Chester's watch beeped incessantly, annoying him greatly but also making him very aware that their honeymoon was over. However, they still had a few minutes in the luxurious bed and breakfast. He looked down at the soft hand that had been gingerly placed there. Fingers slightly curled, twinging in her sleep. He smiled, watching the 'twitch' that always told him that she was always in a deep sleep. Even as newly weds, he knew things about this wonderful woman--that few other men would have learned over a lifetime and even fewer would even try to learn at all. He remembered the first day he asked her out, and in a playful but pompous way she asked him what made him so special. What made him so different. Why should she even given him a chance. That is exactly what he told her, give or take a few adjectives.

In a way, he was being pompous, and arrogant himself--but it was never arrogance if one stood by his words. He had learned so much about her since high school. Ticklish spots. Tender spots that sent her nerves trembling. Areas that made her knees buckle and her whine with wanton anticipation. But there were also things that he learned, like how he could see when she was truly hurting, hurting in a way that she needed to be supported even if she were wrong because she was scared of the outcome. That look in her starlit eyes that tried to search through his own for the answer to the question if he would be mad about what she had done or was going to say. Yet he couldn't lie to her, but what he could do was assure her it was going to be okay and give her the confidence to speak her mind or do as her heart had convicted her to do.

Chester knew, without a doubt that she was loyal to him. She would never jeopardize his love and his warmth. Just because they disagreed on something, never meant that at the end of the night they didn't say I love you, or make love like it meant something--it did. He placed his hand on her hand, tucking his fingerings in between her parted thumb. He now was holding her hand in her sleep, stroking her small knuckles with his thumb back and forth very sweetly. His head turned and he watched as his wife--such a new word to him, a word he would never tire of--slept peacefully on his collarbone.

With each peaceful, slow inhale she very lightly snored. He smiled broadly, just quietly listening to her almost child like demeanor. His eyes catching the shadows fading into the light as the sun broke above the hill crest outside the romantic retreat. He could feel her bare thigh against his own, and he could not help but admire her body--naked and bare and pressed up against his own. It was starting to become too good of a situation as he could most certainly feel lingering hormones and appetites beginning to stir. The warmth off her body was incredible, but he was her sun. He had seen her lay naked beside him--rather intentionally to tease him or to get the point across he still wasn't sure yet--and sweat when he huddled near her at her request.

But God how he admired and betrothed every part of her. His wife.

Melissa was blissfully unaware, her body feeling the only peace that one person could bring her. The kind of peace that made her completely carefree, that which only her husband could bring her. It was a feeling she had only become increasingly familiar with over the course of their honeymoon. It was only when she was when he was near that she could feel this way, it was as if even in unconsciousness her body knew that her other half was near.

Who would have thought all those years ago that the Pompous stick in the mud as Melissa dubbed him would later turn out to be her number on confident, her lover, her best friend. Laying here years later, all they had been through, Melissa couldn't bring her self to even think about regretting a second of it. She wanted him to

Suddenly Melissa was ripped out off her peaceful solitude by and incessant beeping she recognized as her husbands watch. She slowly roused from her sleep scrunching her nose as she always did. Her eyes still gently closed. "Sweetheart...didn't we talk about the watch. You know how much nicer it is just to wake up naturally." She said into his bare chest enjoying the warmth of his body underneath hers. She wrapped her arms around him as if hopping it would keep them in this very moment.

She could tell her husband had been up for some time now, by the fact that he was slowly caressing her fingers, that she could feel his eyes on her as if they were trying commit her form to memory. She was trying to do the same, but not with her eyes but with her soul. She wanted to remember the feel of him, not in the physical sense but his entire being.

Because he had become her whole world...her goals, her dreams, her everything. From the very first day they met.

He watched her stir and only grace him, giggling as her nose squinched in an about adorable manner as always. Her beautiful blue eyes concealed from the world, though he silently confessed he wished he could see them. Everyday, more than the last her eyes told him everything. From guilt to the purest heights of ecstasy, to the depths of the professing the love she had for him. He even loved the way her eyes would glimmer when she got upset or mad with him because he just could not understand something ordinary, not at least without making it into something complex. Every time she did or would begin to get mad at him, it would be like it hurt her so dearly to be actually angry with him that she began that trickle of tears. Those beautiful eyes, he adored them.

Here she lay, in the nude with him--where most guys would most certainly have gone with a more carnal approach, here he was fawning over her eyes and not her breasts, or her smooth bottom.

"Sweetheart...didn't we talk about the watch. You know how much nicer it is just to wake up naturally." She implied, he took the hint. But he wanted to play with her a bit. He snuggled his forehead down against hers as best he humanly could, smiling with devious inception.

"You're gonna like the sound of this watch I think, to a screaming baby at four in the morning. Heck, I'm already beginning to like it more." Chester snickered. With a slip of the wrist he slid the digital watch off, pressed a button that silenced the alarm and tossed it across the room. Afterwards, one of his legs hooked hers, drawing her enticingly that much closer that her half asleep attempt had done. The arm whose shoulder she had been laying on, lifted and danced its fingertips down her bare back starting at her nape and drifting lower; the fingers 'walking' down her back bone. His touch having the extraordinary power to both simultaneously massage and aroused her.

Chester took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, reciting--line for line-- his vows to Melissa. Each word a promise a swear, that he would never forget them.

"Cherished are the memories that, brought us to this day. For yesterday was just a dream, a wish to contemplate, a fantasy where in my mind, a fleeting glimpse I'd see a vision of the true desires, I longed for endlessly. And when I dreamed I did not know, the love I'd feel today; the height of my truest feelings and the depths that they would portray."

"You're gonna like the sound of this watch I think, to a screaming baby at four in the morning. Heck, I'm already beginning to like it more." He said humored by her previous notion. The thing was as tried as she would be dealing with a being a new mother, she would still be happy. Having a child with him was a dream of hers.

To have a creation that came from the love he and her had shared, would have to mean that their baby would be a reflection of that very love. That their baby would be nothing short of perfect, no matter what.

Melissa was drawn out of her thoughts, feeling her husband's strong legs drawing her body closer to his own while his finger tips walked and enticing path up and down her back. With her body nearly laying on top of his own, straddling him, she began to trace silly patterns on his chest with her finger tip. Humming with satisfaction as husbands fingers left a trail of fire in their wake as the ventured up and down her spine.

Chester grabbed her free hand kissing the knuckles as he spoke, the words with the same conviction he had the day he swore them to her. The words held such love behind them Melissa opened her eyes, looking up at him wanting to the see the emotion swimming in his eyes as it had that day.

"Cherished are the memories that, brought us to this day. For yesterday was just a dream, a wish to contemplate, a fantasy where in my mind, a fleeting glimpse I'd see a vision of the true desires, I longed for endlessly. And when I dreamed I did not know, the love I'd feel today; the height of my truest feelings and the depths that they would portray."

The words he had chosen to speak to her that very day had meant so much to her. Theu seemed to bottle up a tiny essence of their love and put it into words.

She sat up slightly, moving so her lips were close to his own. Whispering her set of vows, her lips ghosting over his own while she was unable to remove the smile from her face, "I see in many ways, reflections of my love for you are mirrored in your gaze. And by our presence here today, And for the love we share, I thank you for our yesterdays that brought us to be here. But more than this, I vow to you, my wishes yet to come ... tomorrow's dreams and fantasies, this day that we are one. Tomorrow's an adventure that we'll share together now; Our future's intertwined forever through this holy vow."

She pressed her lips to his in a soft sensuous kiss, that she had hoped would attempt to convey a portion of the love she had for him, she pulled briefly away smiling at him, "I wish we didn't have to go back today...I like our bubble we're in." She said looking down at him her blonde hair almost forming a curtain around them.

