#johnica

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The bedroom seemed so quiet without her. John liked it better when his lover layed next to him, maybe she'd give him a good night kiss or hold him, but tonight, as many nights lately, he layed alone in the dark. He still thought about her, even if she said she needed distance.

My husband suspects I'm cheating, she'd said. I have to stop seeing you so frequently, at least for a while. She'd apologized to him, many, many times, but that didn't make the young man feel much better. He wanted to be above this pathetic affair he got himself into; he had his life ahead of him, after all, he was only in his mid twenties, and had all the freedom in the world to go out and have fun.

Specifically, "fun" with other women. His dear mother waited for him to finally bring a long-term girlfriend home, not believing that "an attractive lad like you are" hadn't found someone yet, and John didn't have the guts to tell her that he did already, that he'd fallen in love already.

He didn't want to have sex with other women, he only wanted her. Veronica Tetzlaff. A woman around twenty years his senior, and if you'd round it up, almost twice his own age. But there was just something about her that made him go feral, that let his heart beat higher and higher, made his hands sweaty when he was out on a secret date with her.

As he was so lost in thought, her pretty face in his inner eye, he almost didn't notice he'd started to silently cry. Angrily, he wiped the tears away.

Well, now what? He felt ridiculous for feeling this way about her, she'd been clear in what she wanted. She had a husband already, and didn't need another man loving her romantically, but how, John thought, how the hell am I supposed to not fall in love with her when she looks and acts like this? In his eyes, she was a goddess, beautiful and elegant, and he savored her body in a way that you could almost call worship.

The man layed in bed and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to call her, just to hear her voice, chatting about her day, asking about his, he didn't even needed any phone-sex, just wanted to talk to her again. But if not Veronica but her husband would answer the phone... No, he didn't want to think about that. He was too much of a coward to call her, anyway.

I wonder if she knows how much I miss her. Does she know I touch myself when I think about our nights together? Does she do that, too? Veronica, do you love me, too?

She was unreachable to him. A woman like her, of her age and maturity, of her social status, wouldn't like to be seen cheating on her husband of sixteen years, let alone with a university student of a college just nearby the school she was head teacher of. John couldn't stop by her work anymore, her house was strictly forbidden in case her husband would be home, and both a letter and a call he knew weren't things she'd be happy to receive from him.

A thought came to his mind, one he'd thought about many times already, despite feeling pathetic and dirty for it. Would she leave him for me? She had barely anything to miss in her life now, and he couldn't for the love of God think of a reason other than sex that would make her want him.

John sat up in the bed and wiped his nose, mad at himself for giving into his own needs once again and making himself cry with it. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a soft man, not as strong as her husband appeared to be.

I like the way you squirm under my fingers, he had her silky voice in his ear. You're so much more reactive and sexy than my husband is, Johnny. She wouldn't have lied about that, would she? Veronica was an incredibly honest person, one you wouldn't think would ever cheat, but her lust took over at rare times. Those rarities turned more frequent when she was with him, though.

He felt lost in his thoughts, and there wasn't anything that could help him other than the woman he loved. Defeated, like many nights before, he cuddled back under his own blanket, and his mind presented him with twisted versions of his life, a life he'd never be able to have like this.

And as too many nights before, he fell asleep alone.

-

There was a knock on the door, just when John wanted to put the last bits of his groceries away, and his brows furrowed with confusion as he walked through his small apartment. The last bits of sunlight shone in, giving his furniture a golden touch. It was a luxury to live on his own, even when he could cross the flat to reach the door with just few steps.

His hand layed on the handle already when it knocked again, more impatiently this time, and he curiously opened the door, expecting one of his friends asking them to join them for a party at the university, or to study.

But once he opened the wooden door, he almost forgot to breathe, his eyes widening at the sight.

"John?", the woman in her forties asked with a careful smile, her pretty face framed by light hair. She wore a long coat, appropriate for the fading autumn, but her presence had an impact on the young man as if she stood in his door completely naked.

"V-Veronica", he breathed out flustered. He didn't look into her eyes, scared of his own potential reaction. "What- What are you doing here? I thought-"

"I wanted to see you", she cut him off quickly, and if one listened closely, there was a hint of a tremble in her voice. "I just wanted to see your face again."

