Peter sat calmly on the couch besides Claire, watching her pour vodka straight from the bottle down her throat. She was angry with her father, for keeping the fact that she was adopted from her. She had known for years now but that didn't stop the pain. The pain of finding out that your only family in the whole world, the only place she'd ever felt comfortable was all pretend. Her whole life was just one big lie.
So Peter let her, let her drown her sorrows. He didn't know what had happened to her. She had known about this already and yet suddenly out of nowhere she fell into a deep depression. He wished that he could comfort her, but he knew if he did that then his lust would get the better of him. And he couldn't do that to Claire.
"What kind of . . . cold-hearted b-bastard keeps thing like that from his own . . . daughter! Well as it turns out . . ." Claire slurred shoving her long delicate fingers into Peters face and now she was just mumbling herself. He hated the world for making her feel this way and he hated the world for making them be related. Lost in his thoughts Peter only just realised that Claire was crying and had toppled of the couch and right onto the floor. Immediately is hero instincts clicked into place as he practically jumped from the couch and bent down to help her. She was too weak so he helped her up onto the couch.
"Okay Claire I think that's enough alcohol for you." Peter said trying to pry the bottle from her.
"N-no!" She stuttered when she realised what he was trying to do. She held it tight to her chest, gripping onto it, refusing to let go. Right now this bottle, the vodka. It was her only escape. They were having a bit of slap fight as Peter continued to take the bottle from her but instead ended knocking onto the floor causing it to smash.
"PETER!" Claire yelled at him angrily. She ran to the fridge only to find that was the last bottle. "W-Why Di-" She tried again knowing the alcohol was taking its toll on her. "Why . . . Did You . . . Do – That!" It took her a long five minutes until Peter understood her. He hadn't consumed even half as much vodka as Claire had.
"Look Claire, I'm sorry but I'm not going to sit here and watch you drink yourself in sorrows. Okay?" Peter took a hold of her arms, steadying her so she wouldn't fall.
"Yeah, sure, whatever!" Claire replied like the teenager she once was. Most guys who saw a girl, pissed out of her head, didn't want anything to do with them. Thought they looked unattractive. But not Peter. Peter only found it made Claire more attractive. Showed she had flaws like any other normal person. Although she was anything but, she was special. Even more special to him.
"Look Claire, I know your upset but trust me this is not the way you want to let your anger out." Peter told her, he should know, he'd had plenty of experience from it.
Claire looked at him, deep into his eyes, even though she was pissed out of her head, she still remembered what attracted her to him all those years ago. She'd walked right into him, she'd been too busy worrying about being caught sneaking out or coming face to face with Jackie after hitting her, that she hadn't noticed he was there at all. But boy when she had. When he gave her duffle bag back she looked straight into his eyes, like she was right now, and knew that he was special. She couldn't explain, not even to herself why she felt such a connection with him, why she felt that if Peter was ever to die she would die with him and why whenever he was with another woman she was filled with burning jealousy.
Claire didn't know what she was doing, maybe it was just the alcohol acting or maybe this was all she needed. Maybe all she needed was the alcohol to give her the confidence to do something with Peter just like she's always fantasised about. She was too drunk to consider the fact that Peter would pull away but she did what her head was telling her or more like the alcohol.
Claire leaned in and pushed her lips against Peters thinned ones. She didn't know whether he was kissing her back, she assumed he was because there wasn't a gap between them. Pretty soon Peter was pulling of Claire's t-shirt and unclipped her bra. Her luscious, pert boobs fell out whilst Peter lips left hers and sucked on her nipple. Claire lent her head back and moaned, she really had no idea what she was doing all she knew was that she was absolutely, fucking loving it. She pulled of his shirt and smoothed his hard chest, placing sweet kisses all the way down his body, until she came to his jeans. She unbuckled the belt and slipped it off and then his boxers too. She may have been drunk but she'd seen a dick or two and yet she had the feeling as if she's never seen anything so … magnificent.
Without thinking she placed her lips on the top and began to suck. Peter let out a moan and was filled with encouragement to carry on what she was doing. She sucked more and more going deeper. She's never given any of her boyfriends a blowjob before, not even West. Who was she kidding she hated West.
Peter let put another strangled moan and came in Claire's mouth. She licked up all the cum and kissed Peter again. It wasn't really how she pictured her first time with Peter. But she drunk and hot for him so she didn't care. The next thing she knew, Peter was shoving his hard cock into her. She screamed with pleasure as Peter thrusted into her again and again until she came with her first orgasm of the night.
They had sex over and over again. Claire was so drunk she lost count. She was shocked to wake up the next day her naked body next to Peter's. she had one hell of a hangover but at least she knew what she was doing or thinking at this point. Peter had such a fit body, as she got out of the bed and grabbed one of Peter's t-shirt to cover up her nakedness. As she poured coffee for her and Peter, she received flashes of the night before. Her and Peter had, had sex on the sofa, in the bed, on the kitchen counter even in the bath.
Although she completely regretted drinking so much, she didn't once regret sleeping with Peter and she prayed to god he didn't either. Smiling, she picked up the two cups of coffee and entered Peter's room where they must of done it another time before falling asleep.