Part Two Hundred And Seven
At around half past eight on the Sunday evening, Karen was standing out on the balcony that led from the lounge come bar, that had been set aside for the conference delegates. Balconies were the only places in this extremely expensive hotel in the centre of Manchester, where an addict like herself could partake of their vice. She had her back to the closed sliding doors, and was leaning on the rail that surrounded the balcony. She was quite alone out here, blowing elegant smoke rings up at the early October sky. Her whole body resonated with tension, every single one of her nerve endings being on red alert, for the merest signal from anyone, who might be interested in helping her relieve some of this outbreak of lust and frustration, that appeared to have taken over her this weekend. She wasn't quite sure why she was in so much need of some sexual release, except that she knew that intense physical feelings, might just go some way to temporarily stop her from dwelling on everything that had happened over the last couple of months. But wasn't that what she'd done with Ritchie, using the almost violent fucking he'd given her to blot out all the hurt she couldn't seem to exorcise after what Fenner had done to her, and what she'd in turn done to Mark? Yes, Karen was perfectly well aware that this was what she wanted, what she was intent on doing, but that didn't stop her from needing the type of explosive screw Ritchie had given her.
John had been watching Karen all weekend. He'd seen the gradual rise in tension, her entire body giving off a heightened lust that couldn't fail to attract him. She hadn't gone out of her way to broadcast the fact, because Karen wasn't one to make a fool of herself in public, if she could help it. But if any man had looked like he was about to approach her, John had only needed to give them one of his warning looks, for them to back off. He couldn't help it. Karen might want to sleep with some nameless stranger, possibly to let out some of the pain of the last couple of months, but he wasn't going to let her. Anything might happen to her if she entrusted that kind of emotional release to a stranger's hands. If anyone was going to aid her in this quest for emotional release, it was him. She needed looking after, if she really wanted to do this, not to be taken advantage of by some young, rutting stud who thought she was fair game.
He'd seen her walk out onto the balcony, and so as not to make it obvious to the surrounding company, he gave her a little while before following her. She was still alone when he joined her, standing with her back to him, clearly smoking. He closed the sliding door behind him, not wanting or inviting anyone to join them. His long, measured stride told her exactly who it was who had come to disturb her peace. She didn't say anything as he walked up behind her, knowing that he had far more to lose than she did, by initiating a conversation that could only lead to one, inevitable conclusion. She remained with her back to him, not giving him the slightest sign that she was aware of his presence. When he slid his arms round her waist from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder, she took one last drag of her cigarette and discarded its still glowing end over the side of the balcony. He could smell a combination of her cigarette smoke, the perfume she always wore, and the shampoo she'd used on her hair that morning. "What are you doing here?" She asked with a soft smile, thinking she already knew. "Well, someone had to ensure that you didn't end up in bed with any one of those men who've been after you all weekend. I don't know whether or not you're aware of it, but you're exuding sexual arousal and frustration, with enough force to call even the Pope out of celibacy." Karen laughed softly. "And just why would you have a problem with my taking my frustration out on some random stranger?" "Because I think you need looking after." "Oh, that's a first," Karen said with a hint of sarcasm. "For you to think a woman needs looking after. I thought it was your usual practice, when playing away from home so to speak, to thoroughly enjoy the chase, sleep with them, and then be gone before they wake up in the morning." "And that, isn't fair," John said slowly, seeing her sniping as just another sign of how much she needed some kind of release. "So, Mr. Wise Guy," Karen said challengingly. "Precisely what do you intend to do about it?" "What would you like me to do about it?" He said into her ear, in that deep, incredibly erotic tone that had her senses reeling. "You're the one with a choice to make here," She said, laying her hands over his, which were still resting at her waist. "I've got absolutely nothing to lose, but you have." "The first rule of adultery," He said almost matter-of-factly. "Is that the woman one is attempting to seduce, should never, ever, remind one of their responsibilities. It just isn't done." "Oh, a little piece of seduction etiquette known the world over, I suppose," She said dryly. "Of course. So, I reiterate, how would you like me to relieve your little case of, frustration?" He hesitated over the word, his lips grazing her neck, and then her ear lobe. She had to fight down the urge to turn round