A Hard Rain; chapter seven, part three

Michael tried.  He really did.  He knew that he was in danger of doing something really stupid, so he began making excuses as to why he could not go to Tina’s family for dinner.  He had too much work.  He was too tired.  He had a migraine.  Tina started complaining after the third time he skipped out, but he couldn’t afford to see Amy again.  So, even though it displeased Tina, he continued to make his excuses.  One day, however, he and Tina got in a huge fight on the very subject.

“Mikey, I don’t know what’s wrong with you.  You act as if my family isn’t good enough for you, or something.”  Tina raised her voice as she continued to berate her fiancé.  “Daddy keeps asking where you are, and it’s embarrassing to have to tell him that you didn’t come again.”

“Tina, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy at work.  I—“

“Your work is more important than my family?”  Tina narrowed her eyes and stared hard at Michael.  He knew that if he didn’t want a bigger problem on his hands, he would have to go to the damn dinner.

“All right.  I’ll see what I can do at work.  I’ll be there.”

“Oh, Mikey!  Thank you!”  All traces of petulance left Tina’s voce as she squealed in glee and hugged Michael.  Now that she had gotten her way, she was all giggles and smiles.  Michael suppressed a sigh as he hugged Tina back.  He had a bad feeling about dinner, but it was too late for him to back away now.

“Michael!  Good to see you again.  Tina tells us you’ve been working very hard these days.”  Senator Robertson boomed, shaking Michael’s hand firmly.

“Yes, Sir.  I put in fourteen hour days, regularly.”  Michael replied, trying valiantly not to look around the room.

“Hello, Michael.  Fancy seeing you here.”  Amy appeared out of nowhere, a vision in white.  She was wearing a low-cut dress that ended well short of her knees.  The scarlet lipstick she had on accentuated the curve of her lips, and Michael couldn’t tear his eyes away from them.  “My heater is working wonderfully, thanks to you.”

“Glad to hear it.”  Michael said in a strangled tone.  He could feel himself harden, and he quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom.  Once in there, he splashed some cold water on his face to cool himself down and tried to think erection-deflating thoughts.  The problem was, all he could think about was how gorgeous Amy had looked in her white dress and scarlet lipstick.  That did nothing to kill his hardness.  “I can do this,” Michael muttered to himself, opening the door.  To his surprise, Amy was standing right outside.

“My turn,” she said huskily, pressing her body against Michael’s.  “Excuse me.”  She was purportedly trying to get by, but she was not making an effort to pass—make a pass, yes, but not actually pass.  “Oops.”  She “accidentally” grabbed his ass as she went by him, and it took all of his self-control not to throw her on the floor of the bathroom and have her then and there.  Instead, he swiftly left, trying to keep his hormones under check.

“Mikey, you look flushed.”  Tina materialized out of nowhere, nearly scaring Michael out of his pants.  “Here.  Have some wine.”  She handed him a glass of red which he drank, though he preferred white.  “Dinner time!”  She grabbed him by the hand and tugged him to the dining room.  As luck would have it, he was seated next to the only open seat—which meant that Amy had to sit next to him when she returned.

“Something smells good, Mother,” Amy said as she slid into her chair.  The title jolted Michael as he was used to hearing Tina call her parents Mommy and Daddy like a little girl.

“Helen cooked a pot roast.  Your father’s favorite,” Mrs. Robertson said, slurring her words the tiniest bit.  She had a big glass of red in her hand from which she was liberally sipping.  “Here’s to the whole family gathered in one place.  Who knows when it will happen again?”  Her tone was bitter as she raised her glass, but everyone pretended she was sincere and raised their glasses as well.

Conversation was strained as one topic after the other petered out.  One person would bring up something, say, music.  One or two other people would add a lackluster opinion, and then silence.  Sometime during the main course, Michael felt a hand on his thigh—and not the thigh on the side where Tina was seated.  It was Amy’s hand, of course, and she was slowly massaging his thigh.  Michael’s erection hardened even further, though he wouldn’t have thought it possible.  He managed to keep his tone even as he contributed to the conversation as it were, but he felt his cock straining to get out of his pants.  He prayed that Amy wouldn’t touch his cock even though he really wanted her to do so because he had a hunch that he would come in his pants if she did.  She kept stroking his thigh in slow, steady motions, and she was driving him crazy.  Just as he was about to do something really stupid, she withdrew her hand and favored him with a brilliant smile.  His smile was a bit wobbly in return, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Conversation picked up when they started talking about politics.  Everyone in the family was a Republican to a varying degree—except Amy.  However, she did not join in on the conversation, even when her family started talking about how the unpatriotic liberals all needed to be shot because they didn’t back the war in Iraq.  Amy was used to tuning out her family when they started on the subject of politics because she knew that anything she said would be derided or ignored, anyway.  Michael had conflicting emotions as he listened to the conversation.  While he was a conservative, he didn’t have the far-right beliefs that many of the Robertson family had—including Senator Robertson.  Maybe it was because he was a lawyer, but he firmly disapproved of warrantless wiretapping and indefinite detention, and he most certainly disapproved of torture.  He was smart enough not to voice his opinions, however, as he did not want to get on the wrong side of the Robertsons.  Besides, he was too focused on Amy to really participate in the conversation—which was getting loud.  It’s funny how they mostly agreed with each other, but they felt the need to shout, anyway.  The din was so deafening, he almost missed the whispered voice in his ear.

