Things Past Pt. 02

I fell into his arms, fighting back the tears threatening to spill from me. He was my hero, as odd as it sounds. This whole situation was unbearable for me. Imagine how it felt for him. I am not sure I can. I am not sure I would want to.

I reluctantly broke free from his grip and looked away.

"I am so sorry about this, Jonathan," I whispered. "I wish I... I wish..."

He shushed me, took me back into his arms, covered my face with gentle kisses.

"Go on," he sighed. "Everything is set. Don't disappoint the man."

With one last desperate glance at my husband, I stepped out of the house, into a taxi and headed for my illicit rendezvous with Frank Williams.

The hotel was much nicer than the one he had chosen; no surprises there. The man was sleazy, of course his choice of hotel would match. The room was bigger, lighter and much more luxuriously furnished. There was a huge TV dominating one wall, a plasma affair, massive screen. I nodded approvingly at that and familiarised myself with the controls while I waited. There were a few other things to take care of in preparation for Frank's arrival and I busied myself with them all, silently, wordlessly.

I sat on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk stockings, a matching lace bra and brief set and a lace choker. I had arranged my hair into two little pigtails for "Daddy". I intended to meet him like this. He would walk into the room, see me there, ready for him. He would be thrilled.

Sure enough, at exactly 19:02 and 28 seconds, there was a familiar loud knock at the door. My eyes darted around the room, making sure everything was as it should be. Satisfied, I struck a sensual pose and called out.

"Who is it?"

"Who do you fucking think, whore?" came the snarled response. "Stop fucking about and let me in."

"Oh Mr Frank," My best little girl's voice. "The door is open. Please come in and get me."

The door burst open with his usual finesse and he stood there, looking at me, mouth hanging open.

"Well look at you!" he exclaimed. "Did my little girl dress up for Daddy? Looking hot, whore. Now THAT's the Terri I remember."

He approached me. I sat forward.

"What is Mr Frank going to do to his little girl?" I asked, making sure to pout ridiculously.

"Mr Frank is going to fuck you any which way he wants," he leered down at me. "In any hole he wants."

"Oh but Mr Frank!" I said, drawing my knees up to my chest. "What if...what if I say I don't want you to?"

"Then I will anyway," he growled, pushing my knees roughly back down. "Unless you want everyone to know just what my little girl is? Do you?"

"Mr Frank is blackmailing me," I pouted even more ridiculously.

"Oh for fuck's sake..this again? Yes, ok? yes I am blackmailing you. Shut up and get ready."

He started to undo his pants, a ritual I was heartily sick of. Once again, as always, his cock sprang from the cloth, already hard. He took another step closer to me, his cock inches from my face.

"Get to work, whore," he growled.

I leaned forward, lips parted around the head of his cock, not touching, teasingly close. I leaned back, closing my mouth, smiling up at him.

"I don't wanna," I said defiantly. He gave me a thunderous look and raised his hand as if to strike me. I just looked back at him, defiantly, almost daring him. "Your wife wouldn't like it," I added mischievously.

"You are trying my patience, whore," he all but shouted, raising his hand higher to threaten me. "That cunt doesn't know and who gives a fuck if she did anyway?"

"I give a fuck."

He froze. I laughed. I couldn't help it. What a sight it must have been. The man stood there, trousers around his ankles, hand raised, spinning slowly round to face Sandra, his wife, who had stepped out of the bathroom.

"I give a fuck very much," she repeated, her voice bubbling with rage.

"What the...?" Frank looked from his wife, to me, back to his wife. "I can explain!"

Sandra gave him a cold look but cocked a brow, inviting him to do so.

"It was her," he pointed accusingly at me. "She... she seduced me. I tried to resist but she..."

"Oh shut up, Frank. I heard everything. Do you think I am stupid or something?"

"No!" he lied. "It's not like that. Really!"

"That stupid cunt won't find out. She is the dumbest woman I ever met."

That came from the TV. I had set it up to play the video I had recorded from his last visit. Franks face had turned a violent shade of red.

"So you two bitches got together, huh?" he blustered. "Well so what? I can still make your life a misery. What happens when Little Johnny finds out his wife is a whore?"

"Leave my stupid wife for me to worry about. You worry about Little Johnny finding out"

"I am not sure," said Jonathan, stepping out of the bathroom. "What does happen when ... ahem... Little Johnny... finds out?"

Frank looked suitably shocked. I stood up and stood next to Jonathan who put his arm protectively around my shoulder. I was touched to feel Sandra's arm slipping just as protectively around my waist. The three of us glared at Frank.

