WARNING! EROTICA!
After his son's kidnapping, Ariadne is unable to let Daniel out of her sight, making things difficult in the bedroom for her husband.
As a result, Arthur turns to other means for fulfillment.
Arthur's Addiction
1.
~ Arthur almost collapsed on the couch and pulled off his shoes; setting them carefully, and silently, down on the floor. It was well past midnight and he didn't want to wake his sleeping family.
His new work with Cobb wasn't in dream extraction, but in normal marketing. He had never had a legitimate job before. Other than running his father's company, which he hated, this was his first real job. It meant late nights in a boring office and no more jet setting and dipping into the world of dreams.
The Paris traffic honked and roared outside and he wished he had thought to hide more cigarettes from his wife.
Of all the things she had to force him to be, force him to give up for her, she made him give up smoking. He had gladly done it because it was bad for his health and he knew she hated it. He wasn't a chain smoker and he didn't need to smoke everyday, even before he met her, but the fact she made him give up his vic altogether had been difficult.
Still, his wife was worth it. He looked over the mantle piece at the collection of beautifully framed photos of his family. His two sons, Dominic and Daniel, always photographed together. The pair of them as inseparable as twins. His oldest daughter, Darcy in her fairy costume from "Peter Pan" at the ballet. His youngest child, Drew, her sweet face resembling Ariadne's everyday.
His was proud of his family. Proud of all that they gave him when just a few years ago, he was a different man.
He had been a man who had a passing infatuation with a young student he had just met on a job. Cobb had warned him to stay focused. Perhaps the Extractor could see something in the way his Point Man looked at their new Architect.
Ariadne.
How fearless she had been when he first met her. Still was in fact. He had seen her be a gentle and kind mother. Seen her be frightfully protective of her offspring, and seen her crumble as though she were made of paper.
He had always been attracted to her. The fact she was so independent had caused a spark in him. Her softer side, the side that needed him to care for her, love her and protect her, had made that spark into a fire.
She had made him a better man. She had made him a husband and father. There were children, wonderful little people here who were not there just a few years ago when Cobb set out to invade the mind of Robert Fisher.
How different they were then. How young and guarded they were over their own hearts.
He smiled as his eyes caught hold of their wedding picture. His bride, so beautiful and radiant in her wedding dress. Her dark hair pinned in elegant curls like some kind of vintage look he would never understand but loved on her. The photo was taken at their reception. Just after their first dance. Unfortunately, she had worn heals that were too high for her. Their height difference not such a problem now, but she had wanted everything to be perfect.
He had suggested taking off her shoes after the dancing and she had refused.
Her limping becoming bad till they had a seat at their table and he had reached under her dress, pulling off her shoes and rubbed her battered feet.
The look on her face, so young then, was of him being her hero. The photographer having caught them in such a private moment like a sniper.
Her head resting on his shoulder, him rubbing her tiny feet that poked out of her beautifully beaded wedding dress.
They booth looked tired and madly in love.
Arthur smiled warmly at the photo and stood. He wanted his wife tonight. Wanted to be with her like they were on their honeymoon. When her lips tasted like wedding cake and champagne. When she wore only white to bed with him and each time was like the first time.
He had loved their honeymoon. Loved how she bloomed in his bed and in his arms. How they had wanted to make love till dawn. How they wanted their flesh to just meld into one solid being. How he could never holder her close enough, never kiss her long enough. It was a time of raw sex and little else.
He wanted to wake his sleeping wife with a kiss. Know that she smelled of the perfume he liked her to wear. That she would be fresh from the shower, her hair smelling good and her sleep clothes, adorable as always.
He silently crept into their bedroom. His late nights at work making him come home after hours and having to creep around in his own home.
He saw the outline of his wife's body with her back to him, the round of her hip, her dark hair. The heavy breathing of her sleeping.
He shut the door behind him and crept as quietly as he could around the bed, turning his bedside lamp on.
He hoped to find her sleeping alone.
Daniel, his youngest son, was curled protectively in his mother's arms as though her were an infant instead of a child of six.
Arthur let out a disappointed sigh.
Daniel had undergone a kidnapping a few weeks ago and Ariadne, nor their son hadn't been able to recover from it. The little boy was prone to nightmares and episodes of bedwetting since coming home. He was afraid of dogs when before he had always liked dogs. He was afraid to be alone in any room and Ariadne had done nothing to make him face his fears.
Instead, she insisted on taking the child to bed with them whenever he had a bad night.
At first, Arthur had been fine with it. His son needed them, and he would move heaven and earth of his child. Forgetting the fact Daniel was born blind, their son was still just a child.
But just now, Arthur didn't like the fact his wife was more occupied with another man.
He covered them up better and turned off his lamp. Leaving the two of them to sleep.
~ In his office, a place where children were not allowed, he checked his email and browsed the web.
His blood was still hot and needing something. He wanted to go to his wife. Wanted feel her soft skin and breath on his body as he kissed her awake.
He shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Shit." he hissed to himself and surfed the web for porn.
Nothing too horrific or explicate. He, like all men, liked the visual of women in sexual acts. He wasn't in that kind of mood yet and didn't want to see anything too off putting.
He liked the more pin up style girls first. Poses that showed just a little of girls who had beautiful faces and well cared for, rounded bodies. He liked how they wore dark make up as he selected girls with dark hair and large eyes.
He felt a happiness stir inside him as he drank in the sight of hips and cleavage. Of how the girls seemed to look right at him. Seducing him with their pretty faces and eyes.
Next he graduated to stills of sex. Women with legs spread wide and in the throws of ecstasy. Their bodies hairless so that he could see every detail of penetration.
Then came videos and it was barely a few minutes before he he had forgotten his wife and their honeymoon. His mind lost to the fantasy of a too skinny blond girl with tattoos having sex with a well endowed, faceless man while she moaned more than was necessary.
He thought of Ariadne, not the stupid girl on the screen, when he came. Of his bride on his wedding night. Of his secret crush while they were trapped in the dream for a week. A week when she had fallen sick and he had taken care of her. A week when they had done little else but make love. When she was so inexperienced he had to teach her how to please him.
He felt his body jerk and explode at the memory of her smile and nervousness at being with him. As though she were afraid of all that he could do to her if she gave into him.
It had made him feel strong and powerful in a way no other woman had. he had protected her from projections. Nursed her when she had been sick. She had kissed him, wanted to give him her body but was still scared.
He had to show her what he wanted and learned what she liked.
The memory of how her back would arch when she climaxed left him panting as the ridicules movie played on and on. The thin, tattooed girl moaning and gasping as the faceless male pounded her as though she were just a piece of meat.
Nothing about it was real. It was brutal and without feeling.
He shut his laptop and cleaned himself up as best he could. His body felt slightly better, but his mind was still troubled as she stood, loosened his neck tie and went to take his shower.