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psalm22-6 · 1 year

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"John the Jack" is a children's adaptation of Les Mis by Australian clergyman and schoolmaster Stacy Waddy, published in 1915, soon after the outbreak of WWI and the book's proceeds benefited the Red Cross. The book is 104 pages and was printed as Macquarie Streets, Parramatta, New South Wales. It begins by introducing the cast of characters:

People who come into this story: John: A man just out from gaol, after nineteen tears. He is hunted by the police all his life. Javert: The police-inspector who took the lead in hunting John The Good Bishop: Who was so kind to John that he changed John's heart Father Madeleine: This was what John called himself at one time in his life. Petit Gervais: A little Italian organ-grinder. Cosette (or "The Lark"): The little girl whom John saved and made happy. Marius: The man Cosette married in the end. Thenardier and His Wife: The only really bad people in this story. Gavroche: A plucky, witty little gutter-boy Fauchelevent: An enemy of Father Madeleine; but Father Madeleine saved his life.

Here is the book's intro to give you a feeling for the book's tone and messaging:

WHAT IT IS ALL ABOUT I am going to tell you the story of a man who found life very hard. His name was John. Everything seemed to be against him, from the time he was born till the time he died; life pressed very hard upon him, and he nearly became a very, very bad man. Only you will hear how, just at the right time, he met a very, very good man; and that changed John; and always afterwards John tried to be very good himself. And he had some wonderful adventures, but he always behaved like a hero; and he was tremendously strong, and could lift great weights, and could climb any wall, and hit the mark with a bullet every time. And while we are telling his story we will hear about other people too who found life press very hard upon them. There is little Cosette, who had no father or mother, and was very cruelly treated by the savage Thenardier and Thenardiess (they are the only really bad people in these stories). And there is Javert, who hunted Old John for years and years—but John saved Javert’s life. And there's sharp, plucky little Gavroche, and Fauchelevent, and the two little stray children, and Marius, and the dear good old Bishop who changed John’s heart. And we shall see what happened at the Bishop's house, and at the Convent of the Petit Piepus, and inside Gavroche’s elephant, and when Marius watched through the peephole into Thenardier’s room. And these things happened—not long, long ago, but only about a hundred years back from to-day. The great Napoleon was Emperor during part of the time; the dear old Bishop knew him; then Louis was king; then Charles the Tenth. And we will hear about the terrible battle of Waterloo, and about the people fighting against the soldiers behind a barricade in the streets of Paris; and about the cruel way the French people treated men in gaol (but our English people were nearly as bad). I cannot say that the things in this story really and actually happened. But at any rate they are just like things that really happened to real people. The man who wrote this story was a great Frenchman named Victor Hugo; and his heart was sorry for the hard life that men like Old John had and Gavroche, and poor helpless little Cosette (but Old John saved her, and at last she married and lived happily with Marius). And Victor Hugo wished to make us sorry for such things too. It is true that things are much better now. But there is much still for us to grieve over; and when we grieve over a thing, then we should try to make it better.

Up through the part with Petit-Gervais, it is a fine adaptation for something aimed at children and includes many details. There is even one whole chapter on Myriel, how he went to Italy because of the "terrible French Revolution," how Napoleon made him a bishop, and the episode with the stolen goods from the Cathedral, which probably would be interesting to children? But no Conventionnel of course haha. Myriel is described like this:

He loved all men; and especially he loved to help people who were in misfortue, even if it was their own fault and they had been wicked.

The book is about as Christian as you would expect. Then we get introduced to Javert and are told:

We must not blame Javert too much [for being suspicious of Mayor Madeleine; he was just what the laws made him. They wanted policemen to be like hounds, who only care to follow a scent and hunt down the man they are chasing like a wild beast. This man had to catch men and put them to prison. 0, Father Madeleine, it will be terrible for you if Javert gets an idea you have been in gaol! You must be very, very careful not to give him any sign that you are John. [. . .] We will see that, in the rest of [John's] life, he could have lived happy and rich if only he would have stopped helping people sometimes, when it showed who he was. For Javert was watching and watching. And Javert was like a tiger to people who had been in gaol. He would have hunted his own father or mother if they had escaped from gaol. He said, ‘If a man has been in gaol, he is absolutely bad. No mercy to such men.’’

There is very little Fantine, predictably. (She is never even named.) This is what we get:

There was a poor woman who had become bad just because she could not get any work. [. . .] One night Javert caught this poor woman; he said she had been making a noise on the street. It was not really her, but a cruel man; but Javert said she must go to gaol for six months. [. . .] Javert said, "Policemen, take her away to gaol." Just then Father Madeleine came in, and he made Javert let her go. Javert was terribly angry and that very night he wrote to the head policeman at Paris and said, "Madeleine is really John, and must go back to gaol."

