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Perfect Mistakes	By : RustyPeach Category: 1 through F > American Horror Story Views: 1415 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own American Horror Story, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Perfect Mistakes
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive, and many people demanding more of the first.
Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum
Perfect Mistakes

He thought he had his mind made up. He thought he knew he had the one. The one that would become his lover and mother to him and would let him know that there would be none other that could accept him for the damaged man that he had become.
He thought the journalist had enough caring and compassion to find out what made him tick. But once she discovered his true self and the motives behind the monster, she called him a sociopath and promised to tell everyone his long kept secret the moment she had the chance. He had spent so long trying to gain her trust and hopefully her acceptance, but as with all the other disappointing choices in women he’d made, she let him down too. And he was disgusted to find out that she had her own ulterior motives and was only it for one thing. As a result, he had no choice but to end it...
And her.
She had been a terribly careless mistake, a mistake that could have done him in. And it was one he would not make again. For a while, he pondered if this was a signal that it was time to put a stop to all of this evil and put the mask of skin away for good. Until he remembered her.
The Journalist’s secret lover.
Of course he had known all about her just before things with Lana turned sour, but she wasn’t of his interest at the time. Until now. Back at the Asylum, he had learned of her during their therapy sessions together that she was a devoted third grade teacher and apparently exhibited the many traits of a loving maternal instinct that he so desperately craved and he mentally kicked himself for not having seen it before.
He had been watching her from the shadows for weeks, following her to and from the elementary school to anywhere else she went. It didn’t matter, as long as he could be close to her, if only for a little while because something about her was… different… that he couldn’t seem to let go. And the more he watched her, the more he found himself drawn to the little teacher that was now forced to move on with her new life, alone. Would she be the one that would make the killing stop, make all of his lifelong torment go away? Or perhaps he should just do away with her too to rid himself of the troubling and haunting memories of his last failed attempt for peace.
Recently he had witnessed her beginning to pack away her clothes and stuff her favorite knick knacks away into brown boxes scattered throughout her house. He’d overheard her plans over the phone about moving out of their small, cozy house filled with the painful memories of what he knew she’d done to the love of her life and it was then that he knew he had to act quickly.
The time for him to decide had come and he needed to do it now before it was too late and she would be gone forever.
Oliver watched from the shadows of the thin, gnarly tree branches blowing in the wind above his head as he stood outside the open window that Wendy so carelessly left open. His thick fingers clutched to the signature mask of smooth skin balled in his left hand and the sharpened knife gripped tightly in the other as he watched her nude, lithe form climb delicately from the shower that she and Lana once shared. As if on cue, his mind began to run rampant of the many sensually lewd encounters that may have transpired between those two beautiful women in that single shower room and to his own recent lusty experiences with Lana Winters.
And thus, his decision was made.
He crept out from underneath the window pane and made his way to the entrance of their little home, his eyes taking in his surroundings as he approached the front door. After a moment’s hesitation, his finger pressed the glowing doorbell planted into the white wood of the door frame and heard the buzz chime through the walls inside. Soon the sound of rustling could be heard behind the door. The locks begin to twist and snap just before the door cautiously opens just a crack. Oliver’s eyes lowered to meet a pair of large brown ones peeking out at him and only then did he realize just how tiny she is behind that door. He can see her small face peering out through the opening she’s made. She glanced around him quickly and he could see in the small amount of moonlight that her face is red and stained with the streaks of drying tears as she continues to torture herself with the very thought that Lana was still locked away in an Asylum across town.
All alone.
With Bloody Face.
And she has no one to blame but herself.
Oliver could see the sadness, the heartbreak, and the guilt of what she’s done to the woman she would have given her life for and it was eating away at her very soul. And he can’t help but take pride in the knowledge that the little piece of paper tucked away in his coat breast pocket is the only hope for Wendy’s redemption. He holds back the smile that threatens to take over his face. She doesn’t know it yet, but that very same strive for salvation will also be her defeat.
“Are you Wendy Peyser?” he asks, feigning ignorance. His dark brown eyes watch her closely, but he is careful to keep his distance to avoid possibly scaring her off.
Her eyes glance from left to right to take in the surroundings behind him to make sure that he is alone and he mentally notes that her guard is up, as it should be.
“It’s late… Can I help you?” she asks, her voice hoarse and shaking.
“Miss Peyser, my name is Dr. Thredson. Oliver Thredson. I believe you knew Miss Winters?” he says, his head tilting to the side.
