"You actually watching this?" Tony inquired, sliding onto the sofa beside Jennifer and glancing at the television, which was playing an old re-run of I Love Lucy.
"No, not really," replied Jennifer, never taking her eyes away from the file spread out in front of her. Tony switched the station over to the History Channel, which was showing a special about WWII. Ancient history was more interesting to him than the recent past, so he switched the TV off entirely and turned to Jennifer, who was furiously jotting down notes.
"You brought your work home tonight?" he asked, "You spend ten hours a day holed up in your office with nothin' but work; that ain't enough for ya?"
"It's for a patient," Jennifer explained, "She's starting behavioral therapy; the other doctor needs a full report on her condition."
Tony grabbed Jennifer's hand, stopping her pen mid-sentence and pulling it from her grasp.
"Anthony, give that back to me," she demanded.
"No. You been looking at nothing but that file for a whole hour. When you gonna give it a rest?"
She pursed her lips in annoyance. "I'm serious, Anthony."
"That's your problem," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him, "You're too serious. You work too hard."
Jennifer opened her mouth to protest, but then his hands were on her shoulders, kneading and pressing. Despite herself, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Her muscles were all kinds of tense, and Tony's firm touch helped. She shivered when he pushed her hair aside and her skin was exposed to the cool air, but then his breath was warm on her flesh. His fingers brushed lightly against the back of her neck, and Jennifer let out a high-pitched giggle and pulled away.
"What?" Tony asked, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she said, "Nothing at all. Don't stop what you were doing."
He returned his mouth to her neck, running his tongue along her flesh, lapping up Jennifer's sweet taste and immersing himself in her delicate, lightly floral scent. His hands continued to knead her muscles. Again he caressed her, and again she giggled, flinching away from him.
"Jen, what the—" he began, and then his mind put two and two together, "You're ticklish, aren't you?"
"No," she said, pulling away and turning to him, "No, not at all."
A wicked smile curled Tony's mouth, and his eyes flashed with mischief.
"Yes you are," he said, pouncing on her and fastening his hands on the back of her neck, tickling mercilessly.
"No! Anthony!" squealed Jennifer, writhing beneath him and attempting to shake him from her, all the while laughing hysterically and uncontrollably. Tony chuckled, too, enjoying the sound of her laughter and the feel of her body as she squirmed against him.
"Stop it!" she begged, giggling through the tears of mirth that were now making paths down her cheeks. Tony eased up on her, sitting back against the sofa's cushions and bringing her with him, lifting her body until she straddled his lap.
"You're terrible," she said, looking down at him and not meaning it even a bit.
He brushed the tears from her cheek and smiled. "Yeah, you love it."
She sighed as she settled against him, enjoying the feel of his solid form beneath her, the sheer hugeness of him, the warmth of his skin, the way that his chest rose and fell as he breathed in and out.
"That's the first time I see you laugh in a while," he said after a moment of comfortable silence.
"You make me laugh all the time," she replied.
"Yeah, but not lately. You been…I don't know, like you're not happy."
Jennifer furrowed her brow and looked into his eyes, noting the uncertainty and worry in them and feeling terrible for having put it there.
"Oh, Anthony…I've been under a lot of pressure at work lately. A lot of patients, the same problems, week after week, and sometimes it feels like I can only do so much for them. And I've been more tired than usual these last few weeks; I don't know why. I'm sorry if I've been distant. I didn't mean to be."
She placed a fleeting kiss upon his lips.
"I love you, and I still want you so much. All the feelings that I have for you…they never go away."
"Same for me," he replied, running his hands up Jennifer's sides, beneath her t-shirt and over her breasts, which were unrestrained by a bra, "I never get tired of being with you, touching you."
Their lips met with fury, tongues crashing against one another's like waves in an angry storm. He pulled her pelvis forward, pressing her crotch against his and letting her feel how hard he was for her. Jennifer gasped for breath when his mouth released hers, but her breath caught in her throat again when his lips descended upon her chest, kissing her breast and finding her pebbled nipple. He licked, sucked and bit at it through the fabric of her shirt while his hands slid into her sweatpants, and caressed her buttocks.
She arched against him, pressing her breasts harder into his face and moaning. I have been distant, Jennifer thought. She realized that it had been weeks since she and Anthony had slept together; too long, for the feelings that he was arousing felt almost foreign, like everything was new to her all over again.
Tony pushed her sweatpants and underwear down as far as they would go, and Jennifer shifted her weight until the clothing fell to the floor, then reached for the zipper of his pants, yanking it downwards and pushing aside his boxers until his manhood sprang free, rigid and eager for her. Without hesitation, she impaled herself upon him, both of them crying out in unison as she began to thrust, taking him in deeply and then letting him escape her almost completely before bringing her hips back down.
"Shit!" he cried out, "Goddamn, I missed this."
Jennifer said nothing, concentrating only on the sensation of him hard and pulsing inside of her, familiar yet thrilling. She slid her hands beneath the fabric of his white wife-beater and stroked him, her fingers tangling in the thick, dark hair on his chest. Tony tugged her shirt over her head, throwing it and paying no heed as it landed somewhere across the room. His mouth latched onto one of her breasts, suckling fiercely and adding another dimension to Jennifer's pleasure. Overwhelmed by sensation, she trembled as she came, pressing her palm against Tony's head and holding him to her chest.