Chester watched her face slowly illuminate, but not simply from the sun's warm, glittering embrace yet the illumination he knew as her fantasizing. He knew she wanted children, or as he often teased her--any of her children in her class in the elementary school. He had seen the way she had treated her students, like they were her own. It was one sunny afternoon, on her break that he had come to visit her was going to have a conversation over their wedding details--which all the faculty knew, but he and Melissa preferred to lie to themselves and make believe that there was nothing going on--they had to surprise some didn't they? It was during this conversation, that Melissa had noticed one of her students couldn't get their lunch because they couldn't afford it.

In her words, not his--she was helping procure her student's wellbeing. However, this "procurement" came at the expense of Chester, that although was smiling at how this wonderful woman lying next to him loved her "kids" so dearly that it broke her heart to see just one of them go without. Her conniving ways were underestimated by himself, when she dolled up her eyes at him and with the sweetest tone possible--a touch of her magical fingers and lo' and behold, Chester had performed a magic trick. Incredibly smart guy to incredibly gullible guy. It wasn't so much the money which only amounted to $5.75 or something along those lines, it wasn't the idea of interacting with a kid--it was the act itself that was the awkward part.

She loved every second. From the time he had gotten up to go get in line, to watching him try and figure out what the girl wanted, to buying and delivering it to her. The little girl had thanked him by shouting across the gymnasium which in turn made the awkwardness level that much higher. He gave a slight smile, nodded and said "Yeah, okay then." Which, upon his return he found Melissa a laughing mess and Chester had sat down without a word, tongue in cheek watching her. She had wanted kids before because she was a natural mother. Now, she wanted them because she had an excuse to torture him.

He thought of all this while he quietly listened to her hymn before she sat up. It wasn't much; she then proceeded to move her lips close to his. Almost as if she were daring him to make a move--which he really wanted to until he heard the words...

"I see in many ways, reflections of my love for you are mirrored in your gaze. And by our presence here today, And for the love we share, I thank you for our yesterdays that brought us to be here. But more than this, I vow to you, my wishes yet to come ... tomorrow's dreams and fantasies, this day that we are one. Tomorrow's an adventure that we'll share together now; Our future's intertwined forever through this holy vow."

But alas, she rewarded his affections with an emotionally powerful kiss that packed a punch that could match any author’s portrayal or any devoted thing he could devotedly say or do. In the brevity of the moment, he could swear his breath was catching. That was when, he knew without a doubt that he had the right woman. If every kiss left him breathless--arguing or not. He always was a firm believer that you knew you truly loved someone if you forgave them if they hurt you as long as it wasn't adulterous. She was that girl, she could say things to hurt him just the same as he could hurt her. But at the end of the day, all that mattered was that they were in each other’s arms under God and could say those three words and mean them just as much every time.

In that moment his hand immediately lifted, as if to reach for the moon or the stars or the sun. That's all he saw when he looked her face. Her fair skin, her glittering eyes and her smile. This hand pressed up against her cheek gingerly, dotingly and caressed her cheek before careening to the back of her head, nestling there. It felt so right, this moment of doting kisses exchanged. She drew back slowly, her eyes, her gorgeous sapphires, looked down at him almost forlorn and with regret.

"I wish we didn't have to go back today...I like our bubble we're in." She told him quietly, as if confessing. It was a confession of sorts, he was her confidant. He was her best friend. Her conscious. Her lover--her other half. That's what it meant to him to be her husband.

They both had fallen in love with this poem about love--everlasting. They both used it as their vows with sections for each, and the final stanzas in combined effect. He had started it, she followed and then in a combined effect they had spoken the following together, but it was him saying it solely to her all by himself.

"I promise to remember in the future years and days, the love I feel for you this moment ..." He lifted himself upwards, propping himself up on his right elbow, has left hand still stroking her right cheek; thumb sweeping to and fro just beneath her eye along her delicately placed cheekbone. "... Dreams fulfilled today. For in the coming years as we move on, and reminisce, back to the day I stood with you and promised with a kiss ..." His eyelids lowered almost closing but not fully as he edged himself to her lips in a slow caution granting her a sweet surrender, it wasn't rehearsed and she could tell it. This time he was the one to pull back.

"That blessed are the days that, I have looked into your eyes, and felt the warmth and love reflect, the essence of our lives. Yesterday we dreamed of what might be; today we validate our love; and tomorrow we will cherish the life we have shared as one."

He watched her eyes, the way they sparkled its like they themselves were alive like bursting fireworks; explosions of fiery passion and wonder and beauty. He hoped they would never leave, but at the same time the though of her being a mother was what made him get a really big grin in the silence shared in the aftermath of such words spoken.

"I promise to remember in the future years and days, the love I feel for you this moment ...Dreams fulfilled today. For in the coming years as we move on, and reminisce, back to the day I stood with you and promised with a kiss ..."He spoke softly kissing her lips.

"That blessed are the days that, I have looked into your eyes, and felt the warmth and love reflect, the essence of our lives. Yesterday we dreamed of what might be; today we validate our love; and tomorrow we will cherish the life we have shared as one."

She traced his smiled with her fingers enjoying the feel of his skin underneath her finger tips, she giggled at the goofy smile on his face. His joy nearly seeping into her own being. His smile was one that could light up her entire world, make her laugh and smile herself. She wanted to do everything she could to make him smile so she could feel this way all the time. His smile was like a gift to the world.

Melissa looked at the clock seeing it was almost 1 in the afternoon, rarely could she get her husband to sleep in this late. He was always very responsible with everything and felt that sleeping in was a waste of a perfectly good day. It was nice to abandon their responsibilities for a little while.

One forth of July evening she had to literally drag her new husband out of his office to enjoy the night lights. It was probably one of her favorite fourth of July's she had managed to get her class of children and their family's to all meet at a park for the fireworks.

She looked at her husband as she came out of the memory, "So when we get home am I gonna get to keep you to myself for a little while or is work calling yo-" Melissa was interrupted by the sound of her husbands phone ringing, she looked at him laughing at the conflict on his face. "Go ahead and answer the phone Ches." She said calling him by his old name, Melissa kissing him all too briefly on the lips. "I'm gonna go take a shower...feel free to join after you done."

Getting out of bed she looked at him over her shoulder winking playfully before making her way into the bathroom.

Chester continued smiling, even more so when he felt her lightly, albeit ticklishly tracing the contours of his lips in slow, lingering motions. He could have devised a hundred different measures to tease, to entice her. But he set his own primal nature aside momentarily, if only to thank God for this woman sitting before him and the feel the gentleness permeate beneath the skin and soak into his very soul leaving a fingerprint there. He watched her eyes trail wearily to the clock, with an added expression of doubt.

She knew him much too well sometimes he would think. But then again, he would also think to himself--was that such a bad thing?

"So when we get home am I gonna get to keep you to myself for a little while or is work calling yo-" His celluar phone rang, but his eyes were so captivated, his mind so entranced by her it was a distant background noise he neither wanted to pay attention to, but at the same time, simply had to. His firm worked for the government, he was a vital asset to a team that protected and created vast and superbly complex coding to prevent leakages or breaches of some of the most vital data their governmental and military leaders needed.

"Go ahead and answer the phone Ches." She gave him a reassuring kiss from the embarrassing moment after calling him his old nickname. However, he was honestly a bit unhinged because this was THEIR time. "I'm gonna go take a shower...feel free to join after you done." She told him him, as though hinting with devious inception. The thought of that sinister grin was enough to elevate his blood pressure, and cause his ordinarily high functioning mindset into a faltering, blubbering mess as it surely became as soon as she had stood and proceeded to the shower--naked.

He didn't need imagination, in fact, it was now discarded. The slender, lithe frame of his wife stalking; breasts taut, body shapely with contours and golden blond fountains falling past her shoulders. Yeah, it was hard to "imagine" anything better than what he was seeing now. He waited for her to continue on into the shower room, and the phone to ring twice more before he could draw his attention away from her delectable frame. He slid the phone open and began with the brief conversation.