then and there and to take what he had to offer, right here and now, right on this very balcony. Taking his hands in hers, she led them up to her magnificent breasts. He hadn't expected such a forward approach from her, but he had to admit that it made things an awful lot simpler. As he gently caressed these two finest of her assets, she breathed in slowly through her nose, so as to prevent herself from groaning at the pleasure of his touch. But when two fingertips simultaneously grazed over both her nipples, he could feel the shiver that ran the length of her entire body. When she turned to face him, his left arm slid back around her waist, and his right hand remained with its former pursuit. He could see the burning fire of passionate need in her eyes, the smouldering touch paper of his hands, having set her inner cauldron of pure lust well and truly alight. When their lips met, it briefly felt to both of them as if they were coming home. It had been almost two years since their first and last encounter, but that didn't stop either of them from remembering what it had been like that time. They couldn't possibly forget that occasion, it having been so explosively satisfying. They'd exchanged a kiss in all that time, just before Karen had gone on holiday, but that was almost insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They moved somewhat haphazardly over to a wrought iron bench to one side of the balcony, dropping onto it in a tangle of pliable lips and wandering hands. "We shouldn't be doing this, John," Karen said a little breathlessly. "Do you want to stop?" He asked between kisses. "No," She answered almost desperately, thinking that she might just internally combust, if John were to pull out now.
"Well, then, leave any regret, if there really needs to be any, until tomorrow." "But you've so much to lose by doing this." "And you haven't?" He challenged her. "Well, yes, but…" "Then don't think about it," He said, undoing the top two buttons of her blouse. "Jo and George, and your self-respect, will all still be here tomorrow." "I suppose so," She acquiesced, taking his hand in hers, to prevent it from undoing more of her buttons. "But before this goes any further, there's something I need to ask you." "Ask away," He said, putting his arms round her, because he could see that this was something serious that definitely required his full attention. But once prompted, Karen didn't know what to say. She just couldn't find the right words to tell him what she wanted. "It can't be that bad," He said with a fond smile, but this didn't make Karen feel any better. "What I would very much like you to do for me, and which would do me all the good in the world, is for you to be rough with me." John drew slightly back from her, so that he could look her in the eye. "Precisely why," He said very slowly and deliberately. "Do you want me to treat you, in the same way that Ritchie Atkins did?" Karen's eyes widened with the realisation that she'd been found out. "Alcohol certainly doesn't dull your brain," She said dryly, to cover up her nervousness. "Did you really expect me not to make the connection?" "I hoped you wouldn't," Karen said quietly. "Well, I did. So, tell me why, and I might just think about it." Karen tried to turn her gaze away from him, but laying a hand on her cheek served to keep her still looking at him. "In spite of the endless stream of horrific events that my sleeping with Ritchie initiated, I badly needed what he gave me. Just for a brief amount of time, it allowed me to forget about the feelings I didn't know how to deal with. The sheer physical intensity of it made me able to temporarily forget about Fenner, and about Mark and about the hell I was putting Mark through at the time. In his own way, Ritchie gave me some emotional respite, simply by giving me the most intense, most violent, and at the same time optional, screw I'd ever had in my life. Does that make sense?" "Yes, but that doesn't tell me why you want that from me." "I need a break from everything that's going on in here," She said, gesturing to her forehead. "And I think, that if my body is engaged in something as physically intense as some fairly rough sex, it might take me away from everything for a while." It pained John immeasurably to hear her say this, to admit that the only way she could find release, was through being treated, let's face it, as one of the whores who graced King's Cross. But here she was, asking him to treat her roughly, to hold her down, and to take what she was offering, as vigorously as possible. He refused to accord the words forcefully or violently to what she wanted, because if he did, he wouldn't even be able to consider it. After mulling the concept over for a few minutes, he gently tilted her face up to his, and kissed her. "What was that for?" She asked softly. "It's not a yes, at least not so far it's not, but it means I'm considering it." "I will understand if it's not something you want to contemplate." "If an explosive orgasm is what you're after, then that can be achieved just as easily by gentler means." "I know, but being gentle takes time, and time isn't something I want to have any of. I don't want to not enjoy this, just because I end up drifting away to far darker