Fanfic: Sex With The Ex
Title: Sex With The Ex
Pairing: Sharon/Husband, also Sharon/Andy pre-ship
Rating: M / 18+
Synopsis: A phone call, that's how it usually starts. She looks at the screen and licks her lips before sliding her finger over the screen in order to take the call. His name rolls sensually on her tongue, and she knows that he is expecting her.
Warning: This story contains some kink (biting during sex) and mild descriptions of consensual rough sex.
A/N: I stareted writing this fic before the name of Sharon's husband was announced and I didn't want to change it, so bear that in mind.
In addition, I have been trying to write this fic in a different style than I usually do. I'd appreciate if you can share your opinions and criticism on it. Thanks in advance.
A phone call, that's how it usually starts. She looks at the screen and licks her lips before sliding her finger over the screen in order to take the call. His name rolls sensually on her tongue, and she knows that he is expecting her.
He has a loft in the Valley. She has the key. It was a deal they made a long time ago, when they found out that they can't fully ignore the still existing attraction between them. Still, it's been a while since the last time he called. She drives home, his voice echoing in her ears.
In the shower, she lets the steaming water flow down her shoulders, her back, her thighs and legs. She washes the day away from her skin, preparing for something which is not new but still so refreshing. She wears a low back burgundy lace and chiffon dress and golden high heels and inspects herself in the mirror. She grabs a golden clutch purse and throws her phone and car keys inside before she leaves the house.
She unlocks the door. It's still daylight outside. She prefers it this way. She likes to see what she's doing. His loft is quite big and barely has any walls. He likes to work in open space and probably likes to fuck in open space as well. It's easy to move around when there are no walls to limit one's movement. The kitchen, library and his study are all in the same room. The bedroom and shower are the only rooms that are separated by walls. Most of the light comes from the big window. It offers a great view too.
Under any other circumstances, this situation would probably feel cheap to her, but not with him. He leaves her satisfied, gives just as much as he takes.
He's sitting behind his desk, wearing a dark grey tailored suit. The jacket is hanging on the chair behind him. He looks different, his eyes are darker, his hair is salt and pepper, a little longer than it was the last time they saw each other. He has glasses now.
"Sharon, I'm glad to see you." He gets up and wraps his arms around her waist possessively, pulling her close to him. His lips capture hers, gently biting her.
"Cesar, how long has it been, a year?" Her voice is sultry, warm and engulfing. He doesn't answer. She knew he won't, but she doesn't need him to confirm; she remembers the exact date of their last meeting. He turns her around and pushes her down against the table, lifts her dress and then stops. They always play the first round by his rules. Afterwards she usually takes the lead. And he happens to like her ass. He likes to look at it, appreciate her from behind, clad in a pair of black Brazilian cut panties that barely cover her cheeks. He gropes one of the cheeks, squeezes it tightly and then he slaps it forcefully. She moans. No one would have ever guessed that this kind of thing turns her on, but that was one of the things she liked to keep hidden at work. Her sex life is private and has nothing to do with her work or the way she performs it. Cesar slaps the other cheek and then his fingers slide under the hem of her panties, pulling it down until they pool at her feet. His fingers are exploring her and she spreads her legs to give him a better access. Her feet are shaking a little bit. It isn't easy to stand on such high heels in this position, but she's up to the challenge and besides, it's a good exercise too. His hand climbs up her inner thigh. She feels her muscles contracting under his touch. He caresses her slowly, taking his time. He likes to drive her crazy like this. It makes him feel powerful and strong and she knows that she shouldn't demand that he would go faster. It makes her look weak and needy. She holds back her moans, trying to make him think his touch doesn't affect her. He will need to go further up in order to satisfy her, but he already knows how to read the little nuances her body makes and she can't restrain those, as much as she wants to. Finally, she feels him getting close. He slips one finger in between her folds, slowly letting it immerse in her hot and wet center before slowly sliding it into her. She moans. It's such a familiar feeling and her inner muscles gladly welcome an addition of another finger. She rocks against his hand and he bends down and places his mouth on her back. She loves this dress for its rich color and low cut back and apparently so does Cesar, because he doesn't need to strip it off her in order to kiss his way up her spine. His lips suck on the skin between her shoulder blades and his teeth bite into it with every intention of leaving a mark.
"How about a third finger?" he asks. On their last encounter the third finger caused her quite a lot of pain, but she has been too stressed back then, working in order to find the leak in the Major Crimes unit. She nods slowly. This time it will be okay. They've done it before and it's mostly been very pleasurable. He slides his finger into her gradually. Despite his great partiality towards wild and rough sex he does care about her. His thumb rubs her clit in small and soft circular motions. He knows it drives her nuts. She needs a much stronger pressure in order to come. But this touch is not supposed to bring her to a climax. It's just meant to tease her, arouse her and make her beg for more.