She suddenly swings the door wide at the mention of her lost love and rushes up to him, so easily having forgotten that he’s a stranger coming to her in the middle of the night.
So trusting.
“Where is Lana?” she asks, but then her brow creases with skepticism. “I’m sorry, but… How do you know her?”
And as if on cue, the sudden gush of air in her wake assaults his nose with the light clean scent of her freshly showered skin. She is wearing a collared blue robe that stops at her bare knees with two pockets at either side of her hip, all accompanied by a pair of small blue slippers. He stiffens, raising a thick elegant eyebrow at her close proximity and before he can stop himself, his eyes wander over her choice of bed time attire. Oliver catches his wandering gaze and brings his eyes back to where they should be, on hers.
“I am a psychiatrist at Briarcliff Manor. Miss Winter’s is – was one of my patients. She told me her story and from the moment I met her, I knew she didn’t belong there and if I didn’t do something, she would be trapped in that place forever.”
He sees the pang of guilt hit its intended mark within her chest and her expression softens just enough for him to quickly fashion a small reassuring smile. “I just couldn’t leave her there. So, I smuggled her out of that shit hole with me last night. She was staying at my home on the east side of town.”
Wendy’s soft brown eyes search his darker gaze hiding behind his rounded glasses in desperation to know if what he speaks is the truth and she asks, “But… why didn’t she come home?”
Finally Oliver reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out the folded little piece of carbon paper that Lana had once so desperately asked him to smuggle out to her secret lover.
He leaned closer and with a hint of gentle, reassurance in his voice he said, “Wendy, she told me of you and asked that I make sure you receive this message.”
He watched her slender fingers reach for it slowly, taking the offering from within his large hand and he couldn’t resist letting the pads of his fingertips glide quickly along the soft inside of her palm as it went.
Her chest began to rise and fall from the threat of unshed tears as she hurriedly unfolded the piece of paper and he swore he could feel the toll of what seemed like days worth of anxiety and guilt finally being lifted from her small shoulders. Wendy’s eyes scanned slowly over the note, reading the hastily written letters as though they would be the last words she would ever hear from Lana’s lips.
‘Hello my dearest love. It’s been so long since I last saw your face. With every day that passes, I am beginning to forget what I came here for, where I’m going, and even where I’ve been. But I don’t blame you, not anymore. And I just wanted to tell you… that I forgive you.’
And when Wendy looked back up into Oliver’s dark eyes, her own small face frowning with sadness and welling up with tears, he couldn’t stop himself from not only admiring but also longing desperately for the unconditional love these two women once shared. And in this moment is when he realized that he wouldn’t stop until he had stolen that very same love for himself.
“Why didn’t she come with you?” Wendy asked quickly, the buildup of water around the edges of her thin lashes finally spilling forth onto her blue robe and it takes all of his strength to not wipe the stray offensive water away with his thumb.
He crept closer to her and gave her a soft reassuring look, his voice quiet as he exhaled her name, “Miss Peyser…”
His face was somewhat shadowed by the moonlight above and still yet, Wendy clutched the piece of paper to her chest as she gazed up at him as though she were looking for all the world.
“I couldn’t risk bringing her with me in fear of us being seen together. A recently escaped mental patient parading through the streets with her psychiatrist would not end well for either of us.”
“But is she alright?” she asked.
He nodded and leaned forward to place his hand on her thin shoulder. “She is… But you must understand that Lana has already said her goodbyes. She has decided to move on.”
Wendy’s brown eyes grew large and distant like she has just been struck with an arrow to bleed out the spreading venom of her nagging guilt.
“Dr. Thredson, if you know where she is, you have to take me to her… Please! Just give me moment to change...”
His hand shot out to grab her arm and it startled her, but she didn’t pull away. "Under normal circumstances, it would be my pleasure for you to be reunited, Miss Peyser. But you must understand. Lana has made it very clear that she doesn’t wish to see you anymore.”
He watched her closely in his grasp as the shock of his words ran through her. Her eyes glazed over as though her mind had become completely vacant and dead inside like the faces he’d often seen at the Asylum when the high of too much medication ran free reign within their bloodstream. And for some reason, he, too, felt that same pang of guilt and shame that was wreaking havoc on her heart because in actuality, he was the one to blame.
Oliver moved closer to her, not releasing her arm and let his other heavy hand fall on her shoulder to regain her wandering attention. Having forgot he was still with her, she finally fought the unwavering grip of her trance and peered back up into his dark eyes.