recesses, just when you're trying to get me going. If this is going to be successful, I need it to be as fast and as furious as possible." He wanted to help her, he really did, but John couldn't be certain that he could go through with this. He thought far too much of Karen, to risk their entire friendship on one night's success or failure. Detaching himself from her, he walked to the other end of the balcony. He knew that Karen would never hold it against him if he couldn't go through with this, but his pride was putting in an appearance. He had never, ever refused to sleep with a woman, on the grounds of something she wanted him to do for her. There wasn't much he hadn't tried in all his years of philandering, most of his new experiences having been with George, though not all of them. He could remember the time George had confessed to wanting to be tied up. He hadn't entirely understood it, but he'd known that if she wanted to be freed, she would either tell him immediately, or undo the bonds herself, as he never fastened them very tightly. But this was different. Karen hadn't spelt it out like this, but she was asking him to treat her body as an object, not as the outer shell of a woman whom he cared deeply for. Walking slowly back towards her, John knew that he had to do it. This was Karen, his dearest, closest friend, and she was crying out to him, to help her blot out her grief and her pain, for just a little while. Yes, he could say no, if he really wanted to, but he didn't. If this was her way of obtaining a few moment's respite from her inner torture, then who was he to deny her that. Stopping in front of her, he reached down, took her hand, and gently pulled her up towards him. When his arms went about her and his lips descended on hers, she could tell immediately what his decision was. But her feeling was confirmed, when he said between kisses, "Your place or mine?" Her lips curving up into a smile, she took his hand, and led him back inside, and up to her room on the eighth floor.
He kissed her as they rode up in the lift, wholly unable to keep his hands off her now that the permission had been given. As soon as the door of her room closed behind them, they were almost tearing at each other's clothes, desperate to be skin to skin as quickly as possible. "Are you sure this is what you want?" She asked, as the duvet was cast aside with a practised flick and they fell onto the bed. "Shouldn't it be me asking you that?" He said with a laugh, touching her nipples which were already painfully hard. "I've done this before," She said succinctly, reaching down to wrap a skilful hand around him. "If it's still what you want, then yes, I'm sure," He told her, his voice a little unsteady from her ministrations. When he slipped his hand between her legs, he could feel how wet and responsive she already was. "You're just about ready to explode," He said with a smile. "I could say the same for you," Karen replied, running her thumb over the drop of moisture that welled up from him. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you some particularly good oral to start with?" He asked, not sure how long he would last at this rate. "No," She said, her breathing noticeably quickening as he manipulated her clitoris. "I need you, inside me, now," She pleaded. Taking her at her word, he moved between her eagerly spread legs, and with one last questioning glance at her, he launched himself inside her. It having been two years since she'd had John inside her, Karen felt his entry far more than she normally would have done. It didn't exactly hurt, but she could feel the slight protesting of her delicate female flesh, telling her that if he really was rough with her, she was going to feel it in the morning. Immediately he was sheathed within her, John clung to her shoulders, driving himself into her as forcefully as he could. Karen couldn't believe it, he was incredible! Of course, she'd known that from the last time she'd had sex with this man, but she'd never thought he would be quite so good at giving her exactly what she needed. She could feel every thrust, every stab of his manhood deep inside her, branding her internal walls with the fire that existed between them. John could feel it just as much as she could, her insides gripping him every time he slammed into her. At one point, he found himself gripping her upper arms, actually holding her down to the bed, though she didn't seem to mind. He didn't entirely know what had taken over him, except that his body was acting of its own accord. He couldn't have stopped now if he'd tried. It was the registering of this thought in his brain that caused a feeling of total horror to well up inside him. But even this couldn't make him stop what he was doing. As her arms were held down, she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on to further endeavour, and as his thrusts sped up, he unconsciously squeezed her arms even tighter, digging his fingers into her flesh, holding her still to take what he had to give her. As their mutual orgasm approached, Karen looked up into his face, seeing there a pain so acute, that she almost cried out from the force of it. Her body squeezed around him as she came, her abused flesh screaming at the contraction of her muscles.