"Oh, fuck," she whispered, letting go of him and falling against his chest. Her climax had been intense, and her muscles felt like jelly. She shifted slightly and noticed that he had not gone soft; Tony's cock was still rock-solid inside of her. Jennifer raised her head questioningly.
"You didn't…?"
"Nah. I have an idea, though. Get off me and go bend over the back of the sofa."
She did as he requested, and was soon rewarded with his hands skimming over the bare flesh of her back, then his lips pressed between her shoulder blades. He incited her to shivers as he kissed his way down her spine, stopping just at her tailbone and then licking his way back up. Jennifer cried out as he entered her from behind, leaning hard against her so that his skin was hot on hers.
"Oh…" she cried, tightening around him, "Oh, Anthony."
"Mmhmm, you love this, don't you?" he asked, his breath tantalizing on her ear.
"Yes, oh god, yes."
Jennifer moaned with each of his thrusts. She raised her head, and when she looked up, she caught their reflection in the decorative mirror across the room. She saw as well as felt Tony's hands slide to the front of her to cup her breasts while he sped up his pace. Jennifer was fascinated by her own reflection, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her hair tousled around her face where Tony had run his fingers through it, the glimmer of lust in her eyes. Tony happened to glance over at the mirror as well, and noticed that Jennifer was fixated upon the reflectin of their passion. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and he held her gaze as he pushed her to the edge, only to follow her over the precipice just seconds later, thrusting into her so hard that he lifted her off of her feet and almost sent her flying over the sofa's arm. They collapsed to the floor together, and Tony rolled onto his back while Jennifer pulled a few throw pillows and a blanket from the couch, spreading the pillows and then covering them both so that they weren't just lying on the rug in the middle of the living room.
"Damn," she said, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to catch her breath, "How the hell did I survive more than two weeks without that?"
Tony shrugged. "Beats me. I was goin' crazy."
Jennifer turned over, smiling almost teasingly. "Is that the longest you've ever gone without sex?" she asked.
"Nah; I went fifteen years without it once."
Jennifer frowned and looked blankly at him until she comprehended the joke. She chuckled and shook her head. "I mean since you've been sexually active, Anthony."
"Yeah, I know what you meant. And to answer your question, yeah, it is. We can't all be saints like you and go for—how long was it, before you and me got together?"
"Five years."
"Five years. How the hell did you survive that?"
"I touched myself a lot." Jennifer blushed and looked away, "Usually while thinking about you."
"No shit?" he asked.
"Why are you surprised? I've always found you attractive, Anthony, even before I knew that I loved you."
"And when was that?" He scooted closer to her on the floor so that she could settle into his embrace. "When did you know?"
Jennifer laid her cheek against his shoulder, biting her lip and thinking. "The time that I broke down in one of our sessions and you held my hand. It was right after…well, you know. The point is that you didn't even know what was wrong, but you tried to comfort me. You showed more genuine concern and sympathy for me than anyone else had, and I knew that I mattered to you. I loved you for that, and I realized that I had for some time, but I was so confused then that I didn't know what to do with those feelings. Then the more I could rationalize, the more I thought of how inappropriate a relationship with you would be, I decided to pretend that you were nothing more than a patient to me."
"That why you treated me for so long? Any other therapist would've said 'fuck it' and kicked my ass out, but you kept me. Was it because you loved me?"
"We're playing 20 Questions tonight," Jennifer said, kissing his shoulder, "Yes, on some level. In the first few years I kept you because you were my patient and you were suffering. I wanted to help you because it was my job to. After I realized what I felt for you, even when everyone, my own therapist, even you yourself told me you were a hopeless case, I kept you because you were still suffering. I loved you, and I didn't want to see you in pain. I hoped there was something I could do for you."
"Why do you love me so much?" Tony asked, "That's what I can't figure out. I know why I love you." He turned to her, softly caressing her cheek. "'Cause you're smart, and gentle, and gorgeous. I'm not any of that. I'm a miserable fuckin' bastard, so why the hell do you stay with me?"
"You can be a miserable bastard sometimes, yes, but you also have redeeming qualities. And you are smart, Anthony; don't try to fool yourself there. In your profession, I doubt you'd still be alive, much less in the position you are, if you were an idiot. And you're right; you're not a gentle man by nature, but you try to be, with me. I love you for that, and for everything else about you that I know and no one else does, the hidden parts of you that you only show to me."
"You're right," Tony conceded, "You're the only person who knows me, Jen."
"I'm the only person you let know you."
He nodded at that, and then laid his head on his pillow, lost in thought and stroking Jennifer's hair absently as he stared up at the ceiling. He was roused only when he felt her weight shifting, and then a cold void where she had been lying. He looked up at her, puzzled, and she offered him her hand with a smile.
"If you're sleeping on the floor tonight, then you're by yourself," she said. He took her hand and let her help him up, smacking her bare ass playfully when he stood and earning himself a disapproving frown. She reached down to pick up her sweatpants from where they had landed near the sofa, and looked for her top as she put them on.
"Anthony, where did you throw my t-shirt?" she asked.
"Hell if I know where it went," he replied, stepping into his boxers. Jennifer's eyes scanned the room and she giggled when she saw that the garment was hanging off of the edge of her television. Tony noticed where she was looking and chuckled, too.
"Fuck it; leave it there and let's go to bed. You won't be needing clothes, anyway."