"Cesar," she cries out and he smiles against the skin of her back then sinks his teeth deeper into it, bruising it. She groans and he licks the spot he just bit, his tongue soothing the pain he knows she feels. He likes to cause her pain, because he knows that it releases all the feelings she never allows herself to express; all the hurt and disappointment, all the frustration, all the longings and loneliness. Loneliness is the worst for her, he knows. The pain externalizes it. If she cries she can always blame it on the physical pain. In a sense, he satisfies her emotional needs just as much as he does the sexual needs. He proceeds to create a line of bite marks along her spine and he can hear her choke a cry of pain. She bucks her hips against his hand and he presses his thumb down on her clit. She's quite submissive today, he notices. Some days she guides his hands and other days she just sends her own fingers down her core and finishes the job herself. But she seems calmer today, or maybe distracted. Although both options are not ideal for him, he would prefer the first over the latter. Sharon is rarely distracted during sex. Most people would never be able to even imagine that she is a very sexual creature. A distraction means that someone else is on her mind, that she came to his loft because he asked her to and not because she wanted to. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind and sends his free hand to the front of his pants, unzipping and pulling them down. He looks down at his member. He's hard enough to last for a while. He pulls the fingers out of her and she nearly collapses on the table.
She props herself on her elbows and arches her back, granting him a view of her private parts. There is no need for any further encouragement. He slides himself into her, a bit more forcefully than he normally would, but she doesn't complain. Now it's her who's touching herself while he is thrusting in and out of her. Each of them is engrossed in their own pleasure, not caring for the other until she lets out a scream from the depths of her throat and he feels her slick fluids flow against his cock. Her arms are barely able to support the weight of both of them, her joints are aching, but she bucks against him faster, trying to help him fall over the edge. He growls when he finally reaches his climax and he releases her. She turns to face him as she takes a seat on his desk, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him into a passionate kiss. It's her turn to be in control and she's not gonna pass it. She feels his hands sliding under the dress and pulling it over her head. She doesn't wear a bra because it tends to get in their way and they don't like it. The expensive dress is thrown to the floor and now she's sitting on his desk, fully naked, save for the golden heels which she keeps on for now.
"You look good for your age. Have you gone under the knife?" he likes to think he's smart and putting her down is one of his quirky turn ons.
"Have you been using Viagra to help you achieve that erection?" She retorts.
"How about doing something useful with that dirty mouth of yours?" He grabs her wrists and pulls her off his desk, quickly positions her on her knees in front of him. His cock is halfway erect and she looks up, straight into his eyes as she leans forwards and takes the it in her mouth. Her tongue circles the head, her lips sucking gently. She likes to tease him, especially now when he robbed her of her turn to control the sexual act. He places his hand at the back of her head, his fingers grabbing her hair. If he pushes her head forward she'll bite him and leave, he knows, but he can still urge her in other ways, such as pulling her hair and his hand is a reminder of it. Still, she takes her time licking his groin, her fingers fluttering up and down its length and tongue gliding from the base to the top and back. He climaxes quickly; she doesn't even have the chance to take him into her mouth fully before his fluids are on her tongue. He probably didn't take that Viagra after all, she thinks. She gently pulls away, letting the slimy liquid slide down her throat. She doesn't know why she even swallows; most women do not and he never insisted that she does. It doesn't taste or feel good, but for some reason it turns her on. Maybe it's because good Catholic girls are not supposed to be on their knees sucking men's cocks and she blushes at the thought. Leave the church and catholic guilt out of the bedroom, she reminds herself. It's always on those moments that her catholic upbringing pops into her head and she feels ashamed, even if it's momentarily. He pulls her up and looks into her eyes. He knows what she's thinking. "Stop this," he says. "I like you daring, not shy." She shrugs and he pushes her away violently. "Okay, be a fucking nun." He resents the church for reasons that are beyond Sharon's grasp.
"Be careful with what you wish for." She glares at him and he can’t help himself. He has an addictive personality and he can't let go of her for too long. She is his weakness.
"The Jacuzzi?" he offers and she nods slowly. He laces his fingers with hers and they walk to the bedroom. Unlike the open space which contains the living room, kitchen and his workspace, the bedroom does not have a big glass window. Instead, it has a veranda with an amazing view that they can see from the hot tub. His shirt and tie come off as they make their way across the bedroom and so are her shoes. He offers her his hand and helps her into the warm water. "You're pretty today." He doesn't compliment her because he feels obligated to thank her for saving him from a lonely and boring evening. He does it because he likes the way her soft curls frame her face, the glint in her green eyes, the curves of her body. He's seen quite a few women and despite her age, she's the prettiest of them all. She blushes. Compliments always embarrass her and he grins. "So how have you been lately?" he asks as he leans back and lets the water calm his aching body.
