Strange Affair - Chapter Ten

This is a work of fiction, loosely based on the real person, Russell Crowe. No insult or injury is intended, this story is for entertainment purposes only.

This story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains explicit sexual situations and adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.

Strange Affair

by: Darrin Lee Hutton

Chapter 10

Deb sat beneath a tree on the far side of the house. Russell's property extended as far as she could see from where she sat, which was why she had chosen this particular spot. It made the perfect perspective gathering position. And perspective she needed.

The whirlwind she had been through in the last ten days had made her head spin. The premiere in New York. The awards ceremony in London. The festival in France. The flight to Oz. And one beautiful Aussie who took her breath away.

Deb was amazed at the depth of Russell’s love for her. Equally amazed at her own intense love for him. It was something so foreign to her. Dave had never so overwhelmed her. Just walking into a room, Russell was able to become the center of attention. It both mortified and delighted her to be captured with him in the intense scrutiny he found himself constantly barraged with. Flashing cameras at every venue, continuous flow of requests for his attention. And through it all, his arm was around her, keeping her close and safe.

It seemed second nature to him to protect her, while at the same time she felt as if he was showing her off. She had not spoken to any of the journalists, though. Russell had asked her before each excursion and she shook her head. Not yet.

"Whatever you need, Deb. Take your time." And then a sweet kiss as always.

And now here she was, in Australia, for Christ's sake! There was a reason she had taken this afternoon for herself. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts without anyone to intrude. Even the love of her life.

Arriving at Nana Glen had been a rare treat for Deb. Russell had prepared them for her being with him, apparently, because as soon as they had arrived family members had come pouring out of the houses in a frenzy of welcome. For Deb, who had not had any real family in her life for a long time, this was something she had no idea she would have missed so much. Mr and Mrs Crowe, who begged her to call them by their first names, but she just couldn't, had treated her like their very own.

The best part was what Deb thought of as "the kitchen time". All the boys in true Aussie fashion retreated to the telly room or other various parts of the house and farm whenever a meal was being prepared or cleared away. Deb was actually grateful for this time because she and Mrs Crowe could just talk simply without any reservation. Deb found herself sharing details she hadn't yet told even to Russell.

Mrs C, as Deb found herself calling Russell's mother in compromise, loved her boy dearly, and shared with Deb her gratitude at their meeting each other.

"It's good to see him so happy, luv. He's needed someone like you for such a very long time now. As I suspect you have, too."

Deb could only grin. Mrs C was terribly intuitive.

So here she was, sitting quietly under a tree, journal in hand, trying to gather her thoughts and come to terms with the adventure that was unfolding around her. She knew she should be working on lyrics as well, Russell had made sure she understood that when they returned to the States, she would begin her real career. And that required her to write. He had also refused to help in any way. This was to be all about her.

She stared at the blank page before her. And welcomed the sound of hoof beats coming towards her when no words came.

Deb loved watching him ride. He sat a horse so damned well. Looked damned beautiful while doing it, too. He rode up and stopped a few feet away, dismounting and quickly tying Honey to a branch of the tree Deb had chosen for her afternoon of quiet.

"Hey, luv, what ya doin'?"

"Unfortunately nothing."

"Still no words flyin' at ya, baby?" When Deb shook her head, Russell smiled. "No worries, luv, you'll be overflowin' once you get started." But Deb saw the disappointment cross his face. She hated to see it. Couldn't understand why, after decades of listening to rock and roll, she couldn't come up with one idea.

"Sorry, Rusty," she said softly.

"It's gonna be apples, luv, just you wait and see," he said, flopping down next to her.

"I hope so, she said.

She had never seen Russell this relaxed. It was why she had taken to calling him "Rusty", here on his farm, it just suited him. He laid his head in her lap, gently kneading her thighs, for all the world as if she was his pillow!

“Comfy?” she asked with dripping sarcasm.

“You know it, luv. Mmmm. Nice.”

“I’m supposed to be writing, you wanker!”

“I’m your muse. Have at it, woman.”

Deb placed the journal over his face and started writing nonsense just to make her point. Russell pushed the book aside and grinned at her.

“It’s time for tea,” he said, mischievously.