John swallowed, his greenish eyes flickering up to meet hers for a second. His cheeks felt hot, and he prayed to God that he didn't just blush because of such a simple sentence.

"Well, you did see me now", he replied, much more sassy than he'd wanted it to come out.

"Can I come in, please?"

"Why? - You- You said you'd call and we'd still meet, just not so often, but it's been weeks now and I didn't hear from you just once", he blurted out. Well, now his cheeks were definitely flushed, he could even feel tears springing to his eyes as his heart beat in a rhythm that had to be unnaturally quick.

"I wanted to call, I promise, just..."

"...I wasn't important enough", John ended the sentence for her, but she vividly shook her head.

"No, no, no, Johnny, no, you are important, I just can't sneak out anymore, my husband..."

"...is more important than me. Yes, I understand."

She reached her hand out to touch his cheek, and he hated himself for leaning into her touch. God, did he miss that! He noticed she wasn't wearing her ring, probably she'd taken it off on the drive here. Stupidly, it made him hope.

"Please, let me come in."

Hesitantly, he did so, stepping back to give her room to enter his apartment. To think he'd rented this one because it was close to the house she had with her husband...

Veronica walked all the way through, before halting at the sofa, yet not sitting down, as she waited for the younger man to follow her. His long hair hid his cheeks not enough, she could see how red he was in his handsome face as he stood in front of her, waiting.

Maybe he should dare it. His heart seemed to burst either way, and the pathetic tears and late-night crying sessions wouldn't stop by themselves.

"John-"

"I missed you."

She looked at him in surprise, taking a step closer. With trembling hands, she cupped his face, her touch gentle, almost loving, as she bowed his chin up. Wide, green eyes looked at her, trusting, and one side of his face was golden from the sunlight, his wavy hair shining softly, like honey. Her thumb stroked over his cheekbone, over the little birthmark there, silently adoring his beauty.

"So did I", she mumbled. "I didn't think I would."

It was a smile laced with huge sadness that appeared on his face, his eyelashes wet with tears as he looked at her with utter trust and, he had to admit it, love.

"Please don't leave me again", John whispered, his voice so broken that it almost equaled a whimper.

"Johnny, I'm married..."

"I know, but we made it work", he protested whiny. He wanted to turn his face away, but her hands gently forbid it.

"I cannot cheat on him any longer. - I'm sorry."

"Then why did you come to me?"

That Veronica didn't know. He saw her swallow as she thought about how to answer. An internal struggle. Truthfully, her mind had been a mess due to several things, and the only logical thing that occurred to her - or in hindsight not logical at all - was to drive to John so he could make it all better. She didn't want to drive back to her husband, nor did she want to stay at her workplace, and her family wasn't the best option either. Her only and best choice was him.

"As I said", she murmured with insecurity lacing her usually so calm voice. "I wanted to see your pretty face again."

He glanced in her brown eyes, tears spilling over in his own, but neither of them did something about it, his tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and over her petite hands without hindrance.

John took a desperate breath, before quietly asking: "Do you want to kiss my face, too?"

Her lips were as soft as they were in his memories, making him feel as if he'd fly, higher and higher, only Veronica by his side, and she was enough for him, they were good for each other, fitting together as if they'd lost each other a long, long time ago.

But in his memory, her kisses were longer and deeper than this one, and didn't taste as salty.

She shook her head and let go of him, her hands falling to her sides and disappeared in the coat. "Johnny, I shouldn't be here."

"Please don't leave."

Her lips were pressed together as she felt she got torn apart on the inside. He'd only been supposed to be an affair, a young man that got her excited to have sex again. But now... God, when she looked at him she wanted nothing more than his unrestrained love, wanted to touch his slender body, come home to him every day, not the man waiting for her in the big house she felt so lonely in since she'd met John.

"I'm so, so sorry", she repeated, as so many times already, and even though the man knew she really didn't enjoyed to hurt him like this, the words only tore his heart apart more each time. Her apologies told him that his love wasn't enough to make her stay, nor his body. He would've learned to be satisfied with staying an affair, as long as that'd mean she'd enjoy being with him, even if it was purely sexual.