"You mean the new position?" she asks.
"I mean your personal life. Have you been seeing anyone?"
"I've been too busy." Her eyes are staring into some random invisible spot in the air.
"Yes, I do have to admit that you're a little out of practice for someone who can't even remember the number of sex partners she's had in the past year, or their names, as a matter of fact." He teases her. He knows that she has a rich background with men, mostly ones who are much younger than her.
"Says the man whose only sex partners are hookers," she rejoins.
"Do you consider yourself one of them as well?" This question grants him with a slap across the face. There are many names he's allowed to call her, but a hooker or whore is definitely not among them. She finds it degrading and rude. "What about that lieutenant you told me about the last time? Have you slept with him?"
"He is a subordinate officer." She reminds him.
"Which would make it much more fun, don't you think?" Cesar would pay top dollar to watch her toss the rulebook out the window for once. And he wouldn't mind watching her having sex with another man either. In fact, he might even join in. He's been trying to convince her to take part in a threesome with another woman but she is yet to agree.
"That is never going to happen, Cesar," she fumes. He looks at her and a grin starts forming on his face. Making her angry turns him on and he's pretty sure she's not aware of it, which makes it even more of a turn on. He leans forward and captures her lips. His tongue explores the familiar territory of her mouth and dances along with her tongue. Their faces are so close that he can feel the flutter of her eyelashes on his cheek. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her on top of his body. She straddles him and his lips leave hers, travelling down her neck, trailing down her collarbone and finding their way to her breast. His tongue circles one nipple as his fingers do the same for the other. She lets out a deep, throaty moan and he teases the nipple with the end of his tongue, extracting another moan out of her mouth. She wraps her arm around his head, pulling him closer as she feels his teeth lightly biting on her nipple and the flutter deep down in her stomach that becomes stronger and stronger until she lets it out in the form of a loud whimper. Her fingers pull at his hair and she feels his cock hardening against her thigh. She sends her hand down, but he grabs her wrist and moves it away. If she gives him a handjob he won't last long enough for another round and he knows it. He would definitely like to fuck her one more time before his member goes limp for the rest of the evening.
"You wanna get out of here?" He asks against his skin and she hums to confirm. They go out of the hot tub and walk back into the bedroom, water dripping off their skins onto the parquet floor. He doesn't mind it, because watching water drops roll off Sharon's bare back is way too sexy. The bite marks he left along her spin are slowly turning blue and he finds it quite sexy as well. He places both his arms on her hips and turns her around. She's facing him now and he smiles as he moves a thick strand of hair from her eyes, his finger playfully gliding on the end of nose. He loves the surprised expression that spreads across her face. Maybe it's because she's not used to it when he's being gentle. He leans forward and captures her lips for a brief kiss. His fingers dig into the skin of her hips as his mouth slowly descends to her collarbone, and passes through the valley between her breasts. His lips continue their journey downwards, making a short stop on her navel button. She's ticklish around this area and he can’t resist the urge to hear her giggle. He enlists his tongue for the mission and without much effort manages to extract a long string of giggles out of her mouth. It's the kind of sound he finds himself missing every time she's not around. After satisfying his need to hear Sharon giggling, his lips travel further down. His hands gently push Sharon backwards until she sits on the edge of the bed and his lips can reach their destination. She situates one leg around his shoulders as his tongue teases her nub. She's quite close already but she knows he's going to torture her for a while before he really helps her climax. He hums against her core, and slides one finger into her. She leans back, propping herself on her elbows so she can see him working on her. She feels lucky that he goes down on her. She heard other woman complain that their partners won't go down there even if they were paid for it. She and Cesar never had that problem. He's been always willing to do whatever it took in order to satisfy her in bed.
"Oh, God," she feels the orgasm building up in the bottom of her stomach when he curves his finger inside her, rubbing that sensitive spot that she usually can't reach herself. His mouth goes into full action now - teeth, tongue and lips all work together in order to make her fall over the edge. She fists the sheets as she feels warmth filling her from the inside and flowing down her thighs. Cesar dips another finger into her and his lips torture her swollen clit until she feels another orgasm washing her over. Her moans and whimpers fill the room and her back arches away from the mattress. His lips kiss up her smooth mound and suck on the soft skin there. She reaches out for his hand and laces her fingers with his, gently pulling him on top of her and captures his lips. She wants him inside her now and he knows it. She needs to feel his warmth against her skin, his breath ghosting on her neck, his arms firm around her and he doesn't disappoint her. He penetrates her in a strong thrust and this time she's the one who guides the rhythm. She usually prefers it slow while he likes it fast. She finds a rhythm that's somewhere in the middle and he seems to be content with it. He hardens inside her with every thrust and she knows he's close. He used to be able to last for much longer until their last encounter and she prefers to think that it is due to his age and not the return of his drinking habits. He seems to be sober, but she can never be sure. Alcohol used to affect his performance in bed even when he was much younger and she hopes that he hasn't been revisiting his old habits after nearly two decades of sobriety. He growls into her mouth as she feels his liquids mixing with hers between her legs.