"What you have done here is reprehensible," Jonathan continued in his very clipped, very precise and calm voice. "The way you treated this young woman, my wife, is beyond anything I have ever heard of. You disgust me. You disgust everyone. You are a cheat, a coward, a liar and probably the most worthless person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. You should go to prison for raping my wife. Yes, raping. You forced her through the means of blackmail. That, my unfortunate fool, is rape!"

Frank looked around wildly. He was cornered and caught and he knew it. A light dimly shone in his eyes for a moment.

"You won't do that," he sneered at last. "It would be the end of your career. Once old Preacher WHite finds out your wife is a whore..."

"You know," said Mr White, stepping out of the bathroom too now. "I was in the army as a younger man. Yorkshire Light Infantry and proud. I killed men, I am less proud to say. Does that mean I am still a killer? I like to think not."

"But...but..." Frank stammered, totally bewildered now. I smiled. It was time for him to feel what it was like. "But..she is a whore!"

"Was a whore," corrected Mr White. "Past tense. Samantha made some mistakes in her youth, as did we all. I will not condemn this fine lady for the mistakes of a young woman. Our Saviour had his Mary Magdalene. Jonathan has his Samantha. You know..."

"Shall I fetch you a pulpit?" I asked, smiling happily at Mr White.

He laughed. Jonathan and Sandra laughed. I laughed. Frank did not.

Jonathan removed his arm from my shoulder and stepped up to Frank.

"Pull your pants up, you are looking rather embarrassed," he said calmly.

Frank did so.

"I have taken the liberty of cleaning out your desk," said Mr White. "There is no need for you to return to the office. You are now fired, of course. Oh, and I shouldn't bother trying to find a job with any of our competitors. Word gets around."

Before Frank could respond, Sandra stepped up. She placed a piece of paper in his unresisting hand.

"That is the papers to file for divorce. Please sign it. My solicitor will be in touch." She took off her wedding ring and threw it at him. "I hate you."

Frank had stood there, silently, taking all of this in. He turned a hateful eye towards me.

"You whore!" he yelled.

He may have said more. He may have. If my Jonathan, my husband, had not punched the man right on the jaw, sending him flying backwards into an ungainly heap on the floor, he may have said more.

"You do NOT talk to my wife like that ever again," Jonathan maintained his calmness. I have no idea how he does it. "In fact, you may not ever speak to wife again at all."

"That's assault!" Frank cried. "I will have the law on you. You assaulted me!"

"Actually, no," Jonathan smiled coldly. "That was battery but by all means, call the police. I am sure they would love to hear every last detail. I suspect my simple act of self defence will seem unimportant in face of the blackmail and rape charges."

"Self defence?" Frank looked incredibly confused now. His eyes darted from one to another of the small crowd looking down at him.

"Yes," Jonathan's famous composure finally broke. He leaped on the man, hauling him up by his collar. His face was inches from Franks and he hissed, spat out the words, his veins pulsing with pure rage.

"Self defence," he spat. "Because if I hadn't hit you, I would have fucking killed you. She is MY WIFE, you fucking coward. My wife! How dare you come into our lives and do this?: How fucking dare you? I so want to kill you now, you piece of shit. So yes, self-defence."

Jonathan looked up. My hand on his shoulder. Mr White stepped forward, his hand joining mine.

"I think you should leave now." Mr White looked sternly at Frank Williams. "I think you should go and keep going. There is nothing for you in this city. Go."

And Frank Williams, a broken man, all the wind knocked out of his blustery sails, took one last look around the room then walked out of my life forever.

_______________________

It was a few hours later. Sandra had left, comforted by Mr White. He shook hands with Jonathan, hugged me tightly, nodded and left us alone.

It was Jonathan who had brought in Mr White. I had protested because I know him to be a deeply religious man. I thought he would condemn me immediately. How wrong I was. He had sat on our sofa while we told him what was happening. The man wept. He wept for me. I wept right along with him. He hugged me, told me how sorry he was I had to go through all of this. Not one word of condemnation passed that wonderful man's lips . I told him then that I had never known my father but if I had a choice of father's, I would choose Mr White every time. He was so pleased with that.

I said I admire Jonathan for his strong will, his composure and his precise, meticulous nature. It was Jonathan who insisted I let Frank fuck me that one last time. It was hard for him, I know. He had set up the camera in the bedroom, told me to get Frank to admit to blackmail. He had told me to do whatever it takes to get this on camera, knowing full well he was telling me to fuck him. It may be questionable and morally doubtful but you have to admire his strength. I do.

We thought about staying at the hotel. We had paid for the room, after all, but we decided no, we didn't belong there. We went home in a comfortable relieved silence. It was over.

That night, Jonathan held me in bed.

"Now," he cleared his throat. "I have no interest in whatever tricks Terri had."

I looked up at him.

"But I would quite like to find out what tricks my Sam has." He grinned.

I slithered down under the covers and I showed him every trick in the book.