I've never and probably won't again, because I'm fickle like that. But some sent me this request and then sent it, and sent it...and sent it. As requested.
TGIF
"Every time you come back from having dinner with your mom, you're like this Maur" Jane said as she stood at the kitchen sink.
This is true. It's Friday and I just came from my weekly pillage into the city to have dinner with my mother. Where we only make small talk for the first hour, until she starts ripping into me about my career being stalled along with my personal life. The past few dinners it's been how I should be transitioning my career into teaching and preparing my personal life for children. "You aren't even seeing anyone because that cop takes up so much of you free time Maura."
I spend the whole car ride back home stewing on the fact that it has only been the last 5 months that my mother and I have even spoken, let alone seen each other on any kind of consistent basis. She accepted a teaching position at BCU and I only suspect she did that because of the falling out that her and my father had. When she first came, she hated Jane, and I'm more than positive that the feeling was mutual. I don't think those feelings have changed at all for either of them, if anything they've probably grown, they're just not verbally upfront about it anymore.
Funnily enough, it was Jane that pushed me into having dinner with her every Friday. Which is weird, because Friday's are usually our days to decompress from the week. She said she knew how much I had always wanted a relationship with my mother, and if she had to take a backseat for a couple of hours, that was fine, she's a big girl.
"You pushed for this Jane" I say through semi gritted teeth.
"And we're off" I hear her whisper.
"It'd be good for you Maur, to get to know her. Get the ball going" You repeat what she said to you all those months ago as you whirl on her.
"I didn't know it was going to make you act like a raging lunatic" she wipes the dish water she had on her hands, on her loose jeans.
"You think I'm acting like a raging lunatic" it's not really a question, and you know that she doesn't consider it one.
"No, last week when you were on your period, you were a raging lunatic" she mumbles and tries to walk past you.
You grab her arm right before she gets past you and instantly you know it's the wrong move, even before she jerks it away.
"Don't ever fucking grab me Maura" she's gone 0 to 60 in less time than it takes to blink her brown eyes that are ablaze with fury.
"You were walking away" You accuse. You know you should be trying to calm her down, but you're still somewhat mad.
"You ask me to come back. You don't fucking grab me" she fumes at you.
You know this. It's something that the two of you discussed fairly early in your friendship. Her dad used to hit her, and even though she did, not a whole lot had to be explained. Outside of the bedroom she has never manhandled you, even when she is as angry as she is now.
You can see that she is shaking and know that means she wants to hit something. Unconsciously you take a step back. You don't stop her when she swiftly moves to the front door, slamming it on her way out.
It's been 2 hours since she left. You're not worried, she probably went to the gym to actually hit something, or to drink with one or both of her brothers. Neither one usually ends up calming her.
At the gym she thinks of all the reasons she hates her father (and mother to a certain extent), so when she gets back she's even more frustrated. With her brothers she does the same thing, but there's alcohol involved. She knows you don't like when she drinks like that.
You've taken a shower, dressed for bed in one of her oversized Red Sox shirts and a silk robe, when you go downstairs to get a glass of wine. You're in your head so deep that you almost drop the glass when you see her standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Jane" you say when you see that she isn't saying anything. That she's not going to.
You stand there staring at each other for minutes? You are trying to tell where she was, how frustrated she still is, how the night will end. You have never been able to tell what she was thinking.
When she takes her first step towards you, you know that she has been at the gym. She just seems to have more energy. The second and third steps around the kitchen island are so quick, they make you put your wine glass down on instinct.
She's on you like a cheetah on prey. With your robe on the floor and your thighs pressed up against the kitchen table, you have no idea how she moves so fast for her height.
She's spun you around and the fronts of your thighs are pressed into the edge of the table now and your hands are flat against it and all you hear is your breathing and her belt, zipper.
She throws the bottom of the t-shirt up your back with one hand and you know that the other one is pulling herself from her briefs. You know for a fact that when she's like this, there is no stroking necessary.
You feel her poking into your thigh and you get a rush of blood to the head that immediately drops to your pussy and floods it with moisture.
You want to wiggle your ass for her, tease her, but you know she would just…
SMACK
You let out a dirty moan because you love when she slaps your ass. Your hands are itching to reach behind you and force her inside of you, but the smack to your ass was her telling you to keep still.
She bends over you, making you put your hands flat on the table again. Leans in your ear. Hold on. It sounds like a threat and a promise in one. You hope so.
She leans back and takes a hand with her. Pauses. She knows you hate it. Love it. She's stroking you with her length. Very lengthy. You shudder. You know the power behind it.
Before you can even take a deep breathe, she's inside you. It hurts so bad and feels so fucking good at the same time.
She's still. Teasing you. She wants you to beg her. You will. You do. Please is not good enough. She wants permission. Fuck me.
She starts moving. She's wide, long. Everything she does feels so deep. So good. You're pretty sure those are the words that you keep repeating, but you're not sure. Your only focus is that spot right under your stomach that she keeps hitting.
She has a handful of your hair. You know what this means. You widen your stance. Drop yourself on the table. Your arms can't take the brunt of this. She's about to do what you asked. She's about to start fucking you.
You moan so loud and long when she puts her hips in the mix. It's never been this way with anyone before. The way she pushes and pulls. Oh fuuck.
She's so powerful. You have to use your forearms for support, they'll feel like jelly tomorrow. So will you. Sitting down will be hard. You thought it was just something that people said, until you couldn't walk comfortably after you'd been with her. She's very proud that she can do that to you. You kind of are too.
You know she's close. She's breathing harder. You feel yourself tightening around her. It even sounds like the table is going to come. Not before you.
You put your head down. Forehead on the table. You look like you're praying, hand balled around the other. You sound like you're praying. Oh God, oh God, oh Goooddd. You just might be.
You cum and it pushes out. She cums and it pushes in. Even your orgasms fuck each other. It makes you cum again. She's the only person that's ever gotten you to cum this hard. Every single time. Cock, mouth, fingers, words. Every single time.
When she pulls out of you it almost sends you into another orgasm. She's picked you, her pants and your robe all up and is headed upstairs. She's a superhero.
When she gently lays you on the bed, you know that she's about you fuck you just as soft. You spread your legs for her to take what will forever be only hers. She penetrates you this time slowly. She whispers things in your ear that get the both of you closer.
Her hips are slow but strong this time. You know for sure that even if you had to go to work tomorrow, you wouldn't be able to.
You throw your arms around her neck, run your fingers through her hair. She's making you cum again. She palms your tit, massages it through your orgasm. It leads to another immediately after and that draws hers from her.
You know that your mother is wrong. You are not like her, you don't want to teach yet.
Jane is not a distraction that takes up your free time, she is the only person that you love, that you give your time to.
And for the last year that your relationship has been physical with Jane, the two of you haven't said anything about having children, but 2 weeks ago when you guys were in the bathroom getting ready for work, she threw your birth control in the trash before she went to make coffee.