OMG. I had no idea it's been so long. My life was fucking crazy and then it was somehow 19 months later. For all of 15 months I have been doing the work normally 9 other colleagues of mine are doing all alone. After that I needed some time disconnected from all of it and I got myself another place of employment.
The mistakes down there are as sure as hell on me ;)
See Author's Note (Chapter one)
There was Cassata Siciliana, just enough for all of them. There was a barbecue, Mediterranean style. If you didn't know, you would have thought it was just a gathering of family and close friends, just like Maura and Jane had wished for. Renewing their vows was just the cherry on top. There was music and dancing, laughing and sharing stories, there were tons of pictures taken.
Maura's POV
Jane carries me over the threshold this time too, this time, however, anything but decent.
My panties create a great feeling in combination with Jane's belt buckle, which rubs the thin fabric against my sex.
The hem of my dress is pushed up to my bottom and my neckline slipped so low that the sight makes me think for a second that even I would lay myself if I were in her place.
Last time it was all tender and loving and the feeling of being married was only a few hours old and overwhelming.
Even though we were already established, sat in the saddle firmly and being married to Jane is still overwhelming, we took a lot of time back then. We did not consummate our marriage until it was already late into the morning after.
This morning we took plenty of time to exchange tenderness, to make love, to seek comfort and to give it, too.
Now I have about twenty seconds until I get fucked, until Jane shoves two of her incredible long fingers into me.
She won't wait until she throws me on the bed, no, she'll penetrate me first. Long before I'm naked I'll have one, probably two, maybe three orgasms.
Some might now like to call me a manipulative bitch and I don't really care. Yes, I know how to get what I want from Jane, but I would never hurt her, harm her. I want all of her unrestrained lust, desire, now. I want her to fuck me like it's a one-night-stand, a hookup, a fling. Not like a married couple who will sit together at the breakfast table the next morning.
That may sound strange now, but we don't have enough time for fast and uninhibited sex. The hours we spend together are far too often too valuable to be spent with raw lust.
Don't get that wrong, we do have a lot of sex, a very lot of sex for a couple who has lived together for years already and is also married, having a child together.
I could be accused that the choice of my dress, the cut, aimed precisely at that. I didn't. Well, maybe in a certain way. Of course, I am aware that my dress gives me a certain sex appeal. Why not, after all, we don't renew our marriage because we have to, but because I love Jane with every fiber of my heart and desire her with every cell of my body and I will burn up in this desire, tonight.
I know how to place a look, through the lashes, upwards. It's so mind-boggling attractive that Jane is four point eight inches taller than me.
We had a little too much champagne, or beer, or both. Others only notice that Jane had a little too much when she giggles. Jane doesn't giggle, Jane laughs or not, only when she's been drinking. It's different with me. I don't think anyone except me will ever notice the change, but when Jane has a beer or two too many, one or the other filter switches off. She doesn't become disrespectful to me, or vulgar, or condescending, or abusive, but loses a little of her natural shame.
A palm that slides over my bottom, a thumb that brushes my nipple, words that are whispered in my ear. Nobody would ever be able to testify to any of these things, Jane would never let that happen, for my sake. I couldn't care less, but Jane would never allow anything to tarnish my impeccable reputation. That someone sees something other than perfection in me. That could give a reason to anyone not to treat me like a queen, her queen.
Under no circumstances do I fuel excessive consumption of alcohol, but I do consciously fuel Jane's behavior when she has drunk a little too much. I know that she loves me and I know that she desires me, but it is precisely this desire that only gets the upper hand on days like this.
I have a near orgasm every time she whispers in my ear that she wants to fuck me. It's something I very, very rarely get to hear. Which is odd, because I never heard someone use the word 'fuck' as often as she does. She even got a shirt from Detective Korsak and Detective Frost saying 'fuck (verb) can be used in many fucking ways and is probably the only fucking word that can be put everyfuckingwhere and still make fucking sense' At first sight I didn't find that shirt funny but then I had to admit that it fit, Jane can put it really everyfuckingwhere and somehow it still makes fucking sense.
Probably it would have been a mood killer if anyone other would have whispered it into my ear, but I can only emphasize it over and over; everything is differently with Jane. It would have been. I like sex, I liked it even before Jane, differently, but I did. I am just not one for fetishes or profanities.
She releases my lips and kisses down my neck very quickly, I know what's her plan. I know it but it still works. When she breathes a kiss on top of my right breast, I am so distracted that I don't notice that Jane has pushed my panties aside and only when my breath is taken away, do I notice that she has already penetrated me deeply.
