Mothers and Disappointment- Lewis Nixon x OFC
(This is a re write of an old piece)
Warning: This piece is very smutty! You've been warned.
The single tallow candle was almost burned out, the white wax dripping and hardening on the expensive mahogany desk upon which it rested. Turning her head to the side, she watched the faint light flickering across Nixon's face; his dark stubble even more pronounced against the paleness of his skin, and the circles around his eyes spoke more about his state of being than his words ever could.
Then again, the fact that he had chosen to spend the night drinking with someone who wasn't an officer, and someone who he had stumbled upon by accident, crying in an empty room trying to process everything she had seen at the camp, spoke of Nixon's desperation to forget the things haunting him as well.
Despite Cecelia Johnson from Fulton County, Georgia, being of the same rich, well bred stock as Lewis Nixon, in this world of war they were at opposite ends of the hierarchy. In this world, they were miles apart.
"She doesn't even like the dog," Nixon muttered, reaching for the bottle of Vat 69 on the floor between them. "She hates him in fact."
"I'm sorry, sir," Cecelia eyed him sadly, genuinely feeling pity for the man. It didn't matter that he didn't love his wife– they all knew that– it was just so sad that Kathy couldn't even wait for him to get back from war to dismantle the life they shared together. One that was no doubt like that of Cecelia's parents; a marriage of status and nothing more.
"Only thing you should be sorry for is that I've told you at least three times to call me Lew," he answered. "We're drunk enough right now that ranks certainly don't matter."
"I know, but still…" she pulled a face; one that her mother would have eyed her with complete disdain for.
"Oh come on, Cece," Lewis smirked. "You were rebellious enough to piss off your mother by joining the airborne, surely calling me by my name is nothing."
"I guess," she smiled. "My mama was real mad when she found out. She tried to get my daddy to forbid me. Unluckily for her, my daddy can never say no to me for anything."
"Spoiled little rich girl," he teased.
"Once upon a time, definitely," she was ashamed to admit.
"Nah, see I don't buy that for even a second," Lewis shifted so he could turn to look at her properly, his eyes falling upon the scar on her right cheek from where she had been caught with a piece of shrapnel on D-Day. He couldn't recall once hearing her complain about it even once. "I know spoiled rich girls– I'm married to one– and you might be rich but you certainly aren't spoiled. Hell, any girl I know from our world would have crumbled that first day in Toccoa instead of going toe to toe with Sobel like you did."
"Mama always said I was too wilful and disobedient for my own good," she grinned at the memory of her fight with Bill when he couldn't keep his hands to himself, even playfully. "She said I'm never going to find a man who'll marry me if I don't know how to behave and look pretty, and especially not now I'm gallivanting around Europe, no doubt sinning with hot blooded, war lust filled men."
"Your mother's wrong," Lewis snorted, taking another sip from the bottle before handing it to Cecelia. "I married Miss meek and obedient; Miss never has a hair out of place and Miss always uses fine china, and you know what, Cece? I'd take Miss wilful and disobedient any day of the week; she's a lot more fun."
"And so's the sinning," Cecilia muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "To mothers and disappointment."
Lifting the bottle to her lips, Cecelia tilted her head back against the wall to drink, affording Lew a glimpse of lightly freckled alabaster skin, and she a drop of whiskey tricked down her chin and onto her neck, his tongue darted out between his lips, suddenly desperate to lick it from her.
"What?" she croaked, catching sight of his darkened and slightly hooded eyes upon her.
"Nothing," he swallowed, snatching the Vat 69 and finishing the remainder of the bottle in three long pulls.
"I think maybe I should get to bed," Cecelia's legs were trembling as she stood, wondering why the look on Nixon's face had her stomach opening up like a pit of molten lava.
"Hm," he stood as well, tossing the bottle to the ground. "Should probably do the same; we're heading out early in the morning."
Well, in that case, good night then, sir," she mumbled, heading towards the door, coming to a stop when Nixon spun her around with a gentle hand on her shoulder so that she was facing him.
"Lew," he murmured, taking her face in his hands, watching the confusion and desire play out across her delicate features simultaneously.
"Lew?" she breathed questioningly when one of his hands trailed down to her neck, holding her in place and applying just enough pressure for her chest to start heaving in anticipation.
"Yeah, Lew," he murmured. "The only thing I wanna hear coming out of your mouth when I make you cum in a minute."
"Fuck," she licked at her lips while she stared at his own.
"That works too."
… … …
"Where the fuck were you all night?"