With an exasperated sigh, Deb pushed him off her lap and gathered her things together. Russell had other ideas.

“No rush,” he said, pulling her into his arms. And before she could protest, he kissed her.

He kisses so well, she thought, responding to him, heated as always. Feeling his hands roaming her body, one hand moving up, under her shirt, the other busy at the fly of her jeans. She could feel his smile as he finally got her zipper down and found his way unimpeded by panties; she had taken to not wearing any, given his constant “having at her”.

His fingers slipped inside her smoothly. “Deb, baby, you’re always ready for me. I love that about you. Come here.” Russell pulled her up onto his lap after removing both pairs of jeans from their bodies.

“No more than you’re always ready for me, honey.” Debra felt his hard cock nudge against her, sliding in her slick moisture, rubbing over her clit rhythmically. She moaned slightly, as she felt that first twinge she knew was the onset of her climax, something he could do to her so inevitably. Enhanced by love.

“Come for me, baby, let me feel you come in my arms.” He held her close, whispering in her ear, nuzzling her neck as her hips bucked against him, her entire body riding through her orgasm, just from his cock against her clit. “That’s my girl. Yeah, baby, so good. So good. Oh fuck, Deb, I want you, luv. I always want you.” He moved her hips a little and then rooted into her perfectly.

“I love your cock.” Said softly through her haze.

“I love your cunt.” Said rough in her ear.

“I love you,” Deb said, riding him gently into oblivion. Long minutes passed. Only sounds of their moans and whispers and Honey munching grass could be heard. Sweat dripping from their bodies in the heat of an Australian afternoon in December.

“Oh, God, Debra, I love you so much. Come, baby, come again. Love me. Come with your heart. Come with me.” Russell’s hips moved more urgently, Debra could feel his need for her racing his heart faster against her breasts. She held onto him tightly, kissing his lips tenderly. Come with my heart, God he makes it so easy to love him.

Grinding down onto his hips, clutching at him with her cunt, coming so hard, Deb could feel the heat spread through her body and gush out of her where they were joined. She cried out his name as he grunted and then cursed as his liquid first filled her and then seeped back out of her slowly.

“Oh, baby-girl. You always make it so good for me.” Russell held her close and continued kissing her gently, she could feel their sweat drying in the sun, a cool breeze against her skin making her feel as if she was a part of the nature surrounding her.

That’s when the thoughts swirled into her head and she pulled away from his kiss to reach for her journal.

~*~

Russell didn’t stop her. Just smiled as he watched her, oblivious of him, begin scribbling words in a rush onto the paper. But when she finally stopped she just closed the book and looked up at him, stretched under the tree, giggling at him still half-naked.

“Barmy sheila,” he teased as he retrieved his jeans and threw hers to her. Once dressed he picked up her journal and opened to the page she had been writing on.

Come with me

Come with your heart

Kiss me and hold me as only you can

Lover, you hold me

You love me always

It feels like forever, an entire life span

I can’t spend one minute without you

I can’t leave my heart all alone

I can’t imagine one day

Without your love thrilling me to the bone

Take my love

Take it all and more

Feed on it, thrive on it, I’ll be yours

Forever more

I’m always going to be yours.

Own me

Take me

Be mine as I am yours.

Russell looked at her, eyes wide. The slow grin across his face making her blush. And he knew he couldn’t comment. Knew that would make her skittish. So he just pulled her in and kissed her tenderly. Then brought her to her feet and helped her pack up. They walked back, Russell leading Honey, holding his sweet girl’s hand in his.

Days later, Russell and Debra were in Coff’s Harbour so Deb could meet her new psychiatrist and Russell could do some Christmas shopping. The packages stowed away in the car, he stopped in front of a tall, red brick building to pick her up at the appointed time. But she was nowhere to be seen. Russell told the driver to park as he got out to go look for her, assuming she was still inside the lobby. But he couldn’t see her. Just then his phone beeped.

He looked at the screen and saw it was Deb’s number. But as he brought it to his ear, there was loud, jarring music on the other end. He pulled it away and then slowly put it back, only just near his ear this time, and said, “Hello?”

“Russell?”