Then we get the trial at Arras which also has some good book details and also "John's" rescue of the sailor and subsequent escape. Surprisingly there is no Sister Simplice though. I guess they didn't want to teach kids that lying is permissible. Now we get to Cosette:

Cosette was terribly afraid of the dark. No one had ever taught her about the good God and the holy Angels who watch.

John takes Cosette to Paris:

I must say that when John saw that he was sent to gaol again, even though he had been so honest and kind while he was called Good Father Madeleine, he had begun to forget about the Bishop a little, and to have bitter thoughts about men like Javert [. . .] but then God sent him Cosette. And that made him loving again [. . .] So we see that the strong man saved the little child, and also the little child saved the strong man.

John and Cosette escape from Javert into the convent and we even get the coffin escape. Now it is time for Marius's backstory.

Later on we will see that John and Cosette went out of the Convent, and met other people. So now I must tell you about those other people, who were going to become part of John’s life and Cosette’s. If you had looked into that old house where Cosette had left Catherine, you would have found that in one room lived a young man called Marius, who wore very shabby clothes, but seemed to be a gentleman; [. . .] His father had been an officer in the army of the Emperor Napoleon, who was always having wars. After each battle, Napoleon would write down the names of those who fought bravely, and often he wrote, “George Pontmercy has been very brave.” That was Marius’s father.

We do get Mabeuf telling Marius about his father although he is not named. We also get Theodule (unnamed) spying on Marius.

The old man [Gillenormand] screamed out bad words about Napoleon and Marius's father. Marius felt as if he had a whirlwind in his head. Then he shouted bad words about the King. [Marius leaves, refusing to accept his grandfather's money] He thought of his heroic father; and he thought about the King, who did not govern well, and he felt, "If ever I get the chance, I will fight for the people, and drive this King away." This is why Marius was poor.

The book briefly mentions that Marius was in love with Cosette and that the Thenardiers were his neighbors (Eponine is not named). The attempted robbery at the Gorbeau house is recounted, complete with John burning his own arm and Javert offering his hat. Next, we meet the momes.

"Haven't you a father of mother?" [Gavroche] said. "Yes, but we don't know who or where they are." (Now I know who they were. And who do you think were the father and mother of those two little boys? Why, those brutes of Thenardiers! [. . .] But God sent Gavroche to them! And, wasn't it wonderful?

No sir it is not wonderful. Also that wasn't God. That was Victor Hugo. Next. This is a children's book of course so there's lots of repetition and not so subtle foreshadowing, like this comment about Gavroche when he gives the momes bread:

"Surely, if he had grown up, Gavroche would have been a loving many like old John!"

Montparnasse isn't named but of course, we do get the story of his attempt to rob John and the subsequent sermon (since this is quite a Jesus-y adaptation that should come as no surprise. Actually the sermon is surprisingly abridged) and he asks Gavroche to help break his father out of prison. Then it takes a quick turn.

[Gavroche] never saw the little ones after that morning, though he told them to come back to the elephant and he would look after them. And now I must tell you the last adventure of little Gavroche. There was fighting in the streets of Paris. The people hated their King, and got guns, and built up barricades with stones and carts, and fought the soldiers. And Gavroche thought, ‘I must have a share in this. How grand!" [. . .] The fighting was terrible. There was a cannon firing at the barricade; the men inside would not surrender, but determined to die. That poor old man to whom Gavroche had flung the purse, was there, and a bullet went through his head and killed him. He would never want food any more.

Then Gavroche gets killed too. Then it flashes back to John and Cosette. It even mentions the scene with the chain gang. It is very out of order at this point and tells us that John wanted to leave France because he saw Marius and Thenardier and Javert all sneaking around his house. Marius finds out Cosette is leaving.

He thought, "I have lost her; I do not care if I die." At that very moment he got a message from some of his friends, saying, "We have built a barricade; we are going to fight against this King and his soldiers; come and join us." Marius rushed off. It would be a relief to him to fight savagely and die, he felt. It was that very barricade to which Gavroche went. The Captain and the other men there welcomed him gladly.

For some reason this is quite out of order and we are back in time to Gavroche being alive so that he can deliver Marius's letter and identify Javert. We keep getting told that Javert is very brave, such as for facing down Thenardier's gun or not crying when captured. Also Marius kills a soldier and saves Gavroche. Things happen as you would expect, John arrives with the fifth uniform, he secretly frees Javert, now it is time for the end of the battle:

All the men were killed at last but the Captain. He threw away his weapon and said, ‘‘Fire—shoot me!” He folded his arms. He was grand; any man is grand who dies for what he believes to be right. The soldiers made a line opposite him. The sergeant said, “Would you like to have your eyes bandaged?’ “No,” said the Captain. “Take aim,” said the Sergeant. Suddenly a man rose up; it was a friend of the Captain’s; he had actually been asleep in spite of all the noise and danger. He said, “Stop.” The soldiers lowered their guns. He said to the Captain, ‘May I die with you?”’ He stood up by his side. The soldiers aimed and fired. They both fell dead.