I feel every step, feel my muscles clasping around her fingers, she doesn't move inside me and I don't get thrown on the bed, not yet. She presses my butt against the vanity table and is down on her knees in one move. Her right hand shoves my dress higher and my panties some more aside while two fingers of her left hand are still deep inside me.
There is no time wasted for preparation, for slow, for build-up. Dancing with her, flirting with her, kissing her was already enough preparation and build-up, I was ready to be fucked in the middle of the garden.
I desperately grab her shoulders with both hands. I want her closer, I want to shove her away. Too much pleasure… just when I think that I will be coming in merely seconds it is already happening. My legs are shaking like I hadn't had sex in months, years maybe. She is still deep inside me when she picks me up and jumps the bed with me on top of her, but turns us around immediately. She frees my right breast and pulls out of me simultaneously. One thrust, hard and fast but not too hard, the same pleasant hardship she bites into my nipple at the same time, has me coming again.
When she pulls out of me now, I know she is done with quickly. She knows how I work, and she knows when I am too aroused to last long, and when we fall asleep later, we both will be wrung out of every ounce of energy.
The only thing that is going on at a slow pace now is to undress me, and herself. She will kiss and caress me and give me time to come down and when I am ready, I'll take her hand and guide it between my legs.
It annoys me a little that I didn't think about packing it. I know that at some point there will be an opportunity to let her fuck me with it. It's not like I can't have fun without it. On the contrary. The only time I ever care for a penis now is when it's attached to Jane. Jane is always very affectionate and thoughtful when using it. Most of the men I've been in bed with have fucked me, I only learned to make love with Jane.
It is something else entirely to feel her orgasm when she is inside me with it. It is not something I need on a daily base and I could have gone without it but after the first taste I welcome it occasionally.
I love her fingers inside me. A simple, almost primitive carnal connection, which through the connection of two souls becomes something very special, something really beautiful.
I have no idea why Jane is so bad at yoga. Jane is a fantastic athlete with a great body feeling, which confirms her performance on the job, on the dance floor and in bed in all dimensions. Sometimes I think she does in on purpose. She does not have the patience for yoga, although she enjoys and appreciates the benefits very much.
I look into her eyes and for a second, I waver between my desire for voluptuously sex and making out for hours. In moments like these, I sometimes can hardly believe my luck. The luck of having found the love of my life and to be able to enjoy it to the fullest. I bite my tongue to not ask her to make me another baby.
"Fuck me, Jane," I whisper directly into her ear and like always she whispers back 'I love you, baby.'
It's not just being said, but in that context, it sometimes sounds like an apology in advance.
An apology that is absolutely unnecessary. There is absolutely never anything that Jane should apologize for. Absolutely nothing she does has ever displeased me. On the contrary. There are really few things that I wouldn't try with Jane and absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for her.
My breath catches and my hands clutch the muscles of her back as if by themselves the moment she penetrates me, her hip used to slide deeper inside me.
It's hardly the most practical way to have sex, at least not for her. Her arm trapped between our bodies. Classic missionary position, only it's Jane's fingers inside me. It takes a lot more effort for Jane, I know that from my own experience. The muscles in her arm will eventually burn from the restricted movement.
I love to have Jane this close to me. She will be moving very slowly at first, I also know how Jane works. I think it will forever be on me to dictate the pace. She is not going to deny me anything, she never will, but when it comes to sex, she respects me sometimes a tad too much. It doesn't bother me. I think a lot of women would envy me for her, a partner who always puts their own needs second.
She can't really get away with it, but I don't know if she understands that I betray her a little every now and then. I don't have the same natural inhibitions and sometimes I do something that she would like to do but can't. Maybe can't isn't the right word… it's difficult to describe. Sometimes I think she tries to not sexualize me.
Sometimes, when we kiss, on the sofa, in bed, or just at the kitchen counter I feel her fingers twitch on my ribs. I gently take her hand and lead it to my breast because it feels like she wants to and needs some little help and when I ask her to do something she will do it and she doesn't have to feel bad about it. It's Jane and it's absolutely cute and doesn't bother me the slightest.
I breathe right into her ear because I know it totally turns her on, canting my hip to meet her, slowly at first, slow and long strokes before I pick up the pace bit by bit. I am not going to torture her much longer with our position, I love it but it is a better fit for slow and tender sex.
I turn us around slowly, keeping our upper bodies in full contact for a while before I sit up. I place my hands on her stomach before I slowly start to roll my hips. Who the hell needs a rigid object like a penis, artificially or naturally. Jane's fingers are so long and flexible and talented.