Russell recognized the voice immediately. It was a mate of his who ran a local pub nearby. “Nigel! What are ya doin’ with Deb’s phone?” He assumed Nigel knew whose phone he was using, but at the moment was extremely confused as to how he could possibly have it.

“Mate, you need to get over here right now. Your girlfriend needs you. Bad.”

Russell immediately made his way back to the SUV and mouthed “Nigel’s” at the driver, then went back to his call. “What the fuck are ya on about, mate?”

“I mean she showed up here a bit ago and now she’s drunk and getting belligerent. You need to come get her.”

“I’m on my way.” Russell shut his phone and urged the driver to get moving faster.

Once inside Nigel’s, he saw Deb immediately. She was sitting at the bar, glowering at everyone and sucking down what had to be straight vodka, from a shot glass, the half-empty bottle next to her. Nigel saw Russell walk in and the relief was very apparent on his face. Russell walked over to Deb and sat down next to her. He had no clue as to what was going on and did not know what to say to her. Hoped his presence would do something. It did.

With a soft thump, Deb’s head landed on her outstretched arm. “Fuck, here we go,” she mumbled. “What are you gonna tell me is wrong with me? Wanna know about my parents? My family life? Why I left Florida? Why I’ve only fucked two men in my life? Well, kiss my ass. If’n I don’t wanna talk about it, I don’t fuckin’ hafta. Fuck all of you.” She picked her head back up and threw the contents of her glass back down her throat and reached for the bottle. Russell stopped her hand softly.

“How about we call it a day, baby?” he said as gently as he could.

Debra wrenched her arm from Russell’s grasp, much more forcefully than his grip on her warranted. “Fuck you,” she spat out and reached for the bottle determinedly.

“I don’t think so,” Russell reiterated and pulled the bottle easily from her loose, drunken hold.

“I do, goddammit. Fuck you, Crowe.”

“Fuck you, too, Gale. Now stop it. You’re being a prat.”

“Are not.” Pouting.

Russell had had enough. He threw some money onto the bar and grabbed Deb’s purse and then picked her up, putting her over his shoulder and walked out of the bar, hoping like hell no one had a camera, or worse, video. Especially when she started hollering at him to put her the fuck down, goddammit!

Ignoring her protests, he manhandled her into the waiting SUV and told the driver shortly to get them back to Nana Glen, pronto. Debra, for her part, was screaming at him now and pummeling him with her fists. He stopped her easily, she was extremely uncoordinated in her inebriated state, and held her hands against his chest. She struggled against him feebly. They were almost back to the house before she stopped. He let go of her slowly. She turned from him, sullenly staring out the window as they approached his home. When the car had come to a stop, she yanked the door open and ran into the house. Russell followed, but was greeted with the slamming of the bathroom door as he headed down the hall to catch up to her. He stared at the door, completely non-plussed. Then shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to improve the situation given the state she was in.

Hours later, he stood outside the door again, knocking on it softly. “Want to eat something, baby?” he asked, plate of sandwiches and a cold drink in hand.

No response.

He shrugged again and left the plate and drink outside the door. As soon as he had turned the corner, though, he heard the door snick open softly and heard the plate and drink scraping the floor as they were dragged into the room. He continued to the living room and turned on the television, willing to wait her out. It was a lot longer than he anticipated.

At three the next morning, he woke with a start, realizing he had fallen asleep in front of the television. He turned it off and made his way to the bedroom, hoping she had finally come out and was in bed. No such luck. This is ridiculous, he thought, but got undressed, used the master bathroom in his room and went to bed.

He woke at nine. Still no Deb. Fucking Christ, that woman is stubborn, he thought. He got up and made them some breakfast. When he approached the bathroom, eggs and toast on a plate this time, with a cup of coffee in the other hand, he found the empty sandwich plate and cool drink bottle outside waiting for him.

“Hey, I’m not your fucking maid. If you’re hungry, you fucking come to the table.” Russell stomped back to the kitchen and ate his breakfast. Still no Deb. I can’t take much more of this, he thought, what is the problem? Russell couldn’t wait her out any longer. He didn’t care who won this battle of wills, he just needed his Raven-Haired Alto back in his arms. But his stubbornness was as fierce as hers and he would get her to come out of the bathroom, by hook or by crook.