"Are you hungry?" he asks. Her breath is fragmented, laced with sighs and deep intakes of air and it takes a while before she is able to reply. She hasn't eaten anything since breakfast and it's nearly 8 PM. He pulls out of her and goes to the bathroom. She hears the water in shower running and she joins him, careful not to wet her hair. Together, they wash themselves of each other's bodies and fluids.
Later, she is sitting on his counter, with a big towel wrapped around her body. Her feet are dangling off the counter as she watches him mixing eggs for an omelet.
"Cesar," she says, knowing that she might spoil the entire evening with what she is going to say. "This is never going to happen again." She tightens the towel around her body, as if to give herself strength.
"I thought you enjoyed spending the evening with me," he says without turning around.
"I did," she acknowledges. "But I think we should grow up and stop this."
"Is it one of those other men?" he asks. "That lieutenant you like?"
"No. It's just that I feel that I deserve better than seeing you once a year." She should feel stronger when she says this, but she doesn't.
"Are you not satisfied with all the other guys?" he wonders.
"Cesar," her voice is shaking. "There are no other men. You are the only man I've ever slept with," she admits. He turns around to face her and inspects her with his gaze. She can see it in his eyes that he doesn't believe her. "I don't know why or how you got the idea that I've been screwing around like some bitch in heat, but the truth is that I haven't." He looks at her in shock. He knows that she was still a virgin when he married her, but he didn't have a clue that she never slept with any other man after their separation. This moment seems very unrealistic to him.
"Why?" he tries to hide the turbulence he's feeling.
"I don't know," she shrugs. She can see that he is upset with the discovery and she feels the need to sooth him but she doesn't know how. This is exactly the reason their marriage failed; they could never communicate properly outside of bed. "And it doesn't matter. I don't want to do this anymore."
"But the sex is the best part of our marriage. That is why we're still having it," he argues.
"Sex is and always has been the only good part of our marriage, Cesar." She doesn't mean for her voice to deliver such sadness but it does. "And I will miss it a lot, but these sexual encounters are the only thing that is still left of our marriage and we are holding on to it for too long. It's time for the both of us to let go."
"You want a divorce, is that what you're saying?" he knows she's right, but it doesn't mean she wants it to end.
"I do." The words hurt her as much as they hurt him.
"If that's what you want," he replies, his heart heavy. Then he looks at her and grins. "Did you really never sleep with anyone else?" she shakes her head. It will take him time to get used to these news. "It's unbelievable. You're such a good catholic girl." A smile graces her features.
"These are the rules." Suddenly they don't feel so hungry but they won't admit it. Cesar serves the omelet and they eat silently. When they finish, Sharon wears her dress again and puts her shoes on.
"You're so beautiful in this dress. I can't believe that I will never see you wearing it again." She allows him to wrap his arms around her and lean down to kiss her lips.
"Take care of yourself, Cesar. Keep going to meetings and call your sponsor if you feel you need help," she says and put her key to his loft in his palm.
"I will," He assures her. "And I hope that now that you're free, you can find someone special to take care of your needs; that lieutenant, maybe." His words make her grin.
"Goodbye, Cesar." After closing the door of his loft behind her, she throws a quick look backwards. She hurries down the hall and into the elevator.
She sits in her car and stares into the air for a long moment. She knows that asking him for a divorce was a good thing, but it still hurts. She wishes that she had the courage to admit the truth to him. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that the real reason she has never slept with any other man is that she has never stopped loving him. She loved him with her whole heart despite all the suffering he put her through during their marriage. Her tears sting her eyes and for the first time in years she finds herself sobbing bitterly. She knows she must look miserable, sitting in her car in a badly-lit parking lot and crying her eyes out. Suddenly her phone rings and she takes it out of her golden purse and answers.
"Lieutenant Flynn," she says, trying to choke a sniffle, but fails.
"Captain, are you okay?" On the other end of the call it sounds like the Captain is crying and her voice is shaking.
"I'm fine, Lieutenant. How may I help you?" she asks. Yes, she is definitely crying, Andy confirms to himself. He wonders what made her cry as he informs her that the Major Crimes division caught a murder. "Text me the address," she chokes another sniffle as she hangs up the call.
~~~~~
A/N2: I might write a follow-up story. Let me know if you want to read more.