Some might say there is no talent needed as I was fucking myself on her fingers right now, but talented she is. Sex does a lot of good things to your body, not only orgasming. That's why I had also mostly enjoyed every sexual encounter, before Jane. It was a way to connect to a living human being for me, even for a little while, to feel being seen. I had made my peace with it while it lasted, my body made up for the difficult personality of mine.
Jane loves me unconditional. I don't have to compromise to buy her love. Every little thing about me that upsets other people and makes them flee is something that made Jane fall in love with me. And it's totally honest, Jane couldn't look me in the eye if she was lying about it. Jane is really talented, but that unconditional love is what also makes the sex so much better.
I no longer have sex because I want to be close to another human being or to get a boost of confidence. Of course I want to be close to her, sometimes even a tad too much and for the boost of confidence, oh boy. We make love because it's fun, because I love Jane, because I desire Jane, because I love Jane so much that this love would tear me apart if we didn't vent these feelings regularly.
See, it doesn't matter if she's fucking me or if I am fucking myself right now. I am fairly sure she will be the one fucking me in a few minutes. If I have a say in it, it will be flat on my front and on my back and sitting on her lap, preferably with her sitting up, too and if I get really lucky on not having died until then I am getting one standing up, very likely in the shower and after that she will make sweet love to me before we fall asleep.
The very best of our nights together is right before falling asleep. Cuddled together. The warmth, the smell, the sound of each breath taken, slowing down heartbeats. In the end it doesn't come down to having sex, being pleasured.
My eyes meet hers, my breath taken away.
"You are so strong," I whisper, leaning down, kissing the skin right above her heart. "Here and here." The last while kissing her forehead. "You are so beautiful, Jane."
She can hardly take a compliment. She doesn't think of herself as beautiful or smart. She is just Jane and words like beautiful and smart and gorgeous and sexy are words she associates with someone like me. She is all of it and not only because she is lying naked underneath me, doing things to me some consider illegal, and not only illegal because we are a gay couple.
R & I R&I R&I R&I R&I R&I R&I R&I
It is well into the morning hours and I have already dozed off several times but with Jane still caressing my back I am nearly wide awake again.
"Can I ask you something?"
Jane kisses my temple. "Sure."
"You know I love you the way you are", Jane cuts me off. "Usually there follows a 'but', wow…"
"No, it doesn't. There is no 'but'. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. I want to understand something, Jane. Why don't you touch me, outside of having sex?"
"What? I touch you, I kiss you, at least that's what I remember."
"I didn't mean it like that. I know you do. I mean in a more sexual manner, like you do when you had a beer to many."
"I… does it bother you?"
"No. Absolutely not! I would just like to know if there is a reason you don't."
"Yes. You see… wow… I just was never going to tell you. I felt so ashamed of myself…"
"There is no need…"
"Our first lunch…, when I whispered in your ear, in line. I watched you and mused about your clothes and how those heels made your legs and your butt looking like something I would gladly trade my sandwich for to have a taste. When I realized what I was thinking, I wished I could have bleached my brain for thinking something like that, suddenly I felt like one of those morons who tend to think with their penis, if thinking at all. I swore to myself that I would never ever sexualize you in any way again…"
"First time I saw you, I tried to calculate a sum I had to bid for you to fuck me."
"Um…"
"There is nothing to be ashamed of. You see it wasn't fair of me to reduce you to the work you did, according to that horrible outfit and makeup and it wasn't fair to gauge a sum you were to desperate to decline because you had woken something in me I didn't know until then. I pictured it as if it was already happening. How you would have me brought to orgasm in different ways and how you would have me begging for another hour. "
I kiss her and lead her hand up to my breast.
"I want you to touch me, Jane. You have every right to do so. I am not going to feel like some object because you want to touch me, but if you can't I can still do it for you." I lead her other hand to my other breast.
Most of us know that sex is not always soft and clean but I struggle most of the time writing anything but soft with the both of them. I remember the few fanfiction I've read, I always disconnected with the story when it came to sex. Maybe I am just a wimp, but to me mostly Maura was turned into this kind of sex-monster.
Don't get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong however people like to have sex, but I absolutely cannot connect to a Maura swearing like a sailor as soon as her clothes come off, I absolutely cannot connect to a Maura who puts performance in bed above all else and I absolutely cannot connect to a Jane who treats Maura like a hooker from the corner of the worst area.
Though I think also prostitutes need to be treated like the human being they are, but I hope you understand what I meant to say.