When it Came Through the Door Pt. 14

Weeks passed quickly, as they do, and I'd gotten into the habit of working my own hours. Omar didn't seem to care, and I wondered how long I could do that for without being pulled into his office for a 'reality check' chat.

My answer came by way of an email one Thursday morning, several weeks AH. AH was the acronym Jackson had given my life After Helena. While absurd, it was also funny and typical Jackson, so it kind of stuck.

"Hi Roger, thank you for the tremendous work you've been doing. In fact, it seems that this new mode of working seems to bring out the best in you. Productivity is up 23 percent and I've had to hire two new associate engineers as you know.

I'd like to have a chat with you about your future within the company at your earliest convenience. I can see there's space on Monday morning at 10.am. I'll go ahead and book this in, and perhaps you and I can get a coffee and discuss this in person?"

I immediately declined the meeting and called Omar.

He sounded nervous.

"Hey," I started.

"Hi, Roger. Is everything okay?" he sounded worried.

I smiled, realising it must seem like I was upset.

"Yes, thanks. Your email..." I could almost hear him gulp.

"Yes?" he sounded terrified.

"You sent me an email proposing some changes, I'm assuming they're good changes, and you want me to wait until Monday morning to find out?!"

He gave me a nervous laugh. "Well, sorry Roger. It's just that, well... your calendar is full, and..."

"...Omar," I cut him off, "these conversations are far more important. How about we do it now. Absolutely nothing that can't wait. I'll come into the office, and we can have this chat."

To be fair to him, I didn't give him much choice.

I went in, and he offered me a percentage increase in pay, and alluded to a partnership deal with the directors. Figuring that I held all the cards, I thanked him and appeared flattered, but told him I was aware that I was doing all the work and while grateful they'd hired new juniors, I had asked for those juniors a year earlier. And I pointed out that most of the new business we were being awarded was due to referrals from my existing clients, who were very happy with the plans and the work we had delivered.

Omar said he'd have to get back to me when I told him what I proposed. I worked that day from my desk, went for beers with the colleague I used to enjoy drinks with, but listening to him whine about his wife, and his boring life, I realised I had a lot less in common with him than BH.

After two beers, I told him I had to rush off. He seemed surprised, but I didn't care.

When I got home, I discovered that half my furniture had disappeared.

The note on the counter, held down by the key-ring that once belonged to Helena, with her keys removed for some inexplicable reason.

'Hey, I'm sorry, but still not ready to chat. I do love you, but I'm on a different journey now. One day you'll understand. I've only taken the bare minimum; I have a new job and it will take time to rebuild. I'm sure you'll understand. Hx'

I slid to the floor holding her note. It smelled like her. In fact I realised the house smelled like her. Her scent was everywhere.

She'd taken some spices - are you fucking kidding me?! And some canned food I'd bought, and half the bedding - all the good ones, and the coffee table we'd bought together, and the television - the only one, and her shoe cupboards which I'd bought, and the wine cabinet bar stools.

I felt like I'd been robbed.

By my own fucking wife.

I was instantly, very fucking angry.

She walked out of my life without giving me a reason, and then came back in when she felt like it and took away things without discussing it with me first.

MY THINGS.

I think the one thing that really pissed me off the most was that she'd taken canned food I'd bought a few days earlier with Jackson.

I rang Jackson.

"I thought you didn't like phone calls," there was a lot of noise behind him, "just a second...what?" he appeared to be talking to someone else. After some conversation that made no sense to me, "sorry Rog. What's up? Is everything okay?"

I was about to answer, but he interjected with, "oh wait, don't tell me. I think this - whatever it is, will need to be followed up with some wine and long discussion. I'm still at work, problems today, but can be at your place in..."

"Jackson!" I nearly shouted.

"Jesus! No need to yell Rog. What's going on?"

"She's been here." I started crying. No... I sobbed.

Jackson said he'd be right over, and told me to hang tight.

He arrived less than half hour later, with more wine, even though he knew I had plenty, because only days earlier, he'd used my credit card to buy plenty online, while I slept on the couch next to him.

"I ordered pizza - for me, relax, I haven't eaten, but you're still paying for it," he said, pushing through the door and dumping contents on the counter, then turning to study me.

"Fuck," was all he said when he looked into my eyes.

I sniffed, not sure what I wanted to say.

"You look like shit," he finished.

I laughed, unexpectedly, and sprayed snot and who knew what else off, but I used my arm to wipe that off, then headed off to the bathroom to wash my face and hands.

Jackson exclaimed a few times while I was in the bathroom. "What a bitch! She took the fucking coffee table!?" I walked into the room and watched him; he was staring at where the coffee table used to be.