He sat down in the hallway in front of the bathroom door, leaning his back up against it.

“Deb. I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you come out. Now, you can sit in there and sulk, or pout or whatever. Or, you can come out here and let me hold you and tell me what’s goin’ on. But those are your only two choices. I think one’s a lot more comforting than the other. But it’s your decision.”

Silence.

Then he heard a very quiet thud against the door and then a soft scrape as he realized she was sliding against the door down to the floor, mirroring his position on the other side.

Still there was silence.

Then gentle weeping.

Russell turned towards the door and leant his forehead against it. It was actually hurting him physically not being able to hold her. He felt his own throat constrict, as he placed his hand against where he imagined her shoulder was.

“Deb, please, baby, please. Please let me hold you. God, I love you so much. I can’t take this anymore. I must hold you. I need you. I –“

The door opened.

He rushed in and pulled her to him. The two of them on their knees, in the doorway, holding each other and crying. Russell held her face and kissed her through their tears, his hands unable to stop from running over her body, drawing her to him, drawing her into him, trying to take her pain from her.

“Tell me,” he said, when they had finally begun pulling themselves together.

She looked into his eyes and then scooted back from him against the opposite wall. He sat down, watching her intently.

“I love you,” she began.

He smiled. Her first words to him and they were the ones he always wanted to hear. “Yes,” he answered, “and I love you.”

“Russell, I can’t go again. I will learn to fly without fear, but I can’t go again.”

“Why, baby?”

“Because the things he, or anyone else you ask me to see, want to know aren’t things I can talk about to anyone but you. Because I believe you when you tell me you love me.”

He stared at her for a long time, weighing his answer.

“Okay, Deb. But you have to tell me. You can’t duck the questions anymore. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will, I promise.”

“And you’ll do it now.”

“But –“

“No. Now.”

Deb shook her head, wide-eyed. Russell returned her look with one of his own. She stopped shaking her head. Sighed.

Then began to speak.

“I told you my father was from England, but what I didn’t tell you is that he’s been there for the last seven years. I also didn’t tell you that my mother abandoned us eight years ago.”

“Baby,” Russell began, but Deb put a hand out to stop him.

“No, don’t. Let me tell you.” Debra put her head into her hands and spoke in a rush, pouring everything out. “We don’t know why she left. Just came home to all her stuff gone and a note saying she couldn’t help how she felt anymore and that she’d never be back. My dad did the best he could. I graduated from high school that year and when I was leaving for college he told me that he wouldn’t be there when I came home. He couldn’t take it anymore. I looked so much like her and he couldn’t take it. I begged, pleaded, but when I came home that first break he was gone. He’d made sure I was fully taken care of financially and we email but he never talks to me and never visits.” Deb’s tears took her over and she cried, but still stopped Russell from coming to her or speaking. “I’ve taken care of myself, but without Dave I don’t know what I would’ve done. Then when he died...”

And now it didn’t matter what she wanted, Russell pulled her into his arms, and she broke down completely, letting him hold her.

Through her tears, Deb kept talking. “So, when I told you I was broken, I meant it. Then when the shrink started asking me all these questions, I couldn’t think anymore. I just walked out. I had to get away. I had to –“ She broke off and wept harder. Russell didn’t know what to do, so did the only thing he could. Comforted her.

“Shh, baby-girl. I love you. It’s all right.” He rocked her in his arms, there on the bathroom floor, leaning back up against the wall, holding his girl in his arms, stroking her hair from her face as she cried out all the pain and hurt and rejection she must have bottled up all those years ago. And he cursed her parents to himself. This sweet, beautiful girl deserved all the love in the world and the two people who should have loved her more than anyone else ever would, had abandoned her. So much of their conversations and inexplicable things that had happened since he’d met her started to make sense now and he loved her more than he had thought possible. He wanted to shield her from the world, hold her forever and never let her go.

Russell didn’t know how long they sat there, Deb weeping, sobbing, quieting, then starting again as he held her gently. She fell asleep at some point and then Russell heard the knock on his back door finally bringing him back to reality.