Pairing: Sharon/Husband, also Sharon/Andy pre-ship
Rating: M / 18+
Synopsis: A phone call, that's how it usually starts. She looks at the screen and licks her lips before sliding her finger over the screen in order to take the call. His name rolls sensually on her tongue, and she knows that he is expecting her.
Warning: This story contains some kink (biting during sex) and mild descriptions of consensual rough sex.
A/N: I stareted writing this fic before the name of Sharon's husband was announced and I didn't want to change it, so bear that in mind.
In addition, I have been trying to write this fic in a different style than I usually do. I'd appreciate if you can share your opinions and criticism on it. Thanks in advance.
A phone call, that's how it usually starts. She looks at the screen and licks her lips before sliding her finger over the screen in order to take the call. His name rolls sensually on her tongue, and she knows that he is expecting her.
He has a loft in the Valley. She has the key. It was a deal they made a long time ago, when they found out that they can't fully ignore the still existing attraction between them. Still, it's been a while since the last time he called. She drives home, his voice echoing in her ears.
In the shower, she lets the steaming water flow down her shoulders, her back, her thighs and legs. She washes the day away from her skin, preparing for something which is not new but still so refreshing. She wears a low back burgundy lace and chiffon dress and golden high heels and inspects herself in the mirror. She grabs a golden clutch purse and throws her phone and car keys inside before she leaves the house.
She unlocks the door. It's still daylight outside. She prefers it this way. She likes to see what she's doing. His loft is quite big and barely has any walls. He likes to work in open space and probably likes to fuck in open space as well. It's easy to move around when there are no walls to limit one's movement. The kitchen, library and his study are all in the same room. The bedroom and shower are the only rooms that are separated by walls. Most of the light comes from the big window. It offers a great view too.
Under any other circumstances, this situation would probably feel cheap to her, but not with him. He leaves her satisfied, gives just as much as he takes.
He's sitting behind his desk, wearing a dark grey tailored suit. The jacket is hanging on the chair behind him. He looks different, his eyes are darker, his hair is salt and pepper, a little longer than it was the last time they saw each other. He has glasses now.
"Sharon, I'm glad to see you." He gets up and wraps his arms around her waist possessively, pulling her close to him. His lips capture hers, gently biting her.
"Cesar, how long has it been, a year?" Her voice is sultry, warm and engulfing. He doesn't answer. She knew he won't, but she doesn't need him to confirm; she remembers the exact date of their last meeting. He turns her around and pushes her down against the table, lifts her dress and then stops. They always play the first round by his rules. Afterwards she usually takes the lead. And he happens to like her ass. He likes to look at it, appreciate her from behind, clad in a pair of black Brazilian cut panties that barely cover her cheeks. He gropes one of the cheeks, squeezes it tightly and then he slaps it forcefully. She moans. No one would have ever guessed that this kind of thing turns her on, but that was one of the things she liked to keep hidden at work. Her sex life is private and has nothing to do with her work or the way she performs it. Cesar slaps the other cheek and then his fingers slide under the hem of her panties, pulling it down until they pool at her feet. His fingers are exploring her and she spreads her legs to give him a better access. Her feet are shaking a little bit. It isn't easy to stand on such high heels in this position, but she's up to the challenge and besides, it's a good exercise too. His hand climbs up her inner thigh. She feels her muscles contracting under his touch. He caresses her slowly, taking his time. He likes to drive her crazy like this. It makes him feel powerful and strong and she knows that she shouldn't demand that he would go faster. It makes her look weak and needy. She holds back her moans, trying to make him think his touch doesn't affect her. He will need to go further up in order to satisfy her, but he already knows how to read the little nuances her body makes and she can't restrain those, as much as she wants to. Finally, she feels him getting close. He slips one finger in between her folds, slowly letting it immerse in her hot and wet center before slowly sliding it into her. She moans. It's such a familiar feeling and her inner muscles gladly welcome an addition of another finger. She rocks against his hand and he bends down and places his mouth on her back. She loves this dress for its rich color and low cut back and apparently so does Cesar, because he doesn't need to strip it off her in order to kiss his way up her spine. His lips suck on the skin between her shoulder blades and his teeth bite into it with every intention of leaving a mark.
"How about a third finger?" he asks. On their last encounter the third finger caused her quite a lot of pain, but she has been too stressed back then, working in order to find the leak in the Major Crimes unit. She nods slowly. This time it will be okay. They've done it before and it's mostly been very pleasurable. He slides his finger into her gradually. Despite his great partiality towards wild and rough sex he does care about her. His thumb rubs her clit in small and soft circular motions. He knows it drives her nuts. She needs a much stronger pressure in order to come. But this touch is not supposed to bring her to a climax. It's just meant to tease her, arouse her and make her beg for more.
