Working Class Hero

The house was dark, except for the light over the kitchen sink and the light in the hall that led to the bedrooms, so he was startled when he heard the clink of ice in a glass coming from the darkened living room.

"Patricia?" he said softly.

He could see her backlit from the light in the hallway, and the look on her face cut him to the core.

He could tell from the wet streaks down her cheeks that she'd been crying, and as they stared at each other, she drained the glass and he turned instinctively to the kitchen counter, where he now noticed the half-empty bottle.

"Are you OK?" he said as he sat on the chair opposite where Patricia was sitting.

"No, I'm not," Patricia whispered. "Johnny, I've been ... an idiot, a fool. I let a slick-talking bastard get a lot further toward seducing me than I ever should have, and I just hope you can forgive me for almost wrecking our marriage."

"Have you cheated on me?" Johnny asked.

"No. No, I haven't," Patricia said. "But I've been doing things that I shouldn't have been doing, and tonight I ... I met him for dinner. I kept telling myself that I was just meeting a friend for conversation, but I was kidding myself. He thought he was going to get lucky tonight, and he might have, if your daughter hadn't made me face the cold, hard reality of what I was doing."

"Brittany? What did she have to do with this?" Johnny said.

Patricia told Johnny about the conversation she'd had with their daughter, and how it had been what finally penetrated her consciousness about where she'd been headed.

"So, who is this 'slick bastard,' you've been making time with?" Johnny said.

"William Broadacres; he's a lawyer with the firm, and I haven't been making time with him," Patricia said. "At least ... Oh hell, I don't know. I don't know anything any more. I've been so confused, so frustrated. I love you, Johnny, but ... I don't know. I'm tired of the four of us living almost on top of each other. We have no room any more, and you've promised that we might start looking to buy a bigger house, but nothing's materialized. I'm starting to feel old, now that I've passed 40, and I guess I bought some of his flattery. I don't know. Maybe he made me feel sexy, or something. Johnny, I've been so messed up in my mind; I've lost track of what's really important, and it scares me to death. We've had a good marriage, a good life together, and it frightens me to think about how easily I almost let it slip away."

"Sweetheart, I'm always here for you; all you have to do is ask," Johnny said, as he got up and walked over to where his wife was sitting. He pulled her up from where she was sitting and held her at arm's length.

"But, honey, always remember that you're everything to me. You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, but I'm not going to share you. Either you're mine or you're not, and if you're not, then we'll go our separate ways, and you can live the life you want, with whomever you want."

"No! God, no!" Patricia cried, and she threw herself in Johnny's arms. "I don't have a life without you. I realize that now. Maybe I just needed to get slapped around, figuratively speaking, but I know I can't make it without you, either. Maybe I don't tell you enough how much I love you and how much I appreciate how hard you work to provide a life for us, but I do, very much."

"I guess you know I'm not happy about any of this," Johnny said. "It disappoints me that you could be lured into anything that could even be seen peripherally as improper. Did you think you were invisible? That people couldn't see what was happening?"

"You knew something was going on, didn't you," Patricia said. "That's what that business was last week, asking me if I still loved you. So why didn't you say something then?"

"Patricia, I can't force you to love me," Johnny said, with deep emotion. "This had to be something you worked out on your own, something you had to decide yourself. You had to make up your own mind what you wanted, and if I'd confronted you about it then, you may have backed off, but it wouldn't have been your decision. You'd have done it for me, not yourself. Or you may have gotten defensive and denied it, and maybe decided to go ahead with an affair just to spite me. I didn't know how you'd react."

"Johnny, I'd never do that," Patricia said.

"How do I know that?" he replied. "I didn't think you'd fall prey to some 'slick bastard,' either, and go out behind my back like you did tonight."

Patricia just stared at her husband as it started to sink in just how hurt he was by what she'd done already. Heaven forbid if she'd actually gone through with it and taken that final step into adultery, she thought with a shudder.

Just the mere act of going behind his back for a dinner date had wounded their relationship, and she castigated herself for letting it get that far.

"Johnny?" she said in a very small voice. "Can we get past this? Can you still love me after what I've done?"