"Yeah, I'll have it on your desk Monday, gimme a day to get back--got a house that I have to meet with the realtor to sign and begin moving the essentials in--First thing Monday though, I'm all yours." Chester spoke calmly, nonchalantly and with familiarity. His boss was agreeable to this, even though it was a big transaction for them both. After receiving what felt like the billionth congratulations, Chester was all too eager to just hang up the phone. After he did however, that's when the sweet, mature Chester ceased to be and the loving, dominant, and sexually charged Chester came through in an outpouring.

He threw the sheets back and rose slowly, edging his way towards the some what partially closed door. He gripped the old style handle and pulled the door open and there she was. Behind a water coated glass pain, standing all by her lonesome letting the water just pour on to her silhouette and drip right on by. Being naked himself, there was no excuse to take any further time. He entered the shower stall.

Chester moved up from behind Melissa, pressing his chest deliberately and firmly against the small of her back. This action would then have a tantalizing effects of surprise, comfort, and carnal desires. His hands gripped her hips firmly, the lot of them following the natural inward curve of a woman's pelvis while his thumbs pressed along her flanks. His hands weren't calloused from labor, they were warm and they were soft. His lips came to be planted in succession along her shoulders, following even the dip in between them.

His apology, he had hoped, would work.

Melissa stood in the mirror staring at her reflection clad in a towel, a smile playing at her lips. She lightly traced her fingers over her body her mind replaying the lustful caresses against her skin, the tender kisses of her husbands touch. Everytime they shared their love for each other her body felt like she was on some sort of high, one which she would never tire of.

She grabbed her brush running it through her hair humming happy as she tried to remove the knots from her hair as her husband came up behind her again, making her smile. She continued to brush her hair leaning back against his chest.

Reaching her hand back she caressed his cheek softly looking at him, "I love you..." She said putting down her brush as she spoke. "More than anything else in the world." She said smiling softly at him, her eyes a vibrant blue filled with emotion, with love. Melissa stared at him unable to take her eyes off him feeling for some reason that it was important he know today how much she loved him.

She shook her head after a moment chuckling to herself, as she teased him. "Not to mention your pretty hot and good in bed." She said patting and kissing his cheek, laughing at his dumbfounded face as she made her way out the the room. She got on her stomach laying on the bed her head resting in her arms, still only in her towel.

"So what time to we have to meet the realtor sweetheart?" She said almost too sweetly, her eyes filled with humor and playfulness.

Chester slid his up and back down in a slow retreat and advance game. The friction would burn as his hands moved back and forth across her skin, both drying it quicker than the towel simply absorbing and lapping up the water. The moment she leaned, he was like a lion pouncing that was in waiting, finally pouncing. Folding one arm across her chest, his not so muscular arm pinned her towel ( For the most part) against her breasts, and from shoulder to shoulder held her protectively in his arms. His lips on the other hand, traveled the corner of her nape, climbing like each kiss was a rung on a ladder along her neck which he knew was one of her weakest spots. His kisses delivered everything a woman that loved him so could have wished for. Adoration, love, and affection.

He felt her hand move towards him, and he leaned in and kissed her palm before nuzzling into her hand. "I love you..." She would say, putting down the brush. He had a feeling more was coming so he remained calm, quite. His arm pinning now the only garment that barely clothed her. The closeness and scent of her skin was intoxicating. He could try each day to fixate on something else--sure he could sometimes get lost in the coding of a computer--it was no different than reading German or French or Spanish to him. But her skin, her body was different somehow. It drew him like a moth to a flame, and whenever, wherever he could he loved being as God intended them to be in ignorance. Not able to comprehend every flaw and difference--there was none.

Then there was her warmth. Oh God he could not live without it.

But there was that smile of hers again, and once again his mind drifted towards it like it were starved. Her eyes were special, her lips were supple, her body perfect. How little he knew in just a few short hours, it would be ripped from him and his world would be burning down like someone had poured gasoline around this collection of memories and set it ablaze.

It almost felt nostalgic...

"Not to mention your pretty hot and good in bed." Chester heard her say, he gave a half-cocked dumbfounded expression to which she would laugh. Yet, he really was dumbfounded.

Had this all happened before? These aromas, this lighting--her laughing, the heat. His head started to pan from left to right. His eyes looking for something out of place.

"So what time to we have to meet the realtor sweetheart?"

His mind clicked, how would he know what she was going to say? His heart beat elevated quickly, and it suddenly felt very claustrophobic. Suddenly a very real, and a very sharp pain erupted through out him. Blood began drizzling to floor as an open wound began to form right across his forehead. He began looking around bewildered, suddenly feeling disoriented....

Chester awoke to an entirely different arena, like he had skipped the train that had gone off the tracks. His mouth was agape slightly, blood oozing from the transitory reverie. The side of his face was crushed, he couldn't see out of his right eye. He was laying against the car's steering column facing his left. Trying to lift himself produced unimaginable pain, but one though and one though only thought in his mind was--Melissa, is she okay? With a few understandable whimpers of pain that evolved into full blown screams because of an arm that had been broken and three places, a severe concussion and multiple contusions and abrasions and lacerations.

He thrust his trembling frail body back in the seat. His side had suffered the most damage. Blood was every where--namely his.

"Mel...Meliss...Melissa..?" He staggered in his speech. With no response he looked over to see her slouched backwards, hardly a scratch on her but her head was limply resting against the windowsill. His right arms was useless. In his frantic adrenaline rush he tried opening the door on his side that had damn near caved in. Once the lever did not work, he kicked at it hysterically. Exiting the car, he saw the devastation with his one good eye.

Glass was everywhere, as well as two sets of rubber marks. He looked down the street to see a large F-350 pick up truck in a culvert and then looked at his own car. The roof was practically caved in which meant it had rolled several times. Chester hobbled his way around to to Melissa's side of the car and opened the door. Her Body fell side ways limp bu was both restrained by the safety harness and by the miracle of adrenaline rushing through Chester's veins. He pulled her away from the car and laid her down. The first thing He did was fumble through his pockets for his cell phone once he found it he dialed those three crucial numbers--911.

"Yes, this is 911 Emergency Hotline what seems to be the problem?" The operator asked and he set her on speaker phone set the phone one ground and felt for a pulse on Melissa, when she had none he began to spout off facts while performing CPR.

"I've been in a car wreck, I don't have use of my right arm.." He blew into Melissa's lungs panicking. " There were I believe three of us in two cars, a truck and a black sedan..." He pressed his good hand against her chest and pumped several times-harder each time before blowing into her mouth and down her throat. " I have no fucking idea where I am at!"

"Help is on the way sir, stay on the line."

It didn't take long for the stat flights to get there, the roads were blocked off by an army of lights. The found Chester. His body had gone into shock from the trauma, anxiety, and severe concussion. The report said that Melissa had died on impact from the drunk driver. Though Chester's side of the car took the brunt of the force and through Chester himself her neck was snapped from the whiplash. The reason why she hadn't suffered any other injures was because before the impact, Chester had laid his arm across her chest. The deploying air bags crushed his arm. The drunk driver was also killed. In total, Chester broke his forearm in two different places, his bicep in one, had a collapsed lung, all the ribs on his right side were broke, his cheek bone on the right side of his face was crushed. Due to the adrenaline, Chester could not focus on the stress fractures through out his entire right leg from both kicking the door and being pinned under the steering wheel.

The driver who was responsible for this tragedy was dead on impact as well. Despite having a larger vehicle, the careening effect, the lack of a seat belt forced him through the windshield.

Adrianna looked at the little boy with a soft smile, "See, that didn't hurt did it Jacob?" She asked with a smile as the boy shook his head wiping the tears from his green eyes. "Now your friends can sign your cast with pretty pictures She looked back at her nurse who was talking to the boys father out by the nurse station, buying her the crucial time she needed to talk to the boy, "Now, sweetheart I need you to be honest...are you sure nobody hurt you?" She asked already knowing the truth but desperately wanting the boy to admit it himself.

He shook his head, his own voice vibrating with fear, "No...I fell...I promise. I was on my bunk bed and I fell."