"Cesar," she cries out and he smiles against the skin of her back then sinks his teeth deeper into it, bruising it. She groans and he licks the spot he just bit, his tongue soothing the pain he knows she feels. He likes to cause her pain, because he knows that it releases all the feelings she never allows herself to express; all the hurt and disappointment, all the frustration, all the longings and loneliness. Loneliness is the worst for her, he knows. The pain externalizes it. If she cries she can always blame it on the physical pain. In a sense, he satisfies her emotional needs just as much as he does the sexual needs. He proceeds to create a line of bite marks along her spine and he can hear her choke a cry of pain. She bucks her hips against his hand and he presses his thumb down on her clit. She's quite submissive today, he notices. Some days she guides his hands and other days she just sends her own fingers down her core and finishes the job herself. But she seems calmer today, or maybe distracted. Although both options are not ideal for him, he would prefer the first over the latter. Sharon is rarely distracted during sex. Most people would never be able to even imagine that she is a very sexual creature. A distraction means that someone else is on her mind, that she came to his loft because he asked her to and not because she wanted to. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind and sends his free hand to the front of his pants, unzipping and pulling them down. He looks down at his member. He's hard enough to last for a while. He pulls the fingers out of her and she nearly collapses on the table.
She props herself on her elbows and arches her back, granting him a view of her private parts. There is no need for any further encouragement. He slides himself into her, a bit more forcefully than he normally would, but she doesn't complain. Now it's her who's touching herself while he is thrusting in and out of her. Each of them is engrossed in their own pleasure, not caring for the other until she lets out a scream from the depths of her throat and he feels her slick fluids flow against his cock. Her arms are barely able to support the weight of both of them, her joints are aching, but she bucks against him faster, trying to help him fall over the edge. He growls when he finally reaches his climax and he releases her. She turns to face him as she takes a seat on his desk, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him into a passionate kiss. It's her turn to be in control and she's not gonna pass it. She feels his hands sliding under the dress and pulling it over her head. She doesn't wear a bra because it tends to get in their way and they don't like it. The expensive dress is thrown to the floor and now she's sitting on his desk, fully naked, save for the golden heels which she keeps on for now.
"You look good for your age. Have you gone under the knife?" he likes to think he's smart and putting her down is one of his quirky turn ons.
"Have you been using Viagra to help you achieve that erection?" She retorts.
"How about doing something useful with that dirty mouth of yours?" He grabs her wrists and pulls her off his desk, quickly positions her on her knees in front of him. His cock is halfway erect and she looks up, straight into his eyes as she leans forwards and takes the it in her mouth. Her tongue circles the head, her lips sucking gently. She likes to tease him, especially now when he robbed her of her turn to control the sexual act. He places his hand at the back of her head, his fingers grabbing her hair. If he pushes her head forward she'll bite him and leave, he knows, but he can still urge her in other ways, such as pulling her hair and his hand is a reminder of it. Still, she takes her time licking his groin, her fingers fluttering up and down its length and tongue gliding from the base to the top and back. He climaxes quickly; she doesn't even have the chance to take him into her mouth fully before his fluids are on her tongue. He probably didn't take that Viagra after all, she thinks. She gently pulls away, letting the slimy liquid slide down her throat. She doesn't know why she even swallows; most women do not and he never insisted that she does. It doesn't taste or feel good, but for some reason it turns her on. Maybe it's because good Catholic girls are not supposed to be on their knees sucking men's cocks and she blushes at the thought. Leave the church and catholic guilt out of the bedroom, she reminds herself. It's always on those moments that her catholic upbringing pops into her head and she feels ashamed, even if it's momentarily. He pulls her up and looks into her eyes. He knows what she's thinking. "Stop this," he says. "I like you daring, not shy." She shrugs and he pushes her away violently. "Okay, be a fucking nun." He resents the church for reasons that are beyond Sharon's grasp.
"Be careful with what you wish for." She glares at him and he can’t help himself. He has an addictive personality and he can't let go of her for too long. She is his weakness.
"The Jacuzzi?" he offers and she nods slowly. He laces his fingers with hers and they walk to the bedroom. Unlike the open space which contains the living room, kitchen and his workspace, the bedroom does not have a big glass window. Instead, it has a veranda with an amazing view that they can see from the hot tub. His shirt and tie come off as they make their way across the bedroom and so are her shoes. He offers her his hand and helps her into the warm water. "You're pretty today." He doesn't compliment her because he feels obligated to thank her for saving him from a lonely and boring evening. He does it because he likes the way her soft curls frame her face, the glint in her green eyes, the curves of her body. He's seen quite a few women and despite her age, she's the prettiest of them all. She blushes. Compliments always embarrass her and he grins. "So how have you been lately?" he asks as he leans back and lets the water calm his aching body.