Russell picked Deb up and took her to the bedroom, then went to answer the door. It was his brother, Terry, inviting them to lunch. He declined, with a promise to make it over for dinner that night.

When he went back to the bedroom, Deb was still asleep. He got onto the bed behind her and pulled her close to him. She stirred. Russell couldn’t tell if she was asleep or awake as she took off his clothing, then hers. Her eyes were half-closed and she didn’t say a word. Just sank herself onto his cock which had hardened at the sight of her removing her clothes. He didn’t know if this was the wrong thing to do with her after such an emotional upheaval, but she wouldn’t be stopped. Just rode him, slowly, steadily. When she came, he could only tell by the slight quickening of her breath and how her cunt clutched at him. And she kept riding him, sweat dripping from her, salty drops mixing with his as they landed on his chest.

He could feel himself ramping up to a climax, but didn’t want to come until she opened her eyes fully and let him know she was ready to end. And still she rode him. He thought of anything to keep himself from coming, the footy game he’d watched last night, the research he was preparing for his next role, Christmas, New Year’s, anything.

Oh, Christ, I can’t come yet, he thought desperately, but the sweet friction of her against him was becoming maddening. He had to come.

“Deb.”

No answer.

“Baby, please.”

Still she rode on.

And came again around him.

“Fuck, Deb!”

And he came. His body took over and he came into her, spurting his liquid heat into her, coming and coming into her, his Deb.

And still she rode him. He tried hard to remain erect for her. Felt himself softening, but through sheer will maintained his cock’s semi-hardness inside her.

As she rode.

He didn’t know how he managed it but he could feel a second climax beginning to overtake him. And when she opened her eyes at last and held her arms out for him, he sat up into her embrace and listened to her whisper his name. He rolled her onto her back and rutted into her fiercely.

When they came together, Russell was barely able to breathe as he cried out with her. He stayed on top of her for long moments, unable to move except for the spasming of his hips as she kept clutching at him with her cunt as she came back to him, slowly, so very slowly. This had never happened to him before. Recuperative powers aside, he’d never come twice in one session. He was astounded, to say the least.

“Baby, how’d you do that to me?” he whispered.

“Don’t know.”

“Love you,” he said softly, as he brushed stray locks of her black hair from her face.

“Love you, too.”

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. Relieved.” A tear formed at the corner of one eye and fell back into her hair.

Russell rubbed his thumb against her temple where the trace of it disappeared into her black tresses he loved so much. “Better, though, right?”

“I suppose. But I worry that you’ll leave me now. That’s a horrible thing to tell you, but I can’t help it. I need you so much and I know that’s not where we should be. It’s too soon. It’s –"

“Shh, baby-girl. It’s always been too fast with us. I don’t know why. But we’ve come too far to go back now.”

“Rusty?”

“Mmm, yeah, luv?”

“Is it all right? I mean, that I told you?” the pain on her face made his heart wrench.

“It’s always all right, Deb. You have to tell me everything. Always. Don’t ever keep anything from me. Ever. Okay?”

“’Kay. Because you love me,” it was a statement, but he could hear the question in it, too.

“Yes, Debra, I love you. Full weight.” The happy little smile on her face was enough to make him burst with that love.

~*~

Christmas with Russell Crowe. Debra hadn’t thought much of Christmas or holidays in general in recent years, but she got into the swing of things given Russell’s overabundant enthusiasm. It seemed every day there was shopping to be done, then wrapping and making cards. Every so often she’d dive for her book and scribble a few lines of something that struck her and soon she had a dozen or so fully formed songs. She was extremely proud of her accomplishment because it really was that. Her accomplishment. Russell would read them, but made no suggestions, he was determined to let her career alone, to her.

Christmas Day dawned bright and early for both of them. There had been so many arrivals during the past week of relatives; Russell called them “rellies”, which made Deb giggle hysterically for some inexplicable reason. But still, even after going to bed so late Christmas Eve, Deb and Russell woke up around seven and headed to his Mum’s place for Christmas breakfast which turned out to be quite an affair.