Adri sighed smiling sadly at the boy, "Alright...just promise me if you ever don't feel safe or scared at home that you'll call a police man. You know their number right?"

The boy nodded reluctantly, looking at the door for his father. Adri followed his gaze shaking her head as she pulled out her note pad. "Here this is my phone number....if you need anything at call you can call this number and I'll answer." She said folding it up and putting it in his pocket just as the boys eyes darted back up to the door alerting her to the fact that his father was back.

"So Mr. Davison, I got Jacob ready to go...just make sure to keep the cast dry, give him the pain medicine every 6 hours and he should be good to go...he'll need to come back in 3 weeks to get the cast off." She said with a smile as the man grumbled a "Whatever" in reply all but yanking the child off the stretcher and too the door.

"Remember to be careful Jacob." She said with a sigh as the boy disappeared.

Adri looked at her nurse who was just walking in shaking her head. "He still wouldn't tell me...."

"Maybe we're wrong, maybe the child is just very clumsy." She said trying to offer Adrianna some comfort.

Adri shook her head watching as the boys father pulled him down the hall making him stumble after his father. "No...Jacob Davison has been in here 4 times in the last 4 months for different injuries, from concussions to a broken collarbone and now a broken arm. If I could report him without Jacob actually telling me something was going on I would..." She said walking to the nurses station.

Reading over his charts she began to think about the boy in her 2 years of dealing with children at the hospital as a doctor, Jacob was the first she had ever had that she had a strong suspicion that was being abused. Adri had tried to report it the moment she was sure but her head resident had told her the child had to tell her of the abuse before it could be reported, to which she had to hold her retort of how stupid and dangerous that was.

Her concern always was that this visit would be Jacob's last and that she did nothing to help the boy....her heart couldn't take that if that was the case.

Chester fumbled with his keys, shoving them down into one of his side pockets. He opened the door to his psychologist’s office. It had been court mandated after he had an emotional breakdown, was strung out on drugs, alcohol and had struck his then girlfriend. That was all just last year. For three years he had suffered greatly; crippling physical pain, chronic insomnia, high stress and anxiety and the nightmares—let’s not forget those most of all. He had completely shut down, and then he attempted suicide on himself only to have his father-in-law find him soon enough that the massive overdose hadn’t killed him.

Those that looked at him couldn’t see the deformities he could still feel. The surgeon did a complete reconstruction of the side of his face that had smashed against the steel frame of the car door when it caved in on impact. It would look like nothing had happened—unless you knew where to look. He entered the office taking his walking stick with his other hand to help balance himself. He could walk leisurely, but due to the stress fractures that were still healing from that night it wasn’t a very smart thing to exert his self too much.
He stepped casually up to the window kiosk as he had hundred times before, with a smile. It was a façade, a serene rejection of his reality. It was the kind of smile that only the shell of a man could ever truly carry; sad, forlorn but kind. He had made progress since being here, but there were things still lingering. They mostly came in the form of memories that didn’t completely fade memories that were as profoundly powerful as the day that they were made. That being said, the smile was the only thing he felt he had left of her. She loved his smile, adored it and never missed a chance to tell him so. He was a wounded soldier and that smile was his crutch.

“Hello Mr. Benett.” The girl in scrubs broke the silence in the room, as well as his thoughts, forcing Chester to look upon her face. She had a generous smile, a beautifully youthful smile.

“Hey Kim, is Dr. Garcia in?” He asked calmly with his smile persisting. Kim was a lovely assistant; chestnut brown hair that shimmered, emerald green eyes thrusting up at him. He had a feeling that she fawned over him often, being only 18 it wasn’t entirely out of the question. Still, there was an invisible boundary between patients and physicians just the same as dating a co-worker. It was generally frowned upon. But, more than the simple social scorn, he simply didn’t want to spoil that sweet disposition.

“Yes, I believe she is—I’ll go tell her right away.” She replied getting up from her desk and walking out of sight as she slipped from the cramped quarters of her office. Chester sighed, running a hand through his hair which was much shorter now than it had been in years passed. It was a sort of plea, an outcry, and an attempt at an escape from having to look at the same battered and bruised and disfigured man over and over in the mirror. Finally, he took the shears and buzz cut his head until he was bald with only barely a centimeter of hair to remain. He bawled when he did it, he felt her frowning behind his eyelids but he continued through.
Ever since, it’s been short. Not buzzed. He had curly hair still; he just didn’t let it grow past a certain point.

“Mr. Benett, she says to go on in.” The nurse smiled at him as he simply waved and stepped up to the door and twisted the knob and entered the maze like corridor. He sauntered down one hall and turned onto another. He stopped at an old, cherry red stained wooden door with a deliberately tarnished, faded brass hand. Gripping it he twisted it and pushed it open gently and without incident.

The room inside was spacious; books and book shelves lined the walls to his left and right. The many tomes were mindboggling in number. Before him, was a very large, very old desk lacquered and was a dark mahogany. Behind it, was a brilliant mind in her own right. A sophisticated mind. A beautiful mind. She was a middle aged woman—mid to late thirties possibly early forties. Greying blond hair that fell along her shoulders and glasses dressed her cornflower blue eyes. Aged eyes that were always delving deeper behind an issue.

Chester quietly closed the door behind him and sauntered towards the desk. She had a in her hand and was writing some vernacular as fluidly as an artist with a brush before he approached the desk completely, she collected her papers, stacked them meticulously and set them aside before she too stood and greeted him.
“Hello, Doctor Garcia.” Chester greeted her with respect that she deserved, that she had earned.

“Hello Chester, how have you been since your last misdemeanor?” She inquired, that was the way she was. Upfront. No bullshit. No tit to suckle from to enable or give him reason to enable or accept his behavior was acceptable. That was not to say she was without sympathy.

Chester’s hand lent itself out in acquaintance and she took it readily. Both held smiles, but while they were both guarded—hers was the honest one. Once shook, Chester stepped back and Dr.Garcia sat down in her chair.

Chester couldn’t tell rather or not if it was his surroundings; the multitude of books, fresh potted vegetation, the earthly woodsy flair—or if it was in fact Dr. Garcia that allowed him to say what he needed to, what was truly running through his mind. With the simultaneous snap of his fingers and a ‘spring’ to his step as he moved forwards; take not, this was not said with cheerfulness and a smile.

“I found myself drinking again last night….”He sighed but continued. “I drank and I drank—I drank I could swear to you that there was a hole in that glass bottle.” He admitted, frowning slightly. Dr. Garcia’s upper lip pressed down while her lower lip pursed up as if to say ‘Not bad, not good, but not as bad as it could have been.’
“Chester, we’ll find the hole you think is there—but first I would like to talk about the reason behind the drinking. What set you off?” Garcia inquired.

Chester grabbed one of the chairs and sat down, disappointed. Poignant was the memory, it made him wince as he spoke each syllable. “I quit my job…I quit my job and I’m moving out of that house.” Red flags were dotting each word he had spoken in Garcia’s mind. But even if she told him he was simply running away, it wouldn’t help.
“Hear those hounds barking—nipping at your heels?” She questioned her patient’s mind, knowing that somewhere subconsciously—he knew that he was running away. “Chester, what caused the drinking?” She asked him again.

Chester swallowed hard; you could visibly see him straining to keep the swelling of emotion back. His pupil’s slight dilation, the raise in his heart beat which in turn caused his hypertension as he was forced to revert to the memory of his post-traumatic stress. His face began to swell with color, becoming somewhat flushed as his eyes became tense trying to hold back the deluge of tears.

“Every-time I wake up I expect a loud crash or breathing…but there’s nothing…nothing but silence.” Chester choked, his eyes breaking letting a few loose tears slip past and roll down his cheek. “I always, always check to see if she’s there. There’s nothing. So I close my eyes and let it hurt, and then that voice inside it asks me—Are you reminded of all you used to be?”