Cecelia knew she was blushing, but even if she wasn't she knew that Liebgott would know if she lied to him. Since Toccoa, he had somehow cemented himself as her closest friend– most likely because they were as snarky as one another when they wanted to be– and he could read her like a book.
"Who was it? Don't tell me it was Luz. I know we're all struggling with this dry spell, Cece, but have some fucking self respect."
"Firstly, there's nothing wrong with George," Cecelia rolled her eyes. "But it wasn't him. It was just some local guy. I don't even know his name so I wouldn't bother asking."
"Well I say good for you, Cece," Skinny slapped her on the shoulder and grinned. "At least someone's getting some action around her."
"Who's getting some action?" Perconte slung his bag up onto the back of the truck.
"Cece," George appeared out of nowhere, cigarette in mouth. "Good on you, doll."
"How was it?" Perconte asked, climbing up onto the truck and wedging himself in between Liebgott and Cecelia. "Was he good? Did he-?"
"Can we stop this conversation please?" she shot him a warning look. "I don't wanna be talking about this with all of you."
"Oh come on," George put his hands together in a prayer-like position. "We always tell you about our sexcapades."
"Who's having sexcapades?" Nixon enquired as he walked past, his lips twitching at the corners when Cecelia wouldn't even look at him.
"Cecelia here," Liebgott smirked, enjoying seeing her squirming in her seat with embarrassment.
If only Joe had realised that her squirming was because all she could think about in that moment was Nixon's mouth devouring her, or the way he had pulled at her hair as he fucked her against the door and then across the table.
"Lucky Cecelia," he grinned widely now before making his way to his own jeep where Winters was waiting for him.
"Hmm," Liebgott murmured, his eyes searching her face for something when he noticed the way she finally looked up again the second Nixon disappeared out of sight. "Lucky Cecelia indeed."
… … …
The sun was high in the sky, shining down upon them with an intensity that had Cecelia sweating like a whore in church. It definitely had nothing to do with the way Nixon's eyes kept finding her own as they meandered through the Austrian mountains, sending her heart racing and her legs squeezing together.
"Would you just pee already?" Perconte had muttered the last time they stopped for a ten minute toilet break.
"I'm fine," she had scowled back. "I'll wait to pee in a real toilet when we get where we're going."
Finally, they arrived at their new home for however long the higher ups decided, and Cecelia jumped out of the truck and took off running for the hotel that had been pointed out as their new accommodation, squealing with delight when she reached the top floor bedroom that she had been given to all by herself.
Bladder emptied and body cleansed thanks to an obscenely long bubble bath in a tub that was almost big enough to swim in, Cecelia was finger combing her hair in the mirror and humming to herself when she saw a figure appear behind her.
"Jesus christ on a fucking bike," she yelped, spinning around to face the intruder and placing a hand ot her chest to still her wildly racing heart. "Captain Nixon, sir, you scared me half to death. How'd you manage to sneak in here so quickly."
"Easily," he grinned, eyeing her boldly right from her soaking wet auburn waves to the bottom of her fluffy white towel which barely reached the middle of her thighs. It was there that his face sobered instantly. "I needed to talk to you… about last night."
"If this is about what the guys were saying then you should know that I didn't tell them anything about it being you," she said quickly. "Liebgott noticed I was missing last night and -"
"As long as it stays that way then it's fine," he cleared his throat, his gaze tracing her full lips, the bottom of which was caught in between her straight white teeth as she chewed it apprehensively.
"You've got nothing to worry about, sir," she promised him, folding her arms around herself slightly as she waited for him to leave. "Sir?" she frowned when he took a step closer. "Lew?"
He smiled then; a predatory expression that made her back right up against the sink.
"You learn quick," he muttered, yanking away the towel from her body at the same time as he smashed his lips against hers.
"Lew, sir, I- fuck," she groaned when his fingers slid inside of her without warning, his other hand gripping at her face to hold her in place.
His tongue met with hers, circling, suckling, as his thumb moved to her clit, pressing firmly and then softly as his fingers fucked her mercilessly.
Her hands reached for Lewis' uniform, yanking and sending buttons flying, grinning against his mouth when she could slide her hands inside of his trousers to grasp his hard, velvety length, squeezing lightly when he ground against her hand. Her thumb brushed against his tip and she tore her mouth from his so that she could bring her pre cum soaked digit to her mouth to suck, her eyes boring into him mischievously as he watched her through parted lips.
Gasping when Lewis' fingers grew more insistent between her legs, edging her closer to release, she growled in frustration when he pushed her away from him just as she was about to reach her peak.