Johnny gazed deeply into the eyes of this woman he'd loved forever, and he felt something elemental brewing in his gut. It had been a week since they had made love, and he felt it in his bones, the need to reclaim what was his.

Even though he believed Patricia was telling him the truth about not having had sex with Broadacres, he still felt that he'd defiled her just by making the attempt and getting as far as he did. And it pissed him off.

"I'm going to get a shower and clean up," he said abruptly. "Meet me in the bedroom. We're not done here."

Patricia was bewildered by Johnny's sudden mood change. At first he'd been conciliatory, somewhat understanding. But suddenly, it was like a veil had fallen over his heart, and she was worried that perhaps it was too late, that he wasn't going to forgive her.

She looked over at the bottle of bourbon, contemplating one final drink, then shook her head. She'd had too much to drink already, and she needed what clarity she could muster to get through the next hour or so.

She knew her marriage to Johnny was teetering on the edge of collapse and she knew she had to do everything in her power to bring them back from the brink of disaster, a disaster she knew she had precipitated, and she needed to do it now.

^ ^ ^ ^

The bedside lamp was the only light in the bedroom as Johnny emerged from the bathroom after his customary after-work shower. He stopped short when he saw what awaited him in their bedroom.

Patricia was standing by the bed, in a pose that could only be described as submissive, wearing only a pair of thigh-high stockings and a pair of high heels. She'd brushed her dark, shoulder-length hair until it looked like polished onyx, and had re-applied her makeup rather thickly.

"I've been acting like a slut wannabee," she said softly. "So, tonight, I want you to treat me like one."

Johnny almost chuckled in amazement. It was just one more bit of evidence that they were truly a pair, because he'd been thinking along those very same lines while he showered. He needed to take back what was his, and take it back with authority, and apparently Patricia had the same sense of urgency.

His cock sprang to attention as his eyes swept over the vision in front of him. God, but she was a goddess! Still beautiful, still built like a brick shithouse, and still his, in spite of the temptation she'd faced.

He softly caressed his hard meat as he walked slowly to where Patricia was standing, her eyes downcast. Abruptly, he spoke and the tone was harsh.

"On your knees, woman," he barked, and she immediately dropped to the floor. "Suck it."

She took his cock firmly in hand, and licked up and down the shaft, caressing the iron stalk with her full lips. She tasted the ball of clear fluid that bubbled from the tip, swirled it on her tongue and went for more.

After a minute or two, Johnny put his hand at the back of Patricia's head and guided his cock past her lips. He pushed it gently, but firmly into the maw of her mouth until the head was poking at the entrance of her throat.

Patricia gave a small choking sound as Johnny's cock prodded deeper into her throat, but he didn't go any further, and she quickly pulled his cock back and began to work it back and forth in her mouth.

Wet, hungry noises quickly escaped Patricia's mouth as she sucked ever more greedily on her husband's cock. She could feel the wet heat between her legs from the forceful way Johnny was working her mouth on his throbbing root.

Johnny's hand were laced in her silky hair as he guided her head on his cock. He could feel the urge to blow the back of his wife's head off with an explosive cumshot, and he wasn't nearly ready for that.

So he suddenly wrenched he cock free of her mouth and holding it tightly at the base, rubbed the leaking head over her lips, her chin, her nose, all over her face, smearing Patricia's lipstick and completely wrecking her makeup.

She didn't care; in fact, the lewd act sent spasms of lust roaring through her body as she closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of her husband taking her.

Their lovemaking had always been just that, loving and tender, but that's not what either of them wanted on this night.

Johnny reached under Patricia's armpits and pulled her to her feet. As he did, his hands glommed onto her tits, and he squeezed them hard, then tweaked both nipples between his thumb and middle fingers.

They just stared into each other's eyes at the naked lust, the ferocious passion that was brewing between them.

Abruptly, Johnny pushed Patricia back onto the bed, with her legs high in the air. He grabbed her silky ankles to spread her legs as widely apart as he could, then he dove in nose-first.

He had made up his mind that he was going to remind this woman just how good a lover he could be, remind her that she was his, and only his, so that she'd never entertain another thought of another man again.

Perhaps they had gotten into a bit of a rut, possibly they had gotten a little complacent, but that time was over. He was committed to giving his wife such an experience that she'd never forget it.