Adri stood up stretching after finishing her paper work for Jacob, she looked at the clock seeing it was around two o'clock. Stretching her back in a nearly graceful arch, she stood up just as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She sighed pulling it out, shaking her head to herself as she read and saw who it was.

Can you please bring me my lunch? D: I don't want to lose all my break by walking to the restaurant ~Kimberly

She shook her head, although her younger cousin only worked 3 minutes away from the hospital she constantly called in for favors often playing on her cousins all too caring nature. This could even be seen in their younger years from the times Kimberly had dropped her ice cream cone and Adrianna had given her own to Kim.

One could say that Kimberly walked over her cousin, abused her kindness to which they would be right. But that was Adrianna's fatal flaw. She was nice, caring, and sweet to a fault. Rarely would the girl get angry for a fault which was done to her. Now faults done to other innocent people especially those who couldn't protect themselves, like Jacob Davison, those were the ones which would set fire to her embers.

I guess I could do that. I'll be there in 10. Adri wrote in reply rolling her eye at her own pathetic ability to say no. She took off her lab coat setting it on the chair, "I am going for lunch now..." She said softly, "You guys want anything?"

The women at the nurse station said no, either not hungry or engrossed in their own activities to care. Having finished with all her patients that were in for now Adri definitely had some free time. She took her time enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin as she made the short journey to the Deli which was close to the hospital.

It was a small shop that she had found with her father one day when she was very young. Her father had always worried about the fact that Adri may resent him for the fact that he worked a lot so always made sure the two of them bonded over scheduled father daughter day. As nice as the gesture was and Adrianna appreciated it, she still found it to be a bother. She like may others that were of her age at the time would have rather spent their time with friends of their own age.

That wasn't to say Adri didn't love or appreciate her parents because she did, but often found that because of the circumstance of her extreme intellect her parents always worried excessively about her feeling needed, and appreciated often suffocating her.

Adrianna was brought out of her thoughts by a man asking how he could help her, she shook her head realizing she was already at the deli. "Ahhh, yes. I am here to pick up for Kimberly...she said she already orders." She said shooting him a friendly smile. The man was young seemed to be around her age but must have been a new employee because she had never seen him before.

He cleared his throat, "Oh yeah..." He said smiling at her, "Let me get that for you." He said with a flirtatious wink before he went to grab the order. Adri shook her head, as flattered as she was Adrianna wasn't one to fall over the guys who tried to hard. She wanted someone who knew went to act mature, suave, gentlemanly and when to let loose and have fun. There was a time and place for everything and she needed someone who understood that.

The guy came back smiling as displayed his success with the objective she had given him. "I got it right here...Kimberly..paid in full." He said handing it to her.

"Thanks..." She said in reply, smiling as she put a generous tip in the jar, then walking out hopefully before he could attempt to impress her any further and ask her out. Then she'd have to think of a way to let him down gently.

Making her way down the street towards her cousins job her mind went back to its earlier wondering. She went through these moments where her mind would go on autopilot analyzing and philosophizing everything that had happened in her life. From childhood until her current point or maybe even future points of her life.

The end results of all these random brainstorms always led her to one conclusion which was that fate, god, something bigger than her was leading her to something, someone...a destination and Adri was going to continue life to the fullest until she got there.

Adrianna opened the door to the building which held, the office of Jessica Garica PhD. of Psychiatry the doctor Kimberly worked for. Walking into the cream color office Adri walked up to the window kiosk setting the brown bag on the counter top. "Your lucky I love you, Kimberly." She said with a smile as her younger cousin jumped slightly looking up from the appointment book.

"You scared me Adri. I keep telling you your gonna kill me one day...seriously." She said making Adri roll her eyes at her cousins youthful dramatics. "Thanks...I really didn't want to have to waste my time walking over there to the deli." Kim said grabbing the bag.

Adri scoffed looking at her, "But I did? You know this is one of the few breaks I get in my call shift..."

"I know...that's why I asked you." She said trying to charm her way out of it with a smile. This was her cousin, the girl who was more like a sibling to her than extended family. One of the only people other than her parents who could ask for almost anything and get it.

Adri leaned against the window resting her head in her arms. "So...how's it been today? Totally boring?" She said imitating her with a laugh and a smile.

Her cousin frowned at her, "Don't make fun of me, Adrianna." She said with a childish pout, "It has, I've had one guy come in...who is complete eye candy might I add. But if it wasn't for him today would be a complete boring waste." She said eating her chicken salad. "Hopefully things get better though...."

Adri nodded looking at her, "Hopefully."

Immediately, Garcia got up from her chair and sat herself down in front of him placing her hands on his hands. She looked up at him directly. Her shoulders squared away. She was confident in whatever she was about to say.

“Chester, Chester look at me.” She tapped his cheek breaking his concentration on the floor. His eyes rolled to her face. “Chester, do you remember our first meeting? In the rehab center after they released you from the intensive care ward?” She questioned him, and he nodded silently. “I came in the room, and even before I spoke you told me a part of a poem you were writing at the time. You said. ‘Love and anger in just one touch—why does it hurt to feel so much’ and you didn’t talk to me much after that, that day. But I walked away thinking ‘wow, whatever that man had—was something few get to have, or even get to see let alone feel. I think I have an answer to your riddle, yet I wonder: what do you think you meant by that?" She sat there patiently for him, knelt before him like he was Christ and she Mary Magdalene. His eyes stared into hers.

"Now that I've had time to reflect over these years--I believe, that without a doubt I was mad at her for leaving, mad at myself for letting her leave, and God for taking her. As irrational as that might seem. When someone dies you have no choice, but a part of me will always teeter-totter on the what if I had stayed in that resort another day like she had wanted. When I woke up and I realized she was gone and I had nothing but my thoughts because I couldn't actually move my epiphany was--She took my heart, I she took my soul. Because what was here in this heart left to follow? What was here in this soul left to save?" That was it. Chester suddenly felt a weight lifted straight off his chest. Even as his eyes winced, his breathing changed, relaxing from hypertension. “I believe wholeheartedly in the concept of love, and I didn't see it then--hell I didn't see it with those poor girls that drug down into my realm of madness and despair. There would never be another Melissa." His eyes told it all, he was living with regret, a lot of it. But it displaced itself, dislodged itself from one thing to another. Like a piece of shrapnel, it 'bounced' around inside of him causing hemorrhaging of a different kind. Rather than blood, it was memories escaping his veins.

Both his arms brandished very noticeable incisions, though long healed they remarked a time when his despondency and rage had the better of his intellect. The scars were both about three to four inches long and riven down the lengths of his forearms, rather than across his wrists. There was a wise saying when committing suicide by bloodletting: It’s down the street, not across the tracks. This saying was true for most, as it would cause the most severe bleeding, cutting the tendons. A sudden catastrophic event like a wife dying could leave a man destroyed and left for dead or wanting to be that way in very least.

"Chester, I would like to talk about your girlfriends, after the incident. Can you briefly tell me about each of them, and what happened?" Jessica asked him, treading softly because these were dangerous waters to yet thoroughly explore. Chester nodded. "Yes..." He said softly, recognizing the path to wanting to be whole again was fraught with pain; merciless and relentless. Jessica nodded agreeably, visibly seeing how much Chester wanted to change but how much mental and emotional carnage he had been through and then tried to force himself to somehow feel for these girls in way that was reminiscent of his late wife. Yet, she also saw a truth in his eyes, a truth that he had indeed come to discover on his own: That no one could replace her, even if he wanted them to.

"Okay, let's start with the first girl: Brooklyn Everdeen." She called out the name from memory. Jessica was startled when Chester stood up, being full aware that she had practically made herself very vulnerable to a potential violent outbreak. But there was no reaction; no screaming, no chair being thrown. Instead, he carefully guided himself and sat beside her, as though they were sitting on the bank of a river.

"Brooke was a sweet gal," He said calmly, with bit of remorse as he nodded. "Was a real 'spunky' and upbeat type of person? Always seeming excited, when really--that made me nervous as hell given my wife had died just a year before. I met her in late May at a party; I was in the corner and at a table by self. I was drinking, of course--drinking with meds doesn't usually pan out the way you might expect. By the end of the relationship, my drinking was the cause of our failure--or MY failure I should say...."