With her head kept low, she passed the young man by, walking to the door, and his tear-filled eyes followed her back, the long coat hiding the figure of her body, but he knew it by heart, anyway. His feet didn't move as he watched her walk away from him, the only reaction of his body were little sobs. A part of him wanted to run behind her, press her against the wall and yell how she could do this to him. And maybe she'd try to silence him with a kiss, and he'd put his hands under her coat and shirt, touching her skin, making her feel loved...

"Veronica", he whispered hoarsely. Her hand rested on the handle, she came to a halt at his plea. The hope streaming through his whole body was close to making him tremble, he couldn't focus on anything but her, wasn't even aware of how much he was crying.

It felt like a moment of decision. She could walk through that door, leave him alone, sobbing and upset, and go back to her husband, as she should. Decide for her marriage, as she promised sixteen years ago, because she believed that this was the right way. Or she could choose him. Veronica didn't have to turn around to know the view. The young man standing in the middle of the parlor, his shoulders fallen down, tears wetting his pretty auburn hair, and making his face puffy and red. He had to love her. She was sure he did, even if he never actually said it, but the way he behaved... John was in love with her, and was too exhausted to hide it anymore. What would happen if she chose him? She wasn't sure, but there was a hope of real love, of true affection, but who said it wouldn't fade as well, like her love to her husband had faded without her even noticing until she felt it was already too late?

But she'd promised it to him, so many years ago, and she wasn't one to easily give up on her promises. This promise had been for life.

"You should move on", she said thickly and opened the door. She had to leave or else his strangled sobs would make her give in, again.

Only when the door fell close, locking her out, John's feet seemed to want to move. With quick steps, he walked there, but it wasn't of any use. She had decided against him, and the young man felt as if he couldn't breathe anymore.

His hands clasping at the drawer of shoes in the hall, he tried to take deep breaths, but almost every single one was interrupted by a pathetic sob. Deep within, he knew it's been a goodbye, the last one. You should move on.

But John wanted her to himself, he didn't want to move on, even if he should.

And Veronica stood at the top of the staircase that led up to his apartment, faintly hearing his cries, and her heart screaming and begged for her to go back, telling her she made the wrong decision. She didn't like those feelings that bubbled in her, that made her tear up. She'd decided for what she believed to be right, and that was marriage.

Each heavy step she took down the stairs, the feeling seemed to double, she walked slowly, overwhelmed. To help herself leave, she started counting the steps away from him. Six, seven, eight... While she did wish John to move on, there was a little voice in her that begged him not to. It felt nice, to be so deeply loved like that. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve... She began to wonder if her husband would notice her puffy face, from all the crying she did already and probably would continue in the car. And even if, would he bother to actually listen to her answer, no matter what lie she'd have to tell him? Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen... All this crying and she didn't know whom to go to for soothing. Her heart yelled to go to John, but- Sixteen... She was married for sixteen years now, and stopped on this step, her hand clinging onto the stair rail. He was so different from the man crying upstairs.

Veronica started to shiver when she realized. In all the time she knew John, it's always been him she wanted to go to, he made her feel alive and wanted. Whenever something happened, good or bad, she wanted to tell him, hear his little excited voice and see his big smile. Her favourites were the times he was all over her the moment she came in, though, his lips on her neck and his hands on her waist. His little whines, causing her to moan, their bodies working so well together. God, Veronica, baby, you taste so good. Mhh, let me hear your moans, fuck, I want you so bad, baby...

No, she didn't want any of this! God, why couldn't she just fall in love with her husband all over again? Why did it have to be a different man, especially a younger one? A loud sob escaped her, she couldn't even hold it back with her hand. Her back was aching as if her pain was physical, her knuckles white with how tightly she held herself at the rail.

It didn't take long until John heard an urgent knocking, followed by a familiar and both loved and hatred voice.

"John, baby, pl-"

He opened the door before she could even finish, his eyes red and tears streaming all over his cheeks, but still, he forced a smile on his face, which felt to Veronica as if someone had stabbed her heart with something blunt and teared the object all the way through to inflict as much pain as possible.

"What?", he sobbed.

"I want you, Johnny. One more time, please. I miss... God, I miss your moans and the way you call me baby, and I miss the way you look when you come", she blurted out.

"How dare you - hick - come here and expect me to just- to... succumb to your wishes?!"

