A Bowl of Fruitloops With Jesus

Cameron would forever be asking herself what it was about Ray that had drawn her in. He was average looking, not ugly, not hot. "Easy enough to look at", her mother would say. He was a solid guy. A good friend to his friends. Before the divorce, she'd thought him a fair minded person. Now, she wasn't so sure.

He had family money and he used it to get the best attorneys while she had assumed they would separate under amenable terms. Blindsided and unable to counter fast enough, she couldn't begin to hire a lawyer who could compete. And though she had never hurt for money, Ray had the means to throw an entire law firm against her. It was far from a fair fight.

'Bastard.' She thought as she told herself again that life was rarely fair.

She'd hurt him and he wouldn't be made a fool of twice. At least that was how she believed he saw it. Oh, he was all smiles with her when she picked up or dropped off their son. As far she had observed, Ray hadn't bad mouthed her outright around or directly to Greg, but she knew Ray well enough to see the resentment for her lack of interest in being married to him. That she'd rather pine over a dead man than be with Ray and their son among the living.

His argument was always the same:

"I should have fucking known you were still in love with him after the fit you threw over naming our son! And why did you really even care?! All you care about is your goddamn job. A job you don't even need, by the way. I have more than enough money for both of us to retire and raise Greg so he can have both his parents around. Not that we have to helicopter parent him, it's good for him to see us work, but open your own practice, for god's sake! Set your own hours. Be home by five and have dinner with your family — our family!"

At one point she thought that Ray had lectured her so many times she could recite along with him. He was not amused when, after having just a little too much to drink, she did.

She loved Greg. She wanted him. She'd always wanted a son. But she loathed the circumstances surrounding him. When she was finished pretending, she walked out on Ray, Greg in tow. Mothers are supposed to be the ones who raise the kid, after all.

Ray's lawyers chewed her up and spat her out.

That's when the real depression started.

The occasional night of one too many glasses of wine became the occasional night of having one too many bottles of wine and the real self-destructive behavior kicked in — the descent into House's domain. Sure, she still held the hand of her patients, but it was a means to an end. House got what he needed with bullying; she was as effective with kindness. However, at this point in her life, kindness wasn't more than a means to an end. She didn't do 'bitch' well, so she used the weapons in her arsenal.

The problem was the more success she had with the job, the more Ray took from her at home. At first, he'd been flexible with her schedule. Two days a week. Didn't matter to him which. Quickly it became strictly the weekend and holidays. Her job in the ER simply didn't work that way and soon it became only Saturday. She made it work — put the ultimatum in with her boss and decided even if she had to take Greg to daycare at work, she didn't dare ask Ray to swap a day. Even after her diagnostics team was formed and she was promised most weekends off, she couldn't get a reversal from the court to gain back Sundays.

All the while, Ray was ever so perfectly wonderful to their son. It drove her mad. Greg loved his father. There was no doubt the man hung the moon in his son's eyes. So Cameron was left licking her wounds and being grateful for that small bright side. Ray and she had, at least, made a really great kid together.

"Daddy!" Greg squealed as Cameron let go of his hand so he could run to his father, who then swept up the little boy and spun him in a circle before putting him down again, Greg giggling the whole time.

"D'ya have fun with Mommy, Sport?"

"Yep. We watched Dora and this morning Mommy let me have some fruit loops in my cheerios! And then Jesus had a bowl of fruit-loops with me. He said Santa got my list!"

Allison felt the blush forming on her neck and beginning to rush up her cheeks. Ray gave her a questioning look, knowing that she did not share in his belief in Jesus or even something as simple as going to Church once or twice a year for the holidays. No, that was another thing on the long list of reasons why she and Ray were never going to work.

"A friend I haven't seen in a few years surprise-visited me this morning. He's got a beard and his hair is longish. I guess Greg thinks he has a Jesus look. And Don's the type of guy who runs with something like that for fun. They must've had a little discussion over cereal when I was in the bathroom."

"So, Jesus guy had breakfast with you?" It was an accusation and she knew it. Funny how there are no problems with his girlfriend, but any hint of Allison having a sex life and he was ready to pounce on it as yet another sign of her being unfit to be a mother to their son.

"He stopped in early this morning, completely surprised me and he had a kid flashback when he saw the fruit loops. He was always a bottomless pit. So I poured him a bowl."

"Okay." Ray's tone was still filled with indictment, but she was over giving a damn. He would do what he was going to do. She couldn't control a damned thing about him. "Well, kiddo, sounds like an exciting morning getting to meet Jesus. Now we can go to church and you can tell your Sunday school teacher all about it. Tell Mommy 'bye' now."

Her son turns to her. She bends down and gets a bear hug in return."Love you Mommy! Have fun with Jesus!"

"Honey, that wasn't really Jesus. He was play acting, like the plays they put on at church for Easter and Christmas. His name is Don. He's just a friend of Mommy's. Okay?"