~Transition to flash back~

"Chester...I mean are you sure you want to go out...we don't have to go just because I wanted to." Brooke said placing her hand on his thigh, feeling that was her right as his girlfriend not knowing of the internal battle that was striking him.

Brooke had been seeing Chester for about 3 weeks and felt the restraint in his emotions with her...with himself even. How he there was something that was always holding him back. She was determined to find out what was and free him from it.

She sighed looked out the window of the moving car, "I was just saying that because you always seemed so tense that maybe we should go have some fun." Brooke said with a smile. "I don't like seeing people like this...I mean sometime you just seem to be going through the motions of life." She said as they pulled into the lot of the bar.

Brooke looked at him as he put the car in park, turning his head towards her gently with her hand. "Look, I care about you a lot Chester despite the fact that we just met... Please just try to have fun for me." She said giving him a sweet smile. "I love seeing your smile...I just wish you showed it off more."

"Chester...I mean are you sure you want to go out...we don't have to go just because I wanted to."

I had remained quiet, and unsure but calm. Lately I had been feeling honestly agitated. The parties, they never seemed to stop--maybe that was just me. On the outside the mask it was working so perfectly that she was never aware of what my thoughts were. Maybe that disturbed her the most. That I never once looked at her and simply said "I can't do this anymore." But then I thought: Maybe it was better than that way. "Maybe, if I played this masquerade, I could learn to love her the way I did Melissa, maybe the pain would stop for one fucking moment and I could have some peace and quiet in my head and I could feel that way again. By this point we had been dating for around 3 weeks.

Brooke placed her hand Chester's thigh, the obvious look of discontent of frustration on his tired expression. It was there from the beginning. Yet, he nevertheless, had given her chance. She was, however, very spirited and dedicated towards loosening him up. She was prying and he could feel it in her simple questions. That subtle subterfuge that could, in her best hopes, undermined his guarded station.

I could tell it was already beginning to fracture the relationship--my reluctance to come forward as I should have done but didn't. Her nature while sweet and perhaps forgiving wasn't enough for me... I couldn't tell you what it was that I was feeling then. Shame? Confused, worried that I had just tried to discard my wife's memory too soon. But who the hell knows just when you really 'get over' anyone. It could be days, months--years. I couldn't take it. So I did what I did best then. I lied.

"I was just saying that because you always seemed so tense that maybe we should go have some fun." She started to explain her reasons, reasons which Chester already knew. There was a sound of despondency in her voice, something that made her seem...less. As the pulled up to the bar, pulling the shifter into park. "I don't like seeing people like this...I mean sometime you just seem to be going through the motions of life." Chester turned to look at Brooke, her hair wasn't nearly as curly as his even as short as it was after it hall been shaved off for his intense surgeries and placing a metal plate in his head. He gazed at Brooke. His blue eyes had grey 'clouds' in them; regions where the grey and the blue blended splendidly. "Brooke, I'm...I'm going to be okay. If I need you to do something--I will tell you, okay sweetie?" He gave her a very, very good reassuring smile-- it was a lie but she wouldn't know better.

But just before they stepped out of the car Brooke took his hand in hers--the comparison was unsurprising, his was much larger than hers. "Look, I care about you a lot Chester despite the fact that we just met... Please just try to have fun for me." Her face lit up like a warm fire growing feverishly. "I love seeing your smile...I just wish you showed it off more." Chester nodded and kept on smiling, betraying her confidence with his falsified assurance. He even went so far as to lean over to her slowly and softly, to seal the deal, produced a venomous kiss.

I knew, I knew that she adored my kisses. That she would take it not just for face value. My kisses meant something to her. But my mind, my conscious drew from the most unlikely reference it could in that moment. Judas. Judas in the Bible had betrayed Christ with a kiss. But I had to make sure. As the night wore on and the festivities were rambunctious and boisterous I was getting Brooke a simple cocktail. But to the sweet fruity drink I added something else. I broke one of my anti-anxiety pills into her drink and made sure it was well blended before serving her. I knew it wouldn't kill her, but it would do was make her giddy and calm her down. She would become more...approachable with what I wanted to suggest to her. After she had a time to sit with the effects she told me she was ready to go. So I walked her to the truck. It was early morning and we got home and I carried her up stairs. Even though we had stayed with each other, I was desperate to find out the only way I felt I could be close to her in the only way I knew how left--I was about to manipulate her into having sex. It would be our first night together in intimacy.

Chester set Brooklyn down on the balls of her feet after carrying her bride style up his stairs. He watched her stability before sighing and taking his shirt revealing a multitude of scars on his shoulder following all the way down his right side and beneath the belt line. But this didn't seem to affect him as badly as it may have looked or at least he wouldn't let it. He returned to Brooklyn, slowly slipping his hands against her hips in a truly sensuous manner, even lifting her shirt a bit with the motion before his hands locked her down into place. The carpet beneath their feet very soft, velvety even. But there was a bed in waiting.

"Brooklyn..." He began, looking down her front slowly before he glanced back into her eyes squarely. “There’s something I need to find out...I want to be closer to you than we have been..." Chester’s breathing; calming and deep, probably feeling very warm against her skin as he rested his forehead against hers. He initiated with a soft, slow kiss; lips blending, grasping at one another. His spelled wantonness it didn't come immediately however, only after repeated lean in's and retreats in playfulness did he finally make contact.

Brooke smiled at the feel of his lips against hers, her mind feeling fuzzy but not muddled or unclear. She thought it was because of the cocktail she had with a lack of food in her stomach before hand. Not knowing that the person she trusted had abused her belief in him. Brooke was almost what one would call naive and not in the fact of her knowledge but her ability to automatically believe everyone had a good intention in there actions.

Wrapper her arms around his neck she gave him a sultry smile as a giggle left her lips, "Alright...I actually want to be close too you too." She said slowly, pushing him back until the bed was underneath his back.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Brooke wondered why her one cocktail had effected her so strongly, had made her feel so giddy, relaxed and open at the same time. It was as if her body was going on instinctual reaction and just taking what it wanted without consulting her conscious. Right now she just wanted whatever Chester wanted...or at least that was what she thought

Brooklynn smiled stalking over the him, momentarily enjoying the feel of the plush carpet under her feet then slowly crawling over him. Her hips straddling his as she leaned over kissing his neck, nipping the skin lightly. She ran her hands under his shirt after untucking it from his pants, " I want you too do your worst...." She said teasing his lips with her own.

I truly thought in that moment: Am I going to be the worst person in the world? Is this what it will take to find what I feel I have lost? I didn't like it. And I kept thinking: How could this make me happy? A life full of compromises? There was no compromise when I was with Melissa, never. There was agreements. We had our trying times but, she and I, we blended like the clouds and the sky. Like sand and the ocean. We were essential to one another and as Brooklyn crawled over top of me--that look in her eyes, that drunken drugged appearance--The thought was too much to conceive.

Chester lay back on the cottony sheets, plush and smooth creating and indentation of himself as he witness his reckless error saunter towards him. Her eyes, looking not her own; lackluster and void of her true 'spirit'. It was too late now, he had set this in motion. And as she slowly bent her knees, her tight denim pants pressing down against the bed--slowly she would crawl towards him, over him, above him. All Chester could hear, was not the thrashing of a love-wild mustangs heart, but that of a cowards before the count down to the end of his days.

What had he done?

Brooklyn straddled his hips, gripping and grabbing at his tucked shirt so intoxicated with the idea of sex. Chester's heart continued to beat ever louder, warning him. Telling him, this wasn't the way. That if he went down this path, the memory of will be stained and this girl--this wonderful, beautiful girl before him will be cheapened as a result; not from love, or even lust--just simple arrogance. He was abashed at his actions, destroyed by the idea that he would tread this far. He swallowed, holding back the rush of raw emotion as the memories came flooding back in like a waterfall.