“Meet me at my house in half an hour.  You remember how to get there, I hope.”  It was Amy issuing an invitation, and Michael knew he was going to take it, consequences be damned.  He felt Amy press a napkin into his lap, and looking surreptitiously down at it, he saw that it had her cell number on it—presumably for him to call her if he got lost.  He immediately started planning how he would make it to Amy’s house without getting in trouble with Tina.  As he was plotting, Amy suddenly stood up and yawned, arching her back theatrically.  “I’m bushed.  I’m going home.  Thanks for dinner, Mother.  Thank Helen for me as well.”

“You didn’t have dessert, dear,” Mrs. Robertson said, spitting out the last word.  She had only picked at her food—preferring to imbibe her supper rather than eat it.  Consequently, she was thoroughly soused by the time Amy got up to leave—and her tongue was acerbic.  “You need to put a little meat on your bones.  No man wants to hug a skeleton.”

“Good night, Mother.  It’s been lovely, as always.”  Amy’s eyes flashed, but she kept her cool.  After nodding to the room in general, Amy swept out of the room.  Everyone could hear her pause in the foyer so she could put on her coats and boots, and then they heard her slam the door shut.

“Good riddance,” Jack Jr. snorted, eliciting hearty laughter from the rest of the family.  “She is such a drag.”  He drank a beer, even though he was underage.  His family didn’t mind him drinking, as long as he did it at home.

“I don’t know why you keep inviting her, Mommy,” Tina said with a pout.  “She rarely talks to anyone, and then she always leaves early.”  Tina finished her wine and held her glass out for her father to pour more.  She was sloshed, but that didn’t stop her from drinking more.  It was yet another thing Michael didn’t like about her.  He had nothing against drinking, but he didn’t believe in overdoing it.  He pushed the thought away as his mind returned to Amy’s invitation.  He had jammed the napkin with her number on it into his pocket, and it was burning his thigh.  After listening to the family gripe about Amy for a few more minutes, he stood up as well.

“I’m sorry, Tina.  I still have some work I have to get done tonight.  Do you want me to drop you off at home on my way to the office?”  Michael knew the answer to that.  There was no way she would want to cut the evening short, so she would end up crashing in her old room for the night.  In fact, he was counting on it.

“No thanks, Mikey.  I’ll stay with the family.”  Tina beamed at Michael and tilted her face so he was forced to kiss her cheek.  “I’ll probably stay the night, so don’t wait up for me.”

“I won’t.”  Michael squeezed Tina’s hand before going to the foyer to gather his things.  His hands were trembling as he pulled on his boots.  He felt like a high school kid about to get his cherry popped, and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all.  He had lost his virginity when he was fourteen to an older girl (sixteen!), and since then, he’d had many girls.  He had to admit that he’d become jaded over time, and this was the most excited he’s been about being with someone new in years.