As John gently eased himself out of her, Karen realised that he'd definitely bruised if not slightly torn her down there. He slumped to one side of her, his arms going round her to comfort himself more than her, she could sense immediately. He laid his cheek on her breast, and they were silent. Karen could feel a heavy weight begin to settle on her, as if there hadn't been one there already, but this was different. She really shouldn't have done that with John, because he clearly hadn't known what he was getting into. She'd seen the pain and the shock, and yes, even the horror in his face as he'd climaxed, all his feelings having been laid bare for her to see. When their breathing quietened, they lay still, neither of them knowing what to say. But when she felt the trickle of a tear on her skin, she tilted his face up to hers. It brought tears to her own eyes to see them in his, not a sight she'd previously witnessed. "Don't cry," She told him hoarsely, wiping away a tear with her finger. "I can't believe I just did that to you," He said brokenly. "Do you have any idea what that makes me?" "John, it doesn't make you anything," She tried to persuade him, hearing the utter self-loathing in his voice. "Just look at you," he said almost in anger, sitting up so that he could survey the wreckage of her body. "Never, not in my entire life, have I ever given a woman a bruise. Your arms are covered in them! And god knows what else I've done to you," He added, gesturing at the lower half of her body. "Nothing that won't heal," She said quietly. "John, listen to me," She cajoled, pulling him back down to lie beside her. "You haven't done anything wrong, I promise you." "Karen, I virtually raped you," He said, stunning himself into silence at his own accusation. "No, you didn't, John," She told him firmly but gently. "I know what being raped feels like, and believe me, this isn't it. If anything, it's the other way round. I shouldn't have asked you to do this, and I certainly shouldn't have accepted your assurances that you knew what you were doing. If there is any guilt to be felt with this, it is mine and mine alone. I am so sorry for putting you in this situation," She added, the tears now running down her own cheeks. They simply held each other, both feeling an immense surge of regret that they'd done this to each other. "Come on," Karen said a little while later. "We've got a lot of talking to do, and we may as well do it in that enormous tub next door," She said, referring to the decadently furnished en suite of her hotel room. But as they made to get up, Karen gasped from the soreness that the movement accorded her. As she filled the huge, marble bathtub, and critically examined herself in the full-length mirror, John poured them both a glass of chilled Chablis from the minibar. He was outraged with himself for doing something so despicable to one of his closest friends, but he had to agree that talking it out now, rather than leaving it to fester, would possibly be better for both of them.