God, she really didn't expect that. "Don't- Don't you want to?"

"I want nothing more and that's the problem!", he yelled in her face, ending in another small hick due to all the crying. "I want you, baby, so why do you make it so hard for me to see you leave me behind?!"

"Because I'm married!"

"Then go back to your fucking husband!"

Veronica sobbed, stroking through her hair with slightly wet hands, glancing at him with sparkling eyes. Her voice was so quiet and broken. "But I don't want to..."

"Either you- you want me or not, but p-please, don't do this to me. I-" He took a shuddery breath. "I'm all in, I...love you. So if you want me..."

She stepped forward until she was in his personal space, and he looked at her and then neither of them knew who made the first step, both leaned in until their lips met.

Her petite hand clasped his hair, pulling him against her more passionately, and he successfully tried to drag her in her flat, pushing the door close with his foot, which caused her to giggle against his skin.

"I love you, baby, I love you so, so much", she groaned, his heart beating higher and an involuntary moan escaped him, while his hand sneaked around her waist.

He wanted more of those little sounds of her, those whined "baby"s and devilish "fuck"s, those affirmations that she adored him. John hated himself for wanting her so badly, for giving in to her time and time again, but when she touched him like that, her hand scraping along his back and making him shiver, he wasn't able to help himself.

Veronica pressed him against the wall with such eagerness that it made the two of them chuckle before they went back to kissing and roaming their hands over each other's familiar bodies. Every now and then he whimpered into her mouth, and she had to think about how different it was from the man she was married to; when her husband called her baby, it seemed like nothing more but a fake pet name, empty and without actual adoration behind it, a tiresome addition. But John... His every moan, every "baby" seemed sincere, heavy with love and untamed desire, and she absolutely loved hearing his voice so laced with pleasure. Whenever she had sex with him, she felt taken care of, as if he couldn't keep his hands off her to save his life, while she did almost anything to wind out of having to sleep with her husband. It was John she wanted.

He was so passionate about her, and she loved him; everything in this moment seemed perfect, if there wasn't her golden ring in a drawer of her car.

"You can't leave me again", John whispered while kissing along her jawline, his hands on her ass, pulling her as close to him as possible. "I love you, this asshole doesn't care just one bit about you, baby."

"God, I love you so much more than him..."

"Does he call you baby, too? Can he make you feel as good as I do?", he asked into her skin, with more than a hint of jealousy showing. It was cute, she thought.

"No one calls me baby the way you do, Johnny..."

"I want you to be mine, Veronica. Only mine. I might not be able to give you all the things he does, but I love you so much and 'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

As he held her so tightly and she had her arms wrapped around him to keep him like that, she simply took a deep breath. For a second, it seemed so easy. "Okay, baby. - Okay. I love you too, we can get through this. Together."

He pulled away from her, much to her dismay as she loved feeling his lips on her skin, but the way the young man looked at her made her heart sing. It felt as if there were no barriers left, the obstacles almost forgotten for a precious moment; he stopped holding himself back and exposed all his deepest feelings to her, trusting her to not stamp on them. Here I am, and I'm yours, he seemed to silently say.

"Can my love be enough for you, baby?", he whispered, his voice thick with all the emotions in his slender body. "Am I enough for you to stay?"

Dreams. John didn’t have many of them, or at least it didn’t recall them very much.  A few fragments, snippets of actions or moments in the blur, faces or vague figures but nothing more. All he knew was that he moved a lot during his sleep, and apparently it was according to his dreams, to the actions he was making while he was in dreamland. His wife never complained about it, she just mentioned it a few times, curious as for what her husband could have been dreaming of.

This night, Veronica noticed her husband was particularly agitated, and hoped he was not having a nightmare. Thanks to the weak light that was in the room, she looked at his face, ready to wake him up in case he was in distress. But his face seems happy, more than happy even, so Veronica gently kissed his cheek and went back to sleep.

John was also usually an early bird, waking up first in the house. He usually went downstairs to make coffee and this day being his birthday didn’t mean he would have waited to be served like a kid on his special day. Just like he did every morning when he was waking up by her side, he looked at his wife for a moment, as she was still slightly snoring, gently rocked within Morpheus’ arms. He turned around to get up.

“OUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHHHHH”, John let out a loud scream of pain, brutally waking his wife.