Michael finally managed to put on his boots, his coat, and his gloves.  He hurried to his car and started it on the third try.  He found Amy’s house easily, and he pulled up to her house in what seemed like no time at all.  He killed the engine and sat in his car for several minutes, trying to gather himself.  Even though he felt like a high school kid about to fuck for the first time, he certainly didn’t want to act like it with Amy.  He reminded himself that he was a well-known attorney, on the fast-track to becoming a state prosecutor.  He further reminded himself that he’d been with plenty of women who had been more than satisfied with his performance.  Somehow, neither of these thoughts helped as he desperately wanted to impress Amy.  He took several deep breaths and climbed out of the car.  He had hardly pressed the buzzer when the door was opened, and he was yanked into the house.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted you,” Amy said huskily, pushing Michael against the wall.  She pressed her body against him and kissed him hard on the mouth.  He made a noise in his throat as he eagerly kissed her back.  Amy slid her hand down his chest and his stomach until she was cupping his cock.  Michael pushed his erection against her hand, desperate for her.  She broke off the kiss, unzipped his pants, and then sunk to her knees.  It took Michael a minute to realize what she meant to do, and by the time he figured it out, she had his cock in her warm mouth and was sucking it gently.  He almost came when he felt her lips pull at his cock, but he managed to restrain himself.  He didn’t want the evening to be over before it even started, and he had a hunch he was going to be one and done this time around.  He placed his hands on Amy’s head and gently guided her mouth—but she didn’t need any encouragement.  She sucked him as eagerly as if she were eating her favorite ice cream cone.  Michael appreciated it because as much as Tina loved sex, she gave horrible head.  She never got the hang of folding her lips over her teeth, so there were several times that she would accidentally nick Michael as she sucked him off.  Needless to say, that put a dent in his enjoyment of said activity.  Happily for Michael and his cock, Amy was a pro.  She was so good, Michael had to stop her after only a few minutes so he wouldn’t come in her mouth.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Amy said, standing up and kissing Michael on the lips.  She tasted faintly of him, which turned him on even more.  He hastily pulled up his pants and followed Amy to her bedroom.  He didn’t leave until it was nearly dawn.


“This must be so hard for you, then.  I am so sorry for your loss.”  Leslie is being truthful.  She knows how Prosecutor Erickson is feeling, only she’s allowed to openly grieve in a way that he cannot.

“I miss her so much!  We only had those few months together before Tina found out.  It was awful.  She got a text I meant to send to Amy.  I don’t know how that happened.”  Prosecutor Erickson is sniffling, and Leslie is afraid that he’s going to completely break down.  “I mean, I was so careful all the time.  I had to be.  Especially as they were sisters.  I have both of them on speed dial, of course, but I always double-checked to make sure I texted the right sister.  I really screwed that up.  Tina went completely berserk when she found out.  I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake, Ms. Wilson,” Prosecutor Erickson says softly, his voice laced with pain.  He has obviously forgotten that he told Leslie she could have two minutes of his time because he had to be somewhere, and she isn’t about to remind him.  She senses that he’s about to shut down the font of information, so she intends to get as much out of him as possible before he remembers that he’s spilling his guts to a complete stranger.  She can’t help feeling, though, that he is being too tough on himself in this particular instance.  Leslie firmly believes that Amy forwarded the message to her sister in order to cause trouble.  Leslie keeps that thought to herself.

“We all make mistakes, Prosecutor Erickson, especially when we are in love.”  Suddenly, Leslie recalls something Prosecutor Erickson had said earlier.  “You said you saw her recently?”  She isn’t afraid that the question is too blunt because she’s realized that Prosecutor Erickson needs to talk about Amy and any flimsy pretext will do.

“I did.  I ran into her outside my office about a week before she died.  She broke up with me right after the fiasco with Tina because she felt guilty about causing her sister pain.  It was the first time I talked to her since then.”


“Michael!  How good to see you.”  Amy beamed at Michael as he came to a complete halt outside his office.

“Amy.  It’s been a long time.”  Michael drank in the sight of Amy.  She was wearing a sea-foam green dress under a smart black coat, and she was radiant.  “How are you?”

“I’m great, Michael!  How are you?  Do you have time for lunch?”  Amy was bouncing on her toes, clearly happy about something.

“Yes.  I do.”  Michael and Amy ended up going back to Amy’s place and having sex rather than eat lunch.  It was as explosive as it’d ever been, and Michael felt alive in a way that he hadn’t ever felt.

“Oh, Amy, I love you so much,” Michael breathed as he fucked her with long, steady strokes.  “I’ve missed you so much.  I’ve missed this.”  He pushed all the way in her and held himself still, savoring the feel of her clamping down on him.  Michael could feel her nearing her climax, which spurred him on as well.  He closed his eyes as she came, and then he followed soon after.  When he opened his eyes again, he saw, to his consternation, that Amy was crying.  “Amy!  What’s wrong?  Did I hurt you, baby?”  Michael quickly withdrew and then just held Amy in his arms.  “Talk to me.”

“Just hold me, Michael.”  Amy turned and buried her face into Michael’s chest.  They lay that way for some time.


“That was the last time I saw her,” Prosecutor Erickson says with a sigh.  “I thought about her constantly after that.  I wanted to call her, but I never did.  You know, when she was actually—dying, I was in my office quietly getting drunk because I knew I could never be with her.  She was dying, and I was being a selfish bastard.  Story of my life.”

“You couldn’t know,” Leslie says, wanting to comfort this man somehow.  “You—”

“I have to go.  Thank you so much for listening, Ms. Wilson.”  Prosecutor Erickson quickly hangs up.  A few seconds later, Leslie slowly hangs up her phone as well.

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