That thought was what flashed through his mind as he worked his mouth on Patricia's drooling pussy. He rolled his tongue in a figure-eight over her sobbing hole and up to her quivering clit, occasionally vacuuming her pussy into his mouth.

Patricia gasped and writhed on the bed as Johnny worked magic with his mouth. She could feel the molten lava of her climax building higher, higher, until she thought she was going to explode.

And when he suddenly slid three fingers into her convulsing box, she felt the sledgehammer of her orgasm hit her in the gut. Her body rippled from the waves of pleasure that coursed through her, and she moaned and panted until she felt the hardest part pass.

Johnny barely gave her time to recover, then flipped her over onto her knees, pulled her up and clamped his mouth back onto her dripping pussy. Patricia gripped the sheets in both hands as another hard climax began to mount from the expert way Johnny was tongue-fucking her.

She was taken completely by surprise when Johnny slashed his way up to her little rosebud. She squealed in surprise -- and in runaway lust -- as he laved her ass with his tongue, while finger-fucking her briskly.

Patricia couldn't believe how quickly she exploded into another orgasm from Johnny's tongue in her ass. She'd never before let him come close to fucking her ass, but she knew if he wanted it tonight, she'd let him.

Johnny had indeed thought about that, but he really just wanted to give her one more thing to think about, and he was gratified to feel and see her body reacting to his tongue on her ass.

Again, he rolled his wife onto her back, and he felt a surge of lust at the vacant look in her eyes, and the way the strands of her disheveled hair fell across her face. It was a look that told him she was lost to lust, and she'd do anything he wanted.

This time, he moved up her body and suckled her achingly-hard nipples and feeding as much of her tit flesh as he could cram into his mouth, all the time churning three fingers in her twitching pussy.

After working on her tits for awhile, Johnny slid his tongue down her stomach, down her abdomen and once again worked his mouth on Patricia's angry red gash. Her back arched as he sucked and licked on her pussy, with the odd swipes at her wet and exposed asshole.

Her mind was a stunning void, filled with a kaleidoscope of pure lust, as Johnny brought her quickly to another climax. She was beyond coherent speech as her body lurched upward in orgasm.

And just about the moment she hit her peak, Johnny pulled his mouth away from her crotch, climbed up on his knees, picked her legs up in the crook of each elbow and rammed his painfully-hard cock into her cunt as far as it could go as fast as it could go.

Patricia screamed then as Johnny's cock filled her joyfully. All she could do was lie back and enjoy, because Johnny had her bent in two, her ankles on either wide of her ears as he fucked her hard, with powerful, relentless strokes.

He was grunting, gasping as the rutting frenzy consumed him, and swept her along with him. Their minds were focused on nothing but the union of their bodies, where his cock plowed into her pussy like a piston engine working on high.

Patricia could feel yet another climax brewing from the powerful way Johnny was taking her, and she was incapable of doing anything to stop it or even slow it down.

But Johnny was already a step ahead of her. Suddenly, he released her legs, pulled his still throbbing-cock from her gushing pussy, and flipped her once more onto her knees. He pulled her up so her butt was high in the air, with her glistening pussy on full display.

"This is how you fuck a slut," he growled, and Patricia just moaned in consent. She was beyond words by now, barely conscious, and cognizant of just one thing -- getting her aching hole filled, first with her man's cock and then her man's cum.

Johnny aimed his cock at the hole that awaited him, fit it in her slot, then grabbed her hips and rammed it home, all the way to the hilt.

Patricia howled into her pillow as her cunt was filled once again with Johnny's luscious cock, and she could feel the climax begin to spike, even as she could feel Johnny fucking her with long, hard strokes.

Searching for any way to heighten her sensate pleasure, Patricia rubbed her nail-hard nipples on the linen sheet of the bed, and gasped as the rays of sensation flowed through her body.

Johnny was sweating now, and he could see dark spots in his vision as he fucked Patricia with a blinding passion. He was trying to hold back, trying to prolong the sweet agony of that moment right before release, but he couldn't stop. It was like his cock was on autopilot, out of control.