“Oh my God, John, are you okay?”, she asked, terribly worried.

“My back, my back is stuck, oh lord it hurts so bad, what the hell???”, John explained, complained and cursed all at once.

“Are you able to move at all ? what’s going on?”, Ronnie asked, still incredibly concerned.

“I can’t, I’m stuck….”, Deaky said as he put back his head on the pillow.

“Hold on, I’m gonna get some painkillers right now and I’m going to try to massage you”, his wife said as she energetically went out of bed to get what she needed to help her husband.

John looked at her, with a mix of anger given how quickly and easily got out of their bed. She rapidly came back with a glass of water and a painkiller, which John put in his mouth right away. He swallowed, as his back was still tense, hoping the tablet would be efficient soon.

“Okay, turn around now.”, Ronnie firmly said.

“Excuse me?”, John replied, raising his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna massage you, silly. Shoo, turn around”, she repeated as she made a motion with his hands to illustrate her words.

“Oh, no Ronnie I’m going to be fine, don’t worry.”, John said, trying to avoid a massage.

“John Richard Deacon, you better lay on your stomach right now or else I’m going to do it myself and I’m not going to be gentle.”, she warned him, very seriously.

John looked at her, confused. Was she really going to use force to give him a massage? He wasn’t sure, but she seemed extremely serious. As a result, John complied, gently laying his stomach, waiting.

He felt his wife’s soft hands on his skin, making him shiver.

“I hope my hands are not too cold…. Where is it painful?”, she asked, this time way more gently.

“My lower back seems stuck….”, John replied, his head between two pillows.

“Okay, let’s see….”, Ronnie carried on, as she put some lotion on her husband’s back.

John slightly arched at the sensation, but tried to remain still, so that the massage, combined to the painkillers, would be useful. Deaky suddenly heard his wife giggle.

“Are you mocking me?”, John complained, his voice muffled given his position.

“No no, of course not. I just had this silly thought of me being a Dom right now, doing erotic stuff to you….”, she explained, tittering again.

“Ronnie, do you really think this is the right moment to think about sex?”, John asked, as he was still feeling his wife’s hands massaging him on his back.

She got closer to his ear, whispering : “it’s always the right moment to remind my husband I love him and I still have a strong desire for him”.

John felt his cheeks suddenly getting hotter and probably as red as the most mature tomato one could ever see. As a reply, he only let out a soft ‘hum’, a smile still appearing on his lips.

And then, all of a sudden, and since his wife had mentioned the topic, John remembered. Fragments, like he often did, but he remembered.

He remembered a passionate moment with his wife in his dream, his skin pressed on hers, the ardent kisses they were sharing, his hips rocking on hers.

And he remembered how his last thrust as he was reaching orgasm made him arche his back strongly. His body surely moved as well as he was dreaming, hence his back blocked as he woke up.

“John?”, Ronnie asked. “The massage is done, are you okay? You’ve been very quiet”, she worried.

“Yes, thank you, honey.”, John replied, as he got into a more comfortable position, to breathe properly.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re as red a as tomato?”, Ronnie asked.

“Yup, all good, I’m feeling better already. I’m be up soon.”, John tried to reassure her.

Yet, the two of them had been married for a very long time now, and even if Ronnie was no mind reader, she knew her husband so very well. She looked at him in silence for a few seconds and a smile appeared on her lips.

“We did have a steamy night in your dream, right? And you took me so intensely that your back got stuck, right?”, she asked, a mischievous smile on her lips.

“Oh god, Ronnie, what the hell?”, John tried to fake being shocked after her insinuations.

“Try and tell me I’m wrong. After all, there is nothing to be ashamed of…. Even in our vows, we said ‘I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.’….”, she reminded him.

“Yes, okay, yes, that’s true. Happy?”, John confessed, his feeling switching from being ashamed, and slightly irritated.

Ronnie was still looking at him with a mischievous smile. She got closer and kissed him on his soft lips.

“Try and get better so that after the kids are gone, we can celebrate your birthday properly, just the two of us.”, she said with a wink.

She got up and left the room, leaving John with his thoughts. He spoke out loud, as if he was warning his back.

“You better get back on the right tracks buddy, because tonight’s gonna be the night….”.