" I want you too do your worst...."

She whispered to him, kissing him slowly. He felt her hands sink to unbutton his jeans and his own hands intervened. It was in that solitary moment, that he began to feel himself really slip from memory. There was a part of him gone and need to be filled. Not replaced, never replaced but filled. Chester took a deep breath before rolling over, taking her with him until he was on top. He released his breath slowly against the creme color of her flesh of her throat. Its warmth could be reminisced or likened to that of when the sun's brilliant light first shatters the illusion of nightfall, when it's face pours out onto rolling hills. Warmth, draping along her clavicle. The tip of Chester's nose drifting along the crook of her neck, as his lips moist and equally warm fled down the side of her neck.

Each kiss comparable to warm, summers rain drop. The kinds that aren't at all cold, and disconcerting but rather, wet and embracing. Chester's heart throbbed. Pleading him not to go any further. Go further he did. He pulled her up gently and tugged her blouse over her head, pulling the soft fabric past her nose, her gorgeous colored eyes and simply let it clutter to the ground. His finger tips, with light ease, trailed thee path between her breasts in a very slow manner--her bra still tucked around her. He leaned down, planting a solid kiss--not a frivolous playful one, a solid kiss to the left breast where her heart should be. In that moment, a tear blended with the moisture of his lips. He could taste the saltiness of his own tears--how bitter they were and she was none the wiser.

"No," Chestered whispered to her in the dark of the room. " I'll do my best." His voice, his words rang out like a gunshot but they would barely be audible between them. It was a covenant. A solemn binding agreement that, even though what he was about to do was ethically wrong, perhaps morally--he would care fr her tenderly and not make it seem quite like just a notch in someone's scoreboard. Whenever he would tell this story to the love of life--wherever she was, whenever she met her--He'd be sure to cry.

Whenever I think about it, I can't say 'well, I'm just a man' No. Men don't do that. I can't say 'well, I was weak.' Then I stop to think, why was I still walking after the accident? Why was I left behind? But I couldn't say I was stronger then than when the wreck had happened either. I think I did it because, I felt wronged. I felt I had been robbed and I wanted someone to feel the grievance. I wanted somebody down there with me, in the grime that was able to compare with me so I didn't feel so alone anymore.

Slipping a hand beneath Brooklyn, his fingers with an amazing amount of nimbleness--unlatched her bra, loosening the lace material. Peeling the straps free of her arms, her chest now lie bare before him. Rosey buds, and and creamy silken skin that raised to touch his smooth bronzed face. His lips widened as he kissed a pathway of molten proportions down the space between her breasts, the nerves reacting in response and it could be felt by gooseflesh as he kissed up one mound slowly, taking his time before he reached the peak. His right hand tightened on the front of her pants, where the zipper and button coexisted; nails biting into her denim while his left hand kept up his weight. He let his tongue set fire to the gasoline that was the vague trail of moisture left behind when he struck her tender, sensitive skin with his tongue. His right hand seeming urgent in its own response as it clutched that wrapped around her waist ever more tightly.

Brooke released a wanton moan from her throat her breath come out rapidly at the feelings rushing her body, with his sensual touch. She stroked the tiny hairs as the nape of his neck as she pulled as his shirt desperate for skin on skin contact. She could feel the buttons popping against her skin as the flew off the shirt leaving the smallest tingling sensation in there wake.

She pulled his shirt off with Chester's assistance before lightly scratching her nails down his back. She arched her back at the feel of his hands squeezing her hips. Her hips instinctively grinding up trying to meet his own body. It was as if her body were not under her own control, not caring for what was proper or something she would normally do.

Grasping for him almost with a kind of desperation, she attempted to pull his face back up to her own. "Please..." She moaned her back arching again in an almost graceful manner. The feel of his tongue going down her body left a trail of fire, burning desire in its wake and Brooke was enjoying every last moment.

She reached down with her hand trying enjoy the feel of his defined body, hoping to eventually reach the play the V on his hip lead to, shivering as her sensitive skin was attacked by his lips once again.

You know I used to think it so funny. That falling in love with someone was easy. It wasn't and it isn't. There's so much that's got to be there, most of it isn't about looks not outwardly anyways. I think about the times I was with Mel. How I would just watch her, watch her like someone watches a sunset or a sun rise. It was always very flattering for her, she was always so humble--she'd turn a pink color and I'd just smile. Love is terribly complicated. Its easy, but its not. You just can't make it work, no matter how much you want it to...

His hair, like a thick tangle of willow branches; curly and soft. His hair was a forest of silk. Chester could feel her roaming hands dancing, striding through each weave and lock. He could feel her warm fingers scouring in wanton need, a need he could feel growing by the time her nails were tightly woven in the fabric of his shirt. Not waiting for compliance, not tendering a moments hesitation to slowly unbutton each button, but rather, an explosion of buttons as she ripped his shirt open in eagerness. The bareness of the air felt against his radiant skin. His body burned like the sun, exuding warmth and deliverance. Yet, also mustering a natural headiness, a carnal callback to their prehistoric ancestry.

"Please..."

Her nails found their marks in his back; solitary streaks of red, as passions stirred dramatically changed the depth of her need. As Brooke arched her spine just so, her hips reflexively coiled around his waist, and gave him a firm squeeze. She was beckoning him. But was it really her? Chester's head was cloudy, hazy like a thick fog had rolled in. She clutched his face and rose it to her own, her hands cradling the frames of it as she moaned in quiet pleasure of all that he had done to her. She was enjoying it, so why stop now? His hands had no will of their own, they loosened the noose from around the simple brass button--suddenly their was slack around her slim, trimmed waistline.

It was a new frontier, and he looked up into her quietly burning eyes, and saw in them, the need for him to explore further, as far as he could as much as he could. His fingers drew the zipper down slowly, each notch releasing her from the bondage of her clothing and revealing her intimate apparel on the other side. Chester scooted back, and in a very dominant very erotic moment, peeled her pants down her thighs with the help of his ivory whites. She would most definitely be able to feel him skimming her bare thighs with his teeth. Once removed, only her underwear remained but, he kept it in place. Instead, he stood upright and placed Brooke's hands, guided them to the front of own denim jeans, the region where he had earlier displaced them from, he now granted freedom to pursue.

In that moment, I was thinking to myself--Maybe someday I'll be forgiven, someday I'll be redeemed...but it was not today.

Sighing at the feeling of his fingers lightly brushed her skin as they reached into the waistband her jeans. Then she felt his teeth slowly scraping against her making her take in a sudden intake of breath as the sensation hit her. Looking at him with hooded eyes as he pulled her pants off without hesitation, which which was a pleasing contrast to his previous tender touches and caresses.

As he gently grasped her hands guiding them towards the front of his jeans she shot him a wicked smile, almost sly in a way as she sat up guiding his face to hers as she momentarily planted a kiss on his lips only to precede down his neck and go down his body. Her hands tracing over every area her lips had once touched caressing the warmth his body was emitting.

Slowly she made her way to waist band placing a last lingering kiss right above the button to his jeans .

Trying to tease him she slowly unbuttoned and pulled down the zipper to his jeans, tracing the slight V that had revealed itself after being released from the confine of his jeans, peaking out on his hips at the edge of his boxers. Brooke slowly pulled down his pants trying to keep up with her teasing pace.

When she reached the muscles of his defined calves she frowned slightly feeling the tenseness in them. She looked up giving him a lazy yet seductive smile. "Loosen up...nobody likes a stick in the mud" She said running her hands up his chest. Not knowing she had given him a piece of advice his wife had constantly given him when they were young.

Chester felt every one of Brooke's heated kisses. Like comets striking, they permeated the skin, delving into the skin to get to the nerves. It had an impact on him; his respiratory system was heightened, his heart pounded with abnormal force and rapidity circulating vast quanities of blood through out his body making him begin to have the makings of perspiration and a flushed look in patches of his skin. Her smile, wicked and conniving drove the animal part of his brain--what most women would refer to as simply a man being a man. His intellect, although profound found itself useless in this seizure of power. A more dominant side of him was awakening, a more sexually explicit side and the adrenaline that came with was staggering.