So much food. So many rellies. And Russell’s attention split ten different ways at any given moment. It was such a joy to watch him interacting with his family; it was so very apparent how much he loved them. Deb found herself engaged in many a “So, luv, what about you? Tell us everything!” conversation, that she wished she had a brochure so she could stop repeating herself. She ducked the family questions as she had for the last eight years. Ease of practice at fooling people that she had answered their questions without actually saying anything got her through most of it. But still, a couple of hours later she found herself sitting in the living room, mimosa in hand observing instead of participating in Christmas Day with Rusty’s family. She was content, though. Russell made sure to make his way over to her often for a quick kiss and cuddle before being led off by yet another relative.

Another few hours later and Debra found herself making her way to the kitchen to see what Mrs C and a few of the aunts were up to. The boys had settled into a footy game outside and as much as she loved watching her boy and cheering him on through the scrimmages, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed and hoped for a bit of respite in the kitchen. Still in observing mode, she took a seat quietly in the breakfast nook and listened as the Crowe women nattered on, preparing yet more food.

Her mind began to wander and she didn’t hear Mrs C call her name until the second try.

“Debra! Where have you gone to, luv?”

“Oh, sorry, Mrs C, just wool-gathering, I guess. It’s such a lovely day and you’ve made this such a wonderful Christmas. I can’t thank you enough.” Deb suddenly noticed that they were alone in the kitchen.

“Is everything all right, luv? It feels like you’re not entirely with us today.”

“Oh, no, not at all! Everything’s fine.”

Mrs C sat down across from Debra, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Now you can’t fool me, Debra Gale. What is going on behind those eyes my son loves so much?”

Debra blushed. “Nothing, Mrs C, really, I just…”

Mrs C placed her hand over Debra’s and smiled indulgently. “You don’t like the hols much, do you?”

“No.” Deb said in a small voice.

“That’s all right, luv,” she said and patted her hand softly. “You tell me and we’ll keep it our little secret. No need to tell Russell, he loves this time of year and you’re a very sweet girl to pretend everything’s all right for him. But we’ll have a cuppa and you can tell me.” She got up and poured them two cups of tea from the ever-present kettle brewing on the stove.

“So what makes you sad this time of year, luv?” Mrs C asked as she sat down again, handing Deb her “cuppa”.

“I lost my mother just after Christmas eight years ago.”

“Oh, Debra, that’s terrible! What happened?”

And Debra found herself involuntarily telling Mrs C the whole thing. How she had come home from a friend’s New Year’s Eve party in the wee hours of the morning, drunk as a skunk, hoping like hell her parents wouldn’t find out. But things had felt very odd. There was an emptiness in the house she couldn’t understand. She had stumbled into the bathroom to pee but before sitting down, had noticed that one thing that let her know something very bad had happened. Her mother had this brush she was very fond of. Had gone through hell and high water to always make sure it was in its place on the counter. Her grandmother had given it to her and for as long as Debra could remember, that brush had sat in its proper place on the bathroom counter.

Even through her drunken haze, she had noticed it wasn’t there.

She had gone tearing through the house, completely unmindful of waking anyone who was home, because she knew, she knew, something was very wrong. And there, on her parents bed, was the note.

By this time, Debra was crying on Mrs C’s shoulder. “She couldn’t say why. She never told us why.”

“It’s all right, luv. That’s it. It’ll be better now. You go on and have a good cry.” Mrs C put her arms around Debra and patted her back and stroked her hair for all as if she were just a little girl with a bruised knee.

But this was a bruised heart and took a lot of comforting to get through. Mrs C gave Debra what she needed.

Russell burst in through the back door to the kitchen of his Mum’s house, sweaty and exuberant, completely failing to notice the two women in the breakfast nook. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter as he guzzled half of it down. That’s when he saw his mother and Deb sitting staring at him from the nook.

“What?”

Mrs C stood up and ruffled her son’s hair. “You’re all sweaty. How’s the footy game going?”

“We’re winning,” he crowed and attacked Deb, failing again to notice that anything was out of place with her. Just ran a scrimmage attack on her body, making her giggle the way he loved.

“Not in the house, young man,” his mum admonished, “you save that for the appropriate place.”

“Yes, Mum,” he said with a wink to Deb. “You comin’ out to cheer for me?” he asked Deb, then started to see something on her face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mrs C interrupted before Deb was forced to answer. “Deb was just going to help me with the yams, so you go on now and play. She’ll be out later.”

