fault." She began to ramble trying to avoid talking about the dark needs within her own psyche. "At first, we were good together. He did his best to please me. But it was never enough. He kept trying and trying. Then finally one day I think he just gave up."

John reached across the table and grabbed her hand. He could tell she was struggling with opening up to him. He laughed to himself. 'How ironic?' He thought to himself. This is probably what Shannon went through with me. "What do you mean he just gave up?"

Amanda felt her reluctance to open up to John diminishing. It was as if this wall she had built up to protect her dirty, dark secret was crumbling. "He gave up trying to satisfy me sexually." She laid her fork down, and buried her face in her hands. "I think I'm a freak." She started to sob.

John took control. It was just part of his nature. He grabbed her two hands in his. "Look at me." Tears were beginning to stream down her face as she looked at him. "We're going to finish our meal and then go into the living room, where you're going to tell me why you think you're a freak." He chuckled. "Trust me on this one Amanda. I've been a cop for thirteen years now. I've seen a lot of freaks. You're not a freak. Now let's eat before all your hard work gets cold. Then we're going to talk."

By the time they walked into the living room, Amanda had already downed two glasses of wine and was working on her third. Her speech wasn't slurred yet. But her inhibitions were dropping like a rock.

"Why do you see yourself as some kind of freak?" John asked as he leaned across the couch and laid his hand on her arm. "We've all got some hang-ups and issues Amanda. I guarantee you, there's nothing you can tell me I haven't heard before."

Amanda stared at his hand as it held her arm. The few times they had made physical contact was making her yearn for more. It had been so long. "Sam wasn't a bad husband. Like I said before, at first we were really good together. I think our biggest problem was me. At least that's what Sam convinced me of. He thought I was a freak." She paused to take another drink of wine. The wine was really starting to take affect now. "Sex has never been something that's come easy for me." As soon as she said that, she realized how John might interpret that. She looked at him fearfully as she grabbed his hand. "Don't get me wrong! I enjoy sex." She really wanted him to understand her. "I really enjoyed pleasing my husband. At least early on in our marriage. Toward the end, not so much." She couldn't bring herself to telling John she'd enjoy pleasing him. "But I have a hard time enjoying it for myself." She looked down, embarrassed by the admission.

"You mean you have a hard time climaxing?" John asked softly.

"Yes." She replied softly, staring down at her glass of wine.

"So your ex told you you were a freak. He was just an asshole." John asked as he reached over and lifted her head with his hand under her chin. "You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about with me. I'm single because I can't keep a relationship."

"It's not that I can't climax. It's what it takes to get me there."

John sat staring at her waiting for her to continue. The two just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before John pushed the issue. "So what does it take?"

"I have a hard time talking about it." Amanda said with a shaking voice.

John backed off. "OK. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

She felt her trust in this man growing with each passing minute they spent together. The last man she had confessed this to was Sam. And he branded her a freak for it. "No!" She didn't want him to back off. "I want to tell you!" Her words were starting to slur as the wine really kicked in. She grabbed his hand. "Make me tell you!" She almost pled with him.

Her response took John off guard. But things were starting to take shape in his mind with what she struggled with. He took the glass of wine from her hand and set it on the coffee table. Then he took both her hands in his. "Tell me what you need to tell me, because you're not going anywhere till you do."

The flood-gates of Amanda's mind just opened up. "It started when I was in college. One weekend I was invited to a frat party. I was so naïve and stupid. I was so flattered to be invited to this party. I thought there were going to be a lot of girls there. I knew something was wrong the minute I walked in the front door of the house and didn't see any other girls there. They kept telling me other girls were coming. When I told them I wanted to leave they grabbed me and carried me upstairs." There were no tears or sobbing as she retold her story. Just a numbness and a distance in her voice. "They passed me among themselves all night long. I don't know how many of them there were."

The sadness in John's eyes and voice were evident to Amanda. "I'm sorry you went through that." The cop in him came out. "Did you press charges against them?"

"No. I knew it would only come back on me. One of them was the President's son." She reached for her glass of wine and took a long drink. "But that doesn't matter. I'm at peace with the past now. I can't change it." She chuckled sarcastically. "But I guess in some ways I'm not at peace with it. Something changed in me after that." She took another long drink, then handed the glass to John. "More please!" She said with a weak smile.

John took her glass into the kitchen and finished off the bottle, pouring it in. When he returned, he knew she was drunk. But he handed her the glass anyway. He sat back down and waited for her to continue.

"Where was I? Oh yeah." She slurred. "I can't get it off unless I feel like I'm being taken that way." She couldn't bring herself to use the word 'rape.' "The loss of control. The rough handling. The abuse. I can't explain it. I just need that to climax." She reached over and laid her hand on John's thigh. "Don't get me wrong." Her speech was almost comical now. "I do enjoy sex. And I enjoy it gentle." She giggled as she cupped her breast and held it up. "I really like having my puppies played with." She grabbed his hand and put it over her breast. "Would you like to play with my puppies?" She asked giggling.

John gently pulled his hand away smiling. "Ask me that again when you're sober."

"Okee dokee!" Amanda slurred.

John took the glass from her before she fell unconscious on the couch. He sat there for several minutes watching her fall unconscious. He finally laid her on the couch. Then covered her with the blanket draped over the back of it. He looked down at her smiling. "I've never taken advantage of a drunk woman. Don't plan on starting now."