"I miss that the most," I sniffed.

"Not the television? The Google Home Box? The bar stools, but the coffee table is the stand-out item you miss the most?" he seemed puzzled.

Jackson went off to the bedroom and came back with a weird cabinet that had always stood out in the bedroom. Helena had bought it and we'd both laughed, realising it didn't suit the house or anything we had. We'd intended to get rid of it, but it remained in the bedroom as our temporary storage, for when we threw our clothes off and couldn't be bothered putting them away.

"You said this was a pointless object you hadn't gotten around to throwing out," he said.

I nodded, but watched him carry it in.

He placed it where the coffee table used to be and it made me laugh.

Not because it was absurd, but because it sort of fit in a weird sort of way. It was almost the same length of the old coffee table, if perhaps slightly higher, and slightly wider.

Jackson sat on the couch with a wine in his hand and put his feet up on the coffee table.

I laughed out loud again, but went and sat next to him with a wine glass in my hand.

"I think she did you a favour mate," he said, as he toasted me with the glass.

I shook my head, then nodded. It was kind of weird how much better I liked this simple, wooden, grey coffee table that shouldn't have fit, but somehow looked perfect amidst the oak furniture and coffee-coloured couch.

We talked about Helena's visit, and both offered our perspective on it for a bit, but then felt like it was unnecessary.

"I think I'm done talking about her. Time to get over it," I said, and drank more wine.

When I looked over at Jackson, he was staring intently into my eyes.

"What?" I asked.

He smiled, then looked away.

"Oh no...what?" I asked.

He shrugged, and looked to where the old T.V. used to be. "Oh shit...she took that?"

I looked where he was looking, but realised what he'd done. "Nope, not that easy. Spit it out."

With a big sigh, he said, "I think Maria is going to leave me too. And if she doesn't, I think I'm going to leave her."

This wasn't a surprise. They were on the rocks for a long time, had stopped having sex completely and seemed to argue all the time. They'd gotten to the point where it seemed like they didn't even like each other anymore.

While I didn't ask Jackson about his sexcapades, I knew he was still playing by the side. My mind went back to that day I'd seen Jackson in the shopping centre with his wife, and how happy they'd looked and how confidently he'd guided her away, before detouring to the café to rendezvous with me. Little did I know then what I knew now, how unhappy Jackson had been all that time.

And nor did I realise how unhappy I'd been either.

"Damn. I'm sorry mate," I said.

"Meh, shit happens. Anyway, didn't want to come here and make this about me," he said, but then pizza arrived, and they asked for money.

I laughed.

"You're lucky I carry cash in these digital times!"

"Stop acting poor," he said for the benefit of the delivery boy, who seemed bored.

I paid, and took the pizza before closing the door.

"She gone?" I asked, bringing the pizza to the new coffee table.

"Is who gone?" he said, eyeing the pizza.

I didn't repeat myself, but lifted my shoulders and stared.

"Ahhh. Yeah, back to her parents. And by parents, I mean secret lover she refused to admit she's got."

"What!?" I flopped next to him on the couch with mouth wide.

"I don't know mate. It's possible. She's being weird."

I didn't want to state the obvious, but then he did it himself.

"For all I know she might have cottoned on to my secret side shit..."

He dug into pizza, and I had one slice.

"You must be really horny?" he asked me.

It took me a few seconds to register his comment, but when I did, I slowly turned my head to look at him. He had a look in his eye that I've seen before.

And as soon as he said that I realised that I hadn't had any form of sex in several weeks. In fact, the last time I'd had any intimacy had been when Jackson had blown me in the kitchen.

My dick stirred at the thought of it. You could say I almost jizzed in my pants when he looked at me that way.

But I looked away, because I didn't know if I was ready to do anything intimate with anyone, and was worried that I'd feel worse afterwards.

That is until Jackson put his hand on my leg.

His hand felt warm, gentle, and tender, and his fingers only very gently squeezed my leg.

When I turned to look at him, I suddenly found him attractive again.

His stubble had grown into a small beard, and his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his eyes looked desperate for a good night's sleep.

Suddenly all I wanted was Jackson naked on top of me.

I put my wine down and turned to him, and wasn't surprised to see he'd done the same. He was ready, and must have been ready for quite some time.

Our faces weren't even inches apart, then our lips connected, and it was a blur. We stood, hugged, and kissed, enjoying one another's kiss. It was both rampant and urgent, like that first time in the toilet cubicle.

My dick strained against my pants and trousers, begging to be released, and I felt his rock-hard cock push against mine.

Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe it was just getting caught up in the moment, but our clothes vanished and I found myself in my bed naked, with Jackson on top of me, passionately kissing me. His hands caressed the back of my head; his fingers massaging my neck tenderly as his tongue licked mine, and our lips intertwined intimately, familiarly.

Jackson's enormous dick rubbed alongside mine, and onto my belly, while he kissed me, licked my ears, kissed my neck, then licked at my lips and pushed his insistent tongue into my mouth and forced my tongue to connect with his.

The kissing went on for a long time, occasionally I'd move to the top position and gyrate my hips deeper into his, pressing our cocks together so firmly that the pressure felt incredible. Just feeling his dick rubbing against mine made me close, and his hairy chest and muscled pecs pressed against mine while his arms pressed me tighter onto him.

Eventually, he sucked my dick, but I had to push his head away, because I wanted to nut too quickly. He came up, wearing a big mischievous grin on his face, eyes twinkling as his cock continued to rub against mine, licking my lips tenderly with his tongue, little, tiny kisses around my mouth as we sucked in each other's breath.

He whispered, "you can cum twice."

It wasn't a question, and I realised he was right, and that we weren't in a hurry, and that I potentially could jizz as much as I wanted.

He slid back onto my dick, his expert mouth swallowed the whole thing but the pressure built up in seconds.

"Jackson...!" I began, but he didn't stop or slow down, instead he sped up, sucking the shaft, and letting the bell end of my cock hit his tonsils, as he tightened his throat like he'd done this a thousand times. Then, as my ejaculation began, he slowed right down and almost completely stopped.

"Fuuuuuck!" I groaned out loud, and deeply, because the way he did that just made it so much more intense. But then his mouth very gently wrapped around my dick, and that hot mouth tightened, and didn't move, while his tongue pushed down around the head and my hips pushed up, my toes curled, my hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheet as several weeks' worth of jizz began to erupt out of my more than ready cock.

And then it happened. I blew my load in a torrent of convulsions that wracked my body, bucking Jackson, who was kneeled between my thighs, holding my dick firmly, with his open mouth accepting everything I had to give. It appeared he wasn't in the mood to waste any, and drank it all greedily with slurping sounds, and continued to do so, as the last of it dribbled out, while my hips bucked up one last time.

I completely relaxed, feeling an enormous release as I tried to get my breathing back under control.

"Fuck..." I said breathlessly, between gulps of air.

With a mouth full of my jizz, Jackson came up, still wearing a cheeky expression on his face. I felt him lay on top of me and press against me, as he was still really hard. It was clear he wanted me to watch him swallow my load, because he did it in an obvious way.

I was surprised to be quite turned on by it.

But sated, and feeling exhausted, I lay there unsure what was next. My body begged for sleep and the urgency was gone.

Jackson had other ideas, as he kissed me. Once more, the taste of my own jizz was interesting. Not quite a turn-off, nor did it do anything for me, but I kissed him back and it definitely felt a lot less intense.

Though somehow, it was even more intimate, with Jackson sliding to lay alongside me, one arm under my neck and the other draped across me, stroking my chest slowly and gently, as his mouth hung around mine me with long, slow, lingering kisses.

It kept my dick hard, while he did all that, and I was keenly aware he hadn't jizzed, but the urge to go a second time wasn't there for me but I forced myself to go along.

Jackson had been quite unselfish with me, and I needed to repay that.

Instead, I rolled back onto of him and kissed him, which he welcomed, then moved down to comfortably put myself between his legs. I figured he'd been getting more sex than I was, and it would take a while, so I was surprised when he blew his load into my mouth fairly quickly.

Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I came back to his face and let him watch me swallow it.

His eyes penetrated deep into me, as though he was reading me, but then he kissed me again, with the taste of both of our jizz swirling around our mouths.

At that point I thought I'd roll over and sleep, but Jackson got up and took a shower, and I realised I was wide awake, so I went into the lounge naked and put my feet up on the new coffee table and finished my wine.

He came out a little while later, naked and with a twinkle in his eye.

"What?" I asked.

"I thought we'd have a little break and go again.

I knew he wasn't kidding.

"I'm prepared for anything, if you know what I mean," he added.

I didn't immediately understand what he meant, which was something Helena said I did often to her.

"I'm prepared in case you...you know, you want to fuck me."

The coin dropped. We sipped wine and sat in silence, though it wasn't awkward, especially when Jackson put a leg across mine and lay back naked.

After a while, in which we sat in a very comfortable silence, I guessed that we might be putting his ginormous dick in my arse, so I went off to prepare myself too.

When I came out of the bathroom, he was on the bed, my glass of wine on my side dresser and his on his side.

Jackson lay in the centre of the bed stroking his dick and smiling at me.

And I was suddenly very much ready for a very long night ahead.