"You mean the new position?" she asks.
"I mean your personal life. Have you been seeing anyone?"
"I've been too busy." Her eyes are staring into some random invisible spot in the air.
"Yes, I do have to admit that you're a little out of practice for someone who can't even remember the number of sex partners she's had in the past year, or their names, as a matter of fact." He teases her. He knows that she has a rich background with men, mostly ones who are much younger than her.
"Says the man whose only sex partners are hookers," she rejoins.
"Do you consider yourself one of them as well?" This question grants him with a slap across the face. There are many names he's allowed to call her, but a hooker or whore is definitely not among them. She finds it degrading and rude. "What about that lieutenant you told me about the last time? Have you slept with him?"
"He is a subordinate officer." She reminds him.
"Which would make it much more fun, don't you think?" Cesar would pay top dollar to watch her toss the rulebook out the window for once. And he wouldn't mind watching her having sex with another man either. In fact, he might even join in. He's been trying to convince her to take part in a threesome with another woman but she is yet to agree.
"That is never going to happen, Cesar," she fumes. He looks at her and a grin starts forming on his face. Making her angry turns him on and he's pretty sure she's not aware of it, which makes it even more of a turn on. He leans forward and captures her lips. His tongue explores the familiar territory of her mouth and dances along with her tongue. Their faces are so close that he can feel the flutter of her eyelashes on his cheek. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her on top of his body. She straddles him and his lips leave hers, travelling down her neck, trailing down her collarbone and finding their way to her breast. His tongue circles one nipple as his fingers do the same for the other. She lets out a deep, throaty moan and he teases the nipple with the end of his tongue, extracting another moan out of her mouth. She wraps her arm around his head, pulling him closer as she feels his teeth lightly biting on her nipple and the flutter deep down in her stomach that becomes stronger and stronger until she lets it out in the form of a loud whimper. Her fingers pull at his hair and she feels his cock hardening against her thigh. She sends her hand down, but he grabs her wrist and moves it away. If she gives him a handjob he won't last long enough for another round and he knows it. He would definitely like to fuck her one more time before his member goes limp for the rest of the evening.
"You wanna get out of here?" He asks against his skin and she hums to confirm. They go out of the hot tub and walk back into the bedroom, water dripping off their skins onto the parquet floor. He doesn't mind it, because watching water drops roll off Sharon's bare back is way too sexy. The bite marks he left along her spin are slowly turning blue and he finds it quite sexy as well. He places both his arms on her hips and turns her around. She's facing him now and he smiles as he moves a thick strand of hair from her eyes, his finger playfully gliding on the end of nose. He loves the surprised expression that spreads across her face. Maybe it's because she's not used to it when he's being gentle. He leans forward and captures her lips for a brief kiss. His fingers dig into the skin of her hips as his mouth slowly descends to her collarbone, and passes through the valley between her breasts. His lips continue their journey downwards, making a short stop on her navel button. She's ticklish around this area and he can’t resist the urge to hear her giggle. He enlists his tongue for the mission and without much effort manages to extract a long string of giggles out of her mouth. It's the kind of sound he finds himself missing every time she's not around. After satisfying his need to hear Sharon giggling, his lips travel further down. His hands gently push Sharon backwards until she sits on the edge of the bed and his lips can reach their destination. She situates one leg around his shoulders as his tongue teases her nub. She's quite close already but she knows he's going to torture her for a while before he really helps her climax. He hums against her core, and slides one finger into her. She leans back, propping herself on her elbows so she can see him working on her. She feels lucky that he goes down on her. She heard other woman complain that their partners won't go down there even if they were paid for it. She and Cesar never had that problem. He's been always willing to do whatever it took in order to satisfy her in bed.
"Oh, God," she feels the orgasm building up in the bottom of her stomach when he curves his finger inside her, rubbing that sensitive spot that she usually can't reach herself. His mouth goes into full action now - teeth, tongue and lips all work together in order to make her fall over the edge. She fists the sheets as she feels warmth filling her from the inside and flowing down her thighs. Cesar dips another finger into her and his lips torture her swollen clit until she feels another orgasm washing her over. Her moans and whimpers fill the room and her back arches away from the mattress. His lips kiss up her smooth mound and suck on the soft skin there. She reaches out for his hand and laces her fingers with his, gently pulling him on top of her and captures his lips. She wants him inside her now and he knows it. She needs to feel his warmth against her skin, his breath ghosting on her neck, his arms firm around her and he doesn't disappoint her. He penetrates her in a strong thrust and this time she's the one who guides the rhythm. She usually prefers it slow while he likes it fast. She finds a rhythm that's somewhere in the middle and he seems to be content with it. He hardens inside her with every thrust and she knows he's close. He used to be able to last for much longer until their last encounter and she prefers to think that it is due to his age and not the return of his drinking habits. He seems to be sober, but she can never be sure. Alcohol used to affect his performance in bed even when he was much younger and she hopes that he hasn't been revisiting his old habits after nearly two decades of sobriety. He growls into her mouth as she feels his liquids mixing with hers between her legs.