When they were lying in the warm water, two glasses of wine within easy reach, neither of them knew where to begin. Karen was reclining in the crook of his right arm, and he was playing with a lock of her hair. "Did this achieve what you wanted it to achieve?" He asked eventually, feeling that this was as good a place as any to start. "Yes," She said quietly. "It did. It stopped me thinking, because all I could focus on was the feeling..." She couldn't quite put a name to it. "...The feeling of being hurt?" He supplied. "That isn't how I'd really describe it, but yes, if you like. You could say that the physical sensation took over everything else." "It's only a short term solution though, isn't it." "Yes, but I thought it would be a bloody good one. I knew that if you took your time about it, did your usual thing of actually making me feel sexy, it wouldn't work." "Why so sure?" He asked, assuming that given the opportunity, he could have made Karen forget in a far more gentle and satisfying way. "John, for a woman to really enjoy sex, they have to be mentally aroused as well as physically, which I'm not sure I'm capable of being at the moment. I needed you then and there, because just for a short while, I did feel aroused and I didn't want to lose it." "Did you orgasm through that?" "Yes, though from what I could see in your face at the time, I wish I hadn't." "It might sound ridiculous," He said carefully. "But I felt as though my body had taken over. I wasn't in control any more, and I couldn't have stopped, even if you'd begged me to stop. It made me feel, well, feel a bit like Fenner." "John, listen to me," Karen said firmly. "I don't ever want you to feel like that. Fenner was an evil, sadistic bastard who took whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. I couldn't ever say any of those things about you, not ever." "But I hurt you," He protested. "John, I asked you to do this to me. That means that no, you certainly didn't take it by force. Tell me, when I asked you to do this for me, what did you think you were getting into?" He took a moment to mull this over, taking a sip from his glass of wine. "I knew what you wanted," He said slowly. "You wanted some very hard, straight sex, to stop you from dwelling on everything that's happened over the last few months. If you'd asked me to be violent with you, I never would have agreed to it, because being remotely violent towards a woman just isn't in my nature. You remember that pretty bad row I had with George, back in April? Well, during that, I almost slapped her. But I didn't, I managed to restrain myself. The point is, when I was doing that to you tonight, I couldn't stop, I didn't have any control over what my body was doing to yours. That's what frightened me, that I didn't have any control over my own actions." "I'm sorry," She said quietly. "I'm sorry that I asked you to do that. I didn't ever want to hurt you, that's the last thing I'd want to do. I asked you on the spur of the moment, because I suppose I thought that at least you wouldn't think any less of me for suggesting it. I thought that if you really weren't sure about it, you'd say no, and that would be the end of it. I really wouldn't have blamed you for saying no, because I know it's something you have to be absolutely certain about." "I don't think I was expecting my body to take over in the way it did," He told her, thinking that they both should have discussed it some more before actually embarking on it.
They lapsed into silence for a while, occasionally sipping from their wine, and both away with their thoughts. When Karen slipped her arms round him, his gaze focussed back on her. "The fact that you think you hurt me, isn't all that's bothering you, is it?" She asked, thinking that she might have worked out what his real problem was with what they'd done, but knowing that he had to say it. "No," He said, not entirely meeting her eyes. "You need to be honest with me, John," She gently coaxed. "Oh, do I," He said bitterly. "Yes," She said simply, placing a feather-light kiss on his slightly parted lips. "I shouldn't have enjoyed it," He said eventually, now looking completely away from her. Turning his face back to hers, Karen said, "John, just because you realised that you loathed what you were doing, yet you couldn't prevent yourself from reaching orgasm, is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of." "Oh, don't be ridiculous," He said acidly. "If I disliked it that much, that should have been prohibitive enough in itself." "The human body doesn't always work like that, John," Karen said fondly. "Especially the male one. It's not all that uncommon for someone to climax, even when they're being raped." "Did you?" He asked her, fairly sure of the answer he would get. "No," She replied. "John, if a tiny part of you did enjoy it, you shouldn't feel guilty about it." "George asked me to be rough with her once," He said, not knowing just where this had come from. "Did she?" "Yes, and I refused, because I couldn't do that to her." "So why did you say yes to doing it for me?" "Because you had possibly the most valid of all reasons for wanting such a thing." His answer was clear, unequivocal, and so John, that it made Karen smile. "That sounds like the John I know," She said softly, leaning forward to kiss him again. He kissed her back for a while, needing to feel a little like his old self once more.