Patricia felt it first. It was almost like an atomic bomb went off in her body. She thrashed and jerked as she knelt on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, her breasts against the sheet and her butt up in the air like some whore.

Feeling her come completely unglued like that was more than Johnny's control could handle. With a roar, he gripped Patricia's buttocks tightly as a volcano of cum blew through his cock. He gasped as the release of semen basted Patricia's convulsing pussy with hot cream.

Over and over, seemingly forever, he spewed lightning bolts of cum into her body, deep into her womb. Finally, he gave a long exhale of breath, and they collapsed together on the bed, on top of each other.

With release came realization, and Patricia found herself weeping as she remembered what had precipitated this whole thing.

"I'm (sob) so (sniffle) sorry," Patricia cried.

Johnny just held her and whispered in her ear that everything was going to be fine now. After awhile, she got calmed down and they just lay together in the sweaty wreckage of lust.

"Do you still love me?" Patricia finally asked.

"Of course, I do," Johnny answered. "I'll always love you."

"Good," Patricia said as she felt sleep overtake her. "I'll always love you too."

Johnny was tired, but not especially sleepy. He felt energized by the encounter they'd just had, and the thought that his marriage was not only intact, but had been strengthened -- tempered -- by the fire of their earlier lust.

As he lay there, he started going over in his mind how he was going to approach the task he faced in the morning. Once he had everything thought out the way he wanted, he rolled over and snuggled up to his wife, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.

^ ^ ^ ^

As usual, William Broadacres was in early, around 7:45 the next morning. He was going over his day planner while thinking about the events of the previous night.

His quick mind was mulling over a new strategy for getting to Patricia McMullen, since it was becoming clear the one he'd been using wasn't working.

He'd used flattery, and while that had gotten him an in originally, it hadn't yielded results. He'd appealed to her class-consciousness and her obvious discontent with her working-class life, and he'd thought that was succeeding until the previous night's rejection.

There was no way he was giving up. He'd be damned if he was going to lose to some ignorant factory worker. Having Patricia McMullen had almost become an obsession to him, and he was beginning to think he might have to bring out the heavy artillery -- bribery or even blackmail.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he barely heard the door to his office open and shut. But he sensed a presence in front of his desk and looked up to see a fairly short, but solidly-built man of about 40, dressed in blue jeans and a denim work shirt.

William's mouth suddenly went dry as he stared into the eyes of Johnny McMullen, and Johnny stared back with an even gaze.

"Who are you?" William demanded, as he quickly found his courage. "How did you get in here? What do you want?"

"Mister Broadacres, I'm disappointed in you," Johnny said in a deceptively pleasant tone of voice. "I would have thought a cagey lawyer like you would know that the first rule of engagement is to know your enemy. So let's cut the crap and assume you know who I am and why I'm here."

"I think you'd better leave, before I call security," William said, picking up the phone.

"You're not calling anybody," Johnny said as he casually walked over to William's desk, pulled the phone from his hands and hung it back up. "For a smart lawyer, you're pretty dumb. How do you think I got in here in the first place?"

Johnny stood impassively in front of the desk while he waited for comprehension to sink into the lawyer's brain. When he saw William sit back in his chair with a pale look on his face, understanding now that security had been the ones who'd allowed Johnny access to the office, Johnny knew it was time to continue.

"Now then, Mister Broadacres, we're going to have a little conversation," Johnny said. "Actually, I'm going to talk; you're going to listen. And in a few minutes, when your secretary arrives, I'm going to leave you two alone so you can dictate a letter. Something along the lines of, 'I hereby submit my resignation, effective immediately, to pursue other interests.' You can doctor it up however you want, but I think you get the gist of it."

"Are you out of your mind?" William said indignantly. "I'm not about to quit just because you say so. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who will kick your ass all over this office if you don't," Johnny said, leaning over the desk in a menacing fashion. "Let me tell you something, Mister Broadacres. I know the scam you're trying to run on my wife. She fell for it enough to put our marriage in jeopardy, but I think we'll get past it, because I believe her when she says nothing had happened. Yet. She may just be another notch on your belt, just another conquest, but she's everything to me, and I'm not going to just sit back and let some clown like you take her away from me."