"Are you hungry?" he asks. Her breath is fragmented, laced with sighs and deep intakes of air and it takes a while before she is able to reply. She hasn't eaten anything since breakfast and it's nearly 8 PM. He pulls out of her and goes to the bathroom. She hears the water in shower running and she joins him, careful not to wet her hair. Together, they wash themselves of each other's bodies and fluids.
Later, she is sitting on his counter, with a big towel wrapped around her body. Her feet are dangling off the counter as she watches him mixing eggs for an omelet.
"Cesar," she says, knowing that she might spoil the entire evening with what she is going to say. "This is never going to happen again." She tightens the towel around her body, as if to give herself strength.
"I thought you enjoyed spending the evening with me," he says without turning around.
"I did," she acknowledges. "But I think we should grow up and stop this."
"Is it one of those other men?" he asks. "That lieutenant you like?"
"No. It's just that I feel that I deserve better than seeing you once a year." She should feel stronger when she says this, but she doesn't.
"Are you not satisfied with all the other guys?" he wonders.
"Cesar," her voice is shaking. "There are no other men. You are the only man I've ever slept with," she admits. He turns around to face her and inspects her with his gaze. She can see it in his eyes that he doesn't believe her. "I don't know why or how you got the idea that I've been screwing around like some bitch in heat, but the truth is that I haven't." He looks at her in shock. He knows that she was still a virgin when he married her, but he didn't have a clue that she never slept with any other man after their separation. This moment seems very unrealistic to him.
"Why?" he tries to hide the turbulence he's feeling.
"I don't know," she shrugs. She can see that he is upset with the discovery and she feels the need to sooth him but she doesn't know how. This is exactly the reason their marriage failed; they could never communicate properly outside of bed. "And it doesn't matter. I don't want to do this anymore."
"But the sex is the best part of our marriage. That is why we're still having it," he argues.
"Sex is and always has been the only good part of our marriage, Cesar." She doesn't mean for her voice to deliver such sadness but it does. "And I will miss it a lot, but these sexual encounters are the only thing that is still left of our marriage and we are holding on to it for too long. It's time for the both of us to let go."
"You want a divorce, is that what you're saying?" he knows she's right, but it doesn't mean she wants it to end.
"I do." The words hurt her as much as they hurt him.
"If that's what you want," he replies, his heart heavy. Then he looks at her and grins. "Did you really never sleep with anyone else?" she shakes her head. It will take him time to get used to these news. "It's unbelievable. You're such a good catholic girl." A smile graces her features.
"These are the rules." Suddenly they don't feel so hungry but they won't admit it. Cesar serves the omelet and they eat silently. When they finish, Sharon wears her dress again and puts her shoes on.
"You're so beautiful in this dress. I can't believe that I will never see you wearing it again." She allows him to wrap his arms around her and lean down to kiss her lips.
"Take care of yourself, Cesar. Keep going to meetings and call your sponsor if you feel you need help," she says and put her key to his loft in his palm.
"I will," He assures her. "And I hope that now that you're free, you can find someone special to take care of your needs; that lieutenant, maybe." His words make her grin.
"Goodbye, Cesar." After closing the door of his loft behind her, she throws a quick look backwards. She hurries down the hall and into the elevator.
She sits in her car and stares into the air for a long moment. She knows that asking him for a divorce was a good thing, but it still hurts. She wishes that she had the courage to admit the truth to him. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that the real reason she has never slept with any other man is that she has never stopped loving him. She loved him with her whole heart despite all the suffering he put her through during their marriage. Her tears sting her eyes and for the first time in years she finds herself sobbing bitterly. She knows she must look miserable, sitting in her car in a badly-lit parking lot and crying her eyes out. Suddenly her phone rings and she takes it out of her golden purse and answers.
"Lieutenant Flynn," she says, trying to choke a sniffle, but fails.
"Captain, are you okay?" On the other end of the call it sounds like the Captain is crying and her voice is shaking.
"I'm fine, Lieutenant. How may I help you?" she asks. Yes, she is definitely crying, Andy confirms to himself. He wonders what made her cry as he informs her that the Major Crimes division caught a murder. "Text me the address," she chokes another sniffle as she hangs up the call.
~~~~~
A/N2: I might write a follow-up story. Let me know if you want to read more.