It seemed perfectly natural for them to gently soap each other's bodies, their hands trying to soothe away some of the hurt they both felt they'd caused. As his hands smoothed the shower gel into the soft swell of her breasts, she bit her lip in an attempt to withhold her reaction from him. "You're so beautiful," He said between their gentle kisses. "Which makes my marking you all the more reprehensible." "What would make you feel better?" She asked, though thinking she might just know the answer. "What would stop you from feeling so out of control?" "I'd like to make love to you," He said, his thumb and forefinger coaxing her nipple to full hardness. "I think it might make me feel like myself again." "Is that why you slept with your therapist?" She asked wryly. "Possibly," He said evasively, sliding a softly seeking hand between her slightly parted legs. But as his finger delicately probed her entrance, possibly to assess the damage he'd done, she winced. "My god," He said in shock. "I really did hurt you, didn't I." "Shh," She said reassuringly. "It doesn't matter. It just means that ordinary, average sex really isn't on the cards, that's all." Moving his finger up to begin teasing her clitoris, he asked, "Would you like me to kiss it better?" Karen couldn't help but laugh. "That's one way of putting it," She said, gently removing his hand from where it still moved between her legs. "And whilst it would be incredibly soothing, I wouldn't want you to be offended if it didn't work. I can't promise that I'll get aroused by it, at least not as quickly as I did last time." He knew she was referring to the time they'd slept together after Fenner was killed, both of them able to remember how responsive she'd been. "I can last as long as you need," He told her softly, the sincere, fond expression in his eyes, putting her at her ease.
They kept touching as they got out of the bath, hands sliding familiarly over previously explored skin, reacquainting them with the textures and feelings they'd both done their damnedest to forget for the last two years. When they returned to the bed, they simply lay there holding each other for a while, allowing their deepening kisses to make them both relax. But when John detached his lips from hers, Karen briefly wondered if she should let him continue in his quest. She could already feel her thoughts drifting away to other, darker recesses, where sexual arousal certainly wasn't welcome. John seemed to sense something of this in her, as he kissed his way down to suckle on one of her nipples. He resolved to be as gentle as he knew how, to gradually allow her lust to build, or not as the case may be. He lingered over her nipples, sucking and soothing them until they could have cut diamond. He kissed his way down over her stomach, over her left hip, and slipped his tongue into the place he'd so ruthlessly abused an hour or so earlier. The subtle probings and swipings of his tongue, didn't at first make any impression on Karen, her body feeling almost detached from the thoughts steadily circling in her brain, as if they were determined to keep her from the release she so badly needed. He reached his hands up to continue stroking her breasts, and she took one of them in hers. She almost needed the reassurance that if she couldn't enjoy what he was doing for her, it wouldn't matter. He ran his thumb over her knuckles from time to time, as if to tell her that whatever she wanted, was perfectly all right with him. When his tongue probed her entrance, she found that yes, it was a little soothing to her slightly battered flesh, to be caressed by such delicate softness. It may have been the way he swept his tongue relentlessly over her clitoris, it may have been how he continuously thumbed her nipple, she didn't know, but something was gradually having an effect on her. When John heard her low groan of pleasure, he smiled. He knew that he could have gone on doing this to her for as long as she wanted it, her sweet, musky flavour being delightful to him, but it was nice to know he was doing something right. Her breathing quickened as those soft, full lips of his gently nibbled on her clitoris, the spark of pleasure lancing through her, like the electric shock she used to use to restart a patient's heart. When he quietly hummed around the flesh in his mouth, she half laughed, half cried out at the sensation. He kept alternating between nibbling and gently soothing her bud with his tongue, taking her higher and higher, until eventually, her release crashed over her, leaving her trembling from the aftershock, and with sobs of sheer emotional outpouring racking her body.
Moving back to lie beside her, he cradled her against his chest, letting her cry away some of the hurt that had been building up in her for far too long. He occasionally ran his fingers through her hair, trying to gradually calm her down. What they'd done earlier in the evening had rocked them both, knocked them temporarily off their previously chosen rails, off which she had been straying for quite some time. He kissed away some of her tears, wishing he had the freedom to cry as she was doing now. Shed a few tears he might, but never for him would come the torrent of grief that she was displaying now. Reaching for the duvet, he pulled it up over them, wrapping his body round hers, in an effort to keep them both safe until morning, to try to keep away the nightmares that could so easily haunt them both in the late night hours.