Her hands were at his hips, the arches from a severe amount of bodily physical training--most more than most men could endure after such injuries like those that he had sustained that night, he had dedicated himself to being able to walk again and that meant he strengthened his whole core, developing corded muscle that hid a quiet strength. As she rolled his pants down his pants from his hips, his trousers could not hid the prominent shape that was pressing outwardly with high expectation. It's shape quite obvious in nature, lustfully directed at her as she pushed them down his tense calves.

"Loosen up...nobody likes a stick in the mud" The words struck him like a car hitting a telephone pole. But now, it was too late to not commit. So rather than wince and shut down he did the unthinkable--he proceeded. He let his legs relax, the muscle becoming not quite as hard as before while other parts stiffened in resolve. Once she had pulled the fabric free of him, Chester now leaned over Brooke assertively. His eyes swimming in passion's play, his shoulders flexing and if her hands has retreated there after he had suddenly pinned her--then she would surely swear he was a panther prowling; muscles rippling, causing what seemed like fleshy tides rather than a smooth backside.

One of his hands, while she was not looking had slipped between her warm thighs. The pads of his fingers pressing slowly yet firmly to the front of her panties. His experience kicked into to overdrive and he knew exactly where that bundle of nerves was exactly. So like any predator stalking, he edged her underwear away, and slid his fingers amongst the slipper searing hot folds of skin. She was so excited; molten core dripping with anticipation yet he did not penetrate her just yet. He slid up several degrees, and found the region, that bulb shaped organ that was like an alarm in her brain because it sent shock-waves through her like her nerves were short circuiting all over from the amount of ecstasy she was taking in from his very slow and deliberate movements.

Brooke smiled coyly seeing the fabric of his boxers straining against him, just as he leaned over her. An almost feral look in his eyes that made her body shiver with anticipation. Unable to take her eyes off his own Blue Grey ones.

She gasped suddenly, surprised at the feel of his hand in between her thighs at the front of her lace boyshorts. She tried to remove her eyes from his to see what he was doing with her own eyes but found herself unable to look away from him. Feeling the cool air against her core she bit her bottom lip.

Instead of being shy of her folds nearly dripping with wanton desire she lifted her hips to meet his touch. As he slid his hand up hitting her bundle of nerves her body nearly vibrated from the shock of pleasure that ran through her body. It went through her like a wave that took over her whole body.

She wrapped her hands around him, as if trying to anchor herself to him as her breathing hitched. She slowly ran her hands down his stomach almost desperate in her touches. Her slow and deliberate touches driving her lust wild.

Slowly teasing her fingers along the edge of his waist band she deliberately brushed the sensitive skin on his second head with her finger tips. Her touch light and feminine yet, seducing and with purpose. Leaning up in his ear she whispered, "Please stop teasing me Chester...I'm not very patient." She said a smile able to be heard in her voice, her fingers brushing the skin again for emphasis.

Her voice in her rising her hips was a very pleasing one to feel. It stiffened him, and it absolved him. With his strong hands, he anchored her back to the bed somewhat roughly but it was a ruse--he was being dominant. He felt her fingers with some amount of fumbling, peel back his trousers and slid against the tip of his cock. The soft flow of her fingers over him harnessed his attention. He was not a vocal man, he did not groan. But that did not mean he did not like it. She had other identifiers, other red flags so to speak, to alert her to his tastes.

For instance, looking at him now his cloudy blues would appear to almost swirl. But they weren't, it was simply his eyes displaying his gratification. He would, however, profess his relishing of his contentedness and delight by only furthering his advances. His breath becoming 'hitched' pausing in the back of his throat like hissing sound yet the produced sensation of the air released from his lips was like searing flames that melted her skin as it blew on past the small dip at the base of her throat and in-between her collarbones. She would then feel his teeth, in frenzy, settle against the crook of her neck, the back of it--against the vein that throbbed wildly along the side of her throat.

How he loved to bite.

While his teeth made harmless indentations of themselves, the nerves would react accordingly; hair-raising, gooseflesh and and accentuated by the swelling of warmth and blood to the area producing a vividly multicolored bruise. His hand had rocked and gyrated, grinding against her folds making her anxious and antsy-ardent. his fingers peeled her lace boyshorts down her slim and fit lit thighs, to her knees and to her feet. Tugging his own loose boxers down he threw them with the rest of the clutter on the floor. Sliding his hands up the outsides of her thighs, embracing her hips as she could feel the tip of his hard shaft pressing, simply pressing against her wet veil.

Chester leaned up, and kissed her as he settled his weight down upon her slowly, but not all the way--he was still pushed up by his bent elbows. His lips would blend seamlessly with hers; tongue caressing her lips softly until they parted and she could taste the cinnamon of his tongue. It was when she was the most drunk on the venom of the kiss he had given her that he would gradually push inside. He penetrated her barrier by retracting slowly and thrusting forwards swiftly. His entire length was now being squeezed him, pressed on him and in return, every nerve amongst them were highly receptive to the pleasurable sensation that was occurring--he hadn't stopped. His hips still lurched forwards in repetitive motions; grinding himself against her tight walls.

Somewhere, inside the back of his mind, unaware, he had pulled the trigger to his own self destruction.

Brooke moaned at the feel of his teeth on her, nipping at the the pulsating vain in her neck. She was not one for pain, but the anxiety pill combined with her raging desire, left her helpless to the pleasure that pain could bring. Feeling his hands moving along her driving her into lust she grinded her hips in rhythm with his hand.

She nearly shivered with anticipation as he pulled off her boy shorts quickly followed by his boxers. The need nearly becoming too great as she felt his tip at her entrance, she nearly shoved him down ready to mount him herself. That was until his lips took the forefront of her attention.

His lips moved perfectly with hers, as if he knew exactly what would send her mind into a incoherant frenzy. She wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to tell him with her body to continue. So wrapped up in the way his lips continued to please her she nearly forgot about her core's burning desire until she felt the wave of pleasure as he thrust into her quickly.

Unable to keep the gasp and moan from her mouth she tried to met the tempo his hips, determined to gather every ounce of pleasure he was giving her. Her hands found solace on his back, nails scraping has he hit the nerves on her inner walls. "Faster..." Brooke moaned desperately.

She closed her eyes bitting her bottom lip never drawing blood as she let the feeling take over her as she thought nothing could beat the feeling he was giving her, that nothing could take this high away from her. Except him...but she trusted him not too, he needed is as much as she did. This night would lead Brooke to rarely give others the very thing she had so easily given to Chester. Her trust.

It was a mindless intoxication; stress just disappeared from the equation seemingly altogether as well as the frustration. Her groans were inebriating, seeping into his ears like the burning of alcohol down his throat, yet it fizzed and foamed like suds as though it were a drug when it interacted with the complacency of his heavily burdened heart and highly fractured mind.

He took in her trust with a certain degree of emptiness--almost anonymous-- even if it wasn't felt right away. He was fucking her brains out, but he didn't love her. How had things become so goddamn complicated?

Still, it felt so good. She felt good. Her body was squeezing him in a way that he couldn't quite clearly describe. All that brilliance was subdued by gratification.

He looped an arm under and around her thigh, bringing her leg against his chest which, surprisingly after being so ruthlessly damaged, was incredibly fit. It may not have had a washboard effect, by the taut firmness of it was nonetheless felt when the back of her thigh met, and bent over one of his broad shoulders.

It was as though her 'command' had released him from the subconscious guilt, and he now paced himself much, much faster. He was now leaned over, hand clutching the head board, her leg bent up to her chest so as to get him angle to thrust increasingly deep, and ever faster.

Her walls 'slick' allowing for a more gliding motion rather than a friction-filled, forceful thrust.