The look on Russell’s face indicated that he didn’t like being lied to, but Deb saw the resignation on his face as he made his way back out to the yard to rejoin his brother and cousins.

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation with him just yet.”

“I know, luv. He can be overbearing sometimes and certainly force his will when he wants his way. But he listens to me. If he knows what’s good for him,” she chuckled.

Deb laughed with her and got up to help with the yams.

~*~

Hundreds of presents and miles of paper and ribbon later, Christmas was almost over. Russell was sitting in an easy chair in his Mum’s living room, Deb on the floor beside him, her head on his knee. He was about to light yet another cigarette, when he felt her sigh against him. He looked at his watch, it was after two. Time to take her home and fuck her rotten, he thought to himself, unable to stop the lascivious grin spreading across his face. It took almost a half hour to get out of the house but he was finally able to get him and Deb separated from the rellies and walking towards his house. He had his arm around her waist and kissed her hair every so often as they walked through the grounds in the moonlight.

As they approached his home, he whispered softly, “One more pressie for you luv.”

She groaned softly. “Well, yeah, I didn’t think we were ending Christmas without a bang, baby.”

He giggled. “I meant an actual pressie, Deb.”

“You mean your cock’s not a gift?”

Russell laughed. “Well, it is, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Oh, fuck, sit down, ya barmy sheila.” They had gotten inside and were in the living room. Deb sat down on the sofa and Russell joined her after he fetched a small package hidden in the branches of his tree.

“Close your eyes, baby.”

“Oooh, are we gettin’ kinky?”

Russell sighed. “I should have not let you get knackered tonight.”

“Not knackered, mate, just happy. And in love with you.” She giggled softly. “Prime hunk o’ beef that you are.”

“I’m tryin’ ta be serious here, Deb!” Russell protested.

“Sorry, baby, ‘kay, eyes closed.”

“Hold out your hands.”

Deb did as she was told, the snarky grin he saw on her face belying the comment he knew was just itching to get out.

He opened the small velvet box and took out a silver filigreed ring and placed it on the third finger of her right hand.

Deb opened her eyes, all snarky comments now gone, he noticed.

“Rusty, what? What is this?”

“It’s a promise ring. I’m promising myself to you. Want me?” His turn to be snarky.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. The force of her embrace landed them on the floor.

“Yes, oh yes! God, you are the most beautiful man to ever walk this earth. I love you.”

Russell chuckled at her. “Well, that’s beauty, luv.” He rolled them over, laying on top of her. “Want you now, babe.”

“Take me now, lover.”

They struggled out of their clothes while trying to kiss each other, grunting with the effort to stay in contact and remove the offending items from their bodies. They had barely gotten naked when he thrust into her, surprising a small yelp of delight from her.

“You like my ‘gift’, don’t you?”

“When you do that with it, fuck yeah!”

He grinned evilly at her and pulled her legs up to his chest.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered.

“No riding for you tomorrow, my sweet.”

“Christ, Rusty, fuck!”

“Mmm? Somethin’ you need, luv?”

“Shit!”

“Yeah, just like that, baby, let me feel you come, Deb, hard.”

He was driving into her, slow tempo, but every time he hit his target she cried out so loudly. He grinned at her, watching her come, feeling her walls clutch hard at his cock, hearing her screams. That sweet alto voice of hers raised in a frenzy of need for him. Promise himself? Shit, he couldn’t think of another woman he’d ever met who filled him with this need, this promise of love.

“Come again, luv. Come for me. Once more. Yeah, love you coming on me, love fucking you.”

“Russell, please I can’t…no more…”

“Just one more, baby, just one.” He pushed into her harder, speeding up, dropping her legs to feel them wrap themselves around him, letting his hips take over and pound into her, feeling her squeezing her cunt around his cock, coming, just for him, always, just for him.

And then sliding into his climax with her, grunting and then cursing harshly as he filled her with his seed. It felt like he would be milked dry before he could stop spasming into her.

Fuck, he loved this woman. He would love her forever. His Raven Haired Beauty. His Debra.

His Promise.

Chapter Eleven or Index for Strange Affair

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