"Oh. So like when Brother Jamie pretend to be Jesus?" He recalled from the Easter play she'd been forced to attend, just so she could spend the holiday with her son.

"Yeah honey, or like when you pretend you are a superhero." He nodded in understanding.

"Don is funny. Bye Mommy!" His father swoops him up and he waves over his dad's shoulder all the way out of the lobby.

'Whew, that was close." Allison thought as she made her way to the elevators. "Fucking House! Well, Don Johnson. Only he'd be so ridiculous. At least Greg was smart enough to understand the concept of pretending for fun.' Still, she had half a mind to kill the man that she hoped was true to his word and would still be in her apartment when she returned from the lobby.

She opened the door to find herself pulled in and pushed against the wall. The door somehow shut and she was sure she heard the locks latch, but had no idea how since Don was thoroughly disrobing her simultaneously. Perhaps her own hands helped. Hard to be sure with his tongue doing such distracting things to her neck and ear.

He was strong. She'd always known that. His build showed it, despite his not being cut like a bodybuilder. She'd seen him pin a woman her size to a bathroom stall, punch out Chase, and do all manner of things with his upper body that spoke to his raw athleticism. But there was his leg, and she wondered just how long this wall session could last. "Couch…" she mumbled into his mouth as he paused for a breath between kisses.

"Probably a good idea," he conceded but made no effort to move right away, electing instead to nip on her bottom lip and draw her bare legs around him. His cock pressed against her panties through his jeans. It was a decadent friction and she was sure he was doing it just to prove he could, at least for a moment, hold her there like any other whole-bodied man.

"God, you're hard." As the reference to the deity neither believed in escaped her lips, she was reminded she was a little miffed at him for his shenanigans. "Or should I call you Jesus? The whole trinity thing makes your identity rather convoluted."

"They've both been taking credit for my work for years. I thought it'd be fun to claim a little of the glory back. I even pulled off my own resurrection, complete with a bonus erection for my favorite disciple. Besides, you know you'd enjoy fucking the son of God. But, let's be real, Jesus could never fuck you half as thoroughly as Don Johnson can and will. Also, I'm pretty sure my dick is the wrong model. Definitely could be the dick of a god, but never the dick of a Jew."

'Always the smart ass.' It turned her on even more. She wanted his Gentile cock inside her now in far less than gentle way.

"Care to put your money where your mouth is, and move this to the couch?"

"I'm ready to put the pussy where my mouth is. It's far cleaner than money and tastes way better." That's all she could take before dropping her legs and pushing him backward. He took a step back and gave her a look that screamed he wished could walk backward with more ease while kissing her senseless.

Their eyes locked and it was as intense as before. He turned quickly. Every time he looked into her eyes with unguarded passion it seemed to burn both of them.

He led her to the couch and took a seat. She thought about the logistics of oral from his seated position and figured she could stand on the couch over him and give him full access, but there was nothing for her to steady herself on near the sofa. Before she could finish figuring out her dilemma, he'd grabbed her, turned her, and pulled her panties down as he bit into her left ass cheek. She leaned forward and put her hands on the coffee table and spread her legs a little more, to give his mouth better access. Her actions were rewarded with a long, hot lick from clit to anus, then his tongue plunged inside her warm center and wiggled around shamelessly fucking her.

He was as good at kissing her pussy as he was her mouth. She'd never assumed less, but to find his mouth finally there, where she'd wanted it for as long as she had known him, was a sensation unlike any. He savored her like a decadent chocolate dessert. His hums and groans evidencing his approval of her flavor.

She was on the edge, but couldn't spill over before he grabbed her hips and pulled her down to his lap ass first, slipping himself into her skillfully. She leaned back against his chest, sweeping her hair to one side. Her head laid back onto his shoulder to give his mouth access to her neck. His hands pushed her legs together and between his — when he had managed to get rid of his jeans and roll on a condom she may never know. He was a magician this morning. His dick worked its magic on her pussy.

She placed her hands on his forearms for leverage and moved up and down meeting his thrusts. After a minute, his arms encircled her. He pushed into her hard and deep, holding her body still as his cock twitched. He was holding back his orgasm because he knew she wasn't ready. After a moment his right hand found her clit, his left her breast, and his mouth latched onto her earlobe. He worked her, all the while sliding his cock slowly against the front wall of her vagina, nailing her g-spot in ways she'd experienced few times before. His legs pressed against hers, his cock filled her completely and his fingers rubbed up and down on her clit frantically as she felt the throb of his cock shooting its load inside her, the combination had her screaming his name, his real name, just a few seconds after his release, which earned her a growl. "Fuck Cameron, your pussy is as tight, as hot, and more fucking sweet than I imagined. But, the name's Don."

"Sorry. I didn't want to die without knowing the feeling."

"Every woman should know what it feels like."