Then comes the escape through the sewers, about which the narrator/abridger says "of all the things that Old John did, I think the bravest and most wonderful was the way he carried Marius miles and miles through those drains and got him out safe." Thenardier lets John and Marius out of course.

Suddenly, right in front of him [John] saw—Javert! John did not know it, but this was really a trick of that brute Thenardier. For Javert had been chasing Thenardier, and had seen him go into the grating: and he sat and waited. Thenardier thought, “If I let this fellow go out, Javert did not see it was me who came in, and will not, look for me any more.”’ So he let John out.

Javert and John take Marius home. The narrator continues to encourage John, saying "Oh well done John, well done indeed!" Next is the chapter called "How John Conquered Javert At Last," which is this book's version of Javert Derailed. We are told:

"[Javert] walked on and on, thinking more deeply than he had ever thought in his life. At last he came to the river; and he leant on the railing, thinking. His thoughts were tossing in his mind like waves of the sea, just as John's had been when he had met the old Bishop. And it was the same kind of reason."

Javert is torn between the voices of two people in his head, the head of police and a mysterious person: God.

Javert seemed to see John wearing the ugly dress they wore in gaol, but with a halo round his dead. Javert hated to think it. He wished that John has killed him in the barricade, after all.

Throw in some antisemitism for good measure:

[Javert] could not help feeling that [to turn in John] would be like Pontius Pilate handing over Jesus to the Jews, and washing his hands and saying, "I have nothing to do with his fate."

Javert writes his letter containing "some things that he wanted to tell the head of the police" and goes back to the river.

"Well then, I must not live; I must die" [thought Javert.] And next minute, if you had been there, you would have seen Javert fall into the water. Old John had beaten him at last, not by being clever, but by being good.

That's not good! So Marius and Cosette get married but John leaves the party.

His brave heart seemed to break. He hid his face in Cosette's old clothes. If you had been there, you would have heard terrible sobs. John had defeated Javert, and harder still-- he had defeated every thought of self in his own heart.

Then Thenardier shows up with "one of his daughters." ("The other daughter was dead; poor girl, she was not so bad as the rest.") He tells Marius he wants to go to America to find a gold mine. He tells Marius about John's supposed crime ("Truly the ways of God are wonderful," comments the narrator) and Marius says he already knew about it (even though he never saw John tell Marius about his past.) Marius gives Thenardier the money to go to America "but [Thenardier] did not become a better man. He became one of those cruel men who buy and sell slaves. He is the only really wicked man in all these stories." Then the narrator says hey remember that daughter that I said was not as bad as all the rest? What happened to her? Then he jumps back in time and tells us how Eponine stopped the robbery at the Rue Plumet and died to save Marius. Then the narrator says btw let me tell you what happened to the momes :

I don't know what happened to the little fellows after [the episode with the bread in the garden.] They had to look after themselves, just like Gavroche. Perhaps they grew like him-- knowing a lot of bad things and bad people, but brave and willing and kind. Perhaps they got into prison like Old John; and if they did, perhaps like him they did not become bad, but met kind friends and turned out good true men. Poor little fellows!

Now time skips back and John decides to tell Marius about his past.

I am afraid that Marius was so horrified to know that John was from gaol that he wished him never to come near Cosette again.

Without Cosette, John becomes very sick. The doctor gives him a crucifix which keeps him alive for a while but he is about to die when Cosette and Marius come to ask his forgiveness.

John was gazing at Cosette. He was quite calm. Suddenly he arose, and seemed to be strong. He walked firmly to the wall, took down the little figure of the Saviour on the Cross, laid it on the table and said, "Behold the great Master." Then he sank back in the chair.

To the book's credit I guess they do include that John declined to see a priest.

With his last words he told them where he would like to be buried, and talked about Cosette when she was little, and told them to give money to help poor people. [. . .] He said that from the Invisible World he would watch them. Then as they knelt by him, each holding one of his hands, and choking with tears, he fell back dead, with the light from the old Bishop's candlesticks on the white old face turned up to heaven.

The End.

#les miserables #john the jack #other adaptations #lm in australia

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hihomeghere · 7 months

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Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage

Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed.

“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.

“Name?” The man asked with a smile.

“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.

“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.

“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.

“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast.

Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur.

“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.

“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below.

“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”

“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.

“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.

“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.

“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table.

“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.

“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.

“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face.

“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled.

“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.

“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.

“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him.

“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off.

The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead.

You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow.

Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile.

Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.

“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.

You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.

The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.

The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.

“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.

One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.

Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.

You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat.

“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up.

“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe.

“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”

“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.

Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants.

“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.

“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.

“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls.

“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.

“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly.

You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple.

“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.

“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt.

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”

“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.

“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“I’m gettin’ there.�� He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance.

Jesus Christ he was big.

He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock.

“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick.

“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours.

“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks.

“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again.

“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock.

“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered.

“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips.

He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off.

“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw.

“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest.

“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”