"Get on the bed," he ordered, toeing off his boots impatiently and yanking off his clothes hurriedly.
He took himself in hand, pumping up and down as he watched Cecelia climb onto the bed, eyeing him expectantly.
Pulling her to the edge of the bed, he turned her over and smacked her soundly on the rear, bringing his cock in between her rosy cheeks, rubbing his head against her before pushing inside of her moist lips until he was seated to the hilt.
"Fuck Lew," Cecelia gasped when he pulled out slowly before pushing back in instantly.
Manoeuvring her so that she was on all fours with her ass sticking up at just the right angle, he began to fuck her hard; without mercy as his hands were everywhere all at once, touching her with such possessiveness that Cecelia could barely breathe.
Her teeth were clacking inside of her head as he fucked her at a brutal and punishing pace, edging her closer and closer to release time and time again before pulling out just before she could go over.
"Please Lew," she begged, one hand clutching at the bed sheet desperately while the other reached around to touch him, only to have Lewis pin it behind her back as his hips snapped in frantic chase of his own release.
His breath came out in short, sharp huffs and the second he felt Cecelia clenching around him with a cry of passion as she finally went over the edge, he pulled out and pressed himself once more between her ass cheeks just in time to spill into her with a grunt, collapsing over her, pressing his sweaty chest to her back and nuzzling at her neck as his moving hips milked the last of his orgasm.
"You alright?" he murmured, kissing just below her ear.
"Uh huh," was the only reply she could muster.
Flopping down onto the bed, Cecelia frowned when Lewis pulled her against his side, wrapped one arm around her while the other reached for the cigarettes she had flung on the bedside table before her bath. Lighting one, he held it to her lips before bringing it back to his own, breathing out a long exhale of smoke as his eyes grew heavy.
"What are we doing, Lew?" Cecelia asked sleepily, her eyes closed and her body feeling heavy.
"We're cuddling," he answered as though it should have been obvious to her.
"We don't cuddle."
"We didn't fuck until yesterday either," he smirked. "Now we fuck and now we cuddle too."
"And I take it that's just a here thing?" she nestled tighter into his side.
"Here, New Jersey, Fulton County," he shrugged. "Wherever we like. I told you I like them wilful and disobedient, Cece. What I forgot to add was that I like them just like you."
… … …
She looked so prim and proper and so damn innocent in her peach coloured knee length dress with three quarter length sleeves and dainty lace gloves. Nixon smirked to himself when he thought about how she's been anything but innocent that morning with her lips wrapped around his-
"Lovely service, wasn't it?" Cecelia's mother interrupted his thoughts, appearing in front of him wearing a hat big enough for an entire stick of paratroopers to fly on.
"Lovely," he nodded with a polite smile as he tore his gaze from Cecelia, who was talking with the minister, and towards her mother instead.
"Your wedding service could be just as nice," Mrs Johnson eyed him pointedly.
"And I'm sure it will be… when we eventually have one," he answered diplomatically.
"And until then you and my daughter will just keep living in sin, gallivanting all over the world?"
"We're not gallivanting, mama," Cecelia appeared, wrapping her arms around Lew's arm and smiling up at him adoringly. "We're travelling and we're enjoying our life together."
"That's all good and well but what about children and marriage, Cecelia? Do you think Lewis won't want to trade you in for someone better when that time comes? Someone more like the proper young lady you were raised to be and not whatever you've become now?"
"I think that when the time comes for us to settle down and think about starting a family, ma'am, I sincerely hope any girls we have give us as much of a run around as your daughter gives me, and you," Lewis smirked, pressing his lips to Cecelia's temple in a rare display of public affection. "Now, I believe there's a table waiting at the country club with our name and a piece of steak on it. Care to join us?"
Cecelia's mother's pursed lips and harrumph of indignation was all the answer he needed, and as she stormed off as delicately as any well bred woman of society could, Cecelia reached around and spanked Lewis playfully on the butt.
"She's never going to like you if you continue to antagonise her every time we visit."
"I don't want her to like me," he grinned.
"Then what do you want?"
"You," he took her by the hand and led her to their car, pushing her against the side of it where they were hidden from the other churchgoers. "On the bonnet with your legs wrapped around my head while I-"
"There's a dirt track that's hardly used down that way," she kissed him desperately, toeing off her expensive black heels and shimmying her underwear down her legs.
"What are you doing?" he laughed.
"Getting a head start," she answered, throwing her knickers at him and taking off at a run, turning her head briefly to grin at him. "Race you there."