After a moment, he leaned down next to her ear and said, “She left something for you, but it was too risky to bring here in the open. If you’re feeling up to it, I’ll gladly take you to my home to retrieve it.”
Before she could even think what he was asking completely through, she had disappeared anxiously back inside the house and Oliver just stood there, quiet and stoic as he watched her go, but inside his mind, he was feeling that long lost exhilaration like when he made his very first kill.
It isn't long until Wendy reemerged clad in a light brown summer dress with large green buttons down the front and a pair of soft brown flats.
She stepped outside curiously to find the man in the dark trench coat already at his car holding the blue passenger door open for her. She quickly bounded over to him and halted her approach for a moment in hesitation once she reached her destination. Oliver saw her small fingers gliding over the little piece of paper still held tightly in her grasp.
She looked down to the folded note and back to the tall man next to her and the empty leather car seat in front of her. Oliver watched Wendy silently, albeit anxiously and his dark thick brows furrowed for a moment when she hesitated to climb in. But the realization dawned on him and immediately he knew what she was thinking. Yes, he knew what the note said. Hell, he’d read it almost a thousand times after Lana’s death and knew all too well of the forbidden secret that they once shared.
He simply nodded his unspoken understanding to her and Wendy lowered her head as she slid into his car. They rode across town and he gave Wendy the ear she so desperately needed and she didn’t hesitate to pour out her sadness and rejection that bubbled from her life like vomit that she couldn’t stop even if she tried. And Oliver was listening but not listening, instead using it as the perfect opportunity to steal the tiniest of glances her way because it filled him with the reminiscent days of when he was a young boy vying for the attention of a young girl in his class that may not give him the time of day.
Eventually they reach his front door and Oliver silently slips his house key inside the heavy deadbolt, the shifting of the tumbler’s inside not moving quickly enough for him to get her inside. Wendy is close at his heels, so close in anticipation to see what her beloved Lana had left behind that he can feel her little fingers curling into the back of his trench coat and that one simple touch sends a cold shiver spiraling up his back. The door finally gives and they both step inside a cloud of darkness.
While he jangles his key free from the deadbolt, Wendy stayed behind him, a little leery as she peered around his side to take in her new surroundings before finally striding into his living room once he flipped the light switch on. Oliver’s dark eyes watched her quietly float past him, her feet barely a whisper over his wooden floors as her hand reached out to travel along the clay brick of his fireplace as she went.
Setting his briefcase down on the floor by his feet, he eased the front door closed and slid his key quietly back inside the front of double cylinder deadbolt, locking them both inside.
"You have a beautiful home, Dr. Thredson..." he heard Wendy say absentmindedly, her brown eyes scanning around as she took in the various earth tones accenting the modest yet masculine décor of his home.
“You surprise me Miss Peyser. I always thought of my attempts at decoration as rather futile.” He finally spoke up, walking in behind her and gesturing for the coach. “Please, have a seat.”
She did as instructed, wiping the randomly falling tears that still had yet to come to a stop. He disappeared before she’d even noticed he was gone and she looked at him curiously when he emerged with two glasses of white wine.
“I hope you don’t find this presumptuous of me, but… I thought you might need this.” he said with a small smile, his arm outstretched to her as he passed her the large glass from behind the couch.
To his surprise she smiled and took it from him thankfully and wasted no time in sipping from it. He came around the long brown couch and took a seat next to her. She felt his arm wrap around the back of the couch behind her head and she took another sip of her drink.
They conversed for a while and he’d told her of the many things Lana had told him of her, of course leaving some of the more gruesome details of her stay in Briarcliff and his basement out. After a while, the combination of his warm company and a chance to nurse her drink gave her the opportunity to regretfully relax and reminisce.
As she spoke, his fingers behind her head found the back collared of her dress flipped up beneath her auburn curls and slowly he tucked it down, his fingertips purposely brushing against the warmth of her sensitive skin. He saw her visibly shiver from the cool touch of his hand, but she did not flinch.
He could tell she was becoming light headed and she leaned her head back against the couch. Oliver scooted closer, his clothed thigh bumping against her bare one as he looked her over and he inwardly longed to remove the offending fabric that was keeping the feel of her skin from him.
“Miss Peyser? Are you feeling alright?”
She giggled lightly once she realized she’d been rambling about her feelings and wiped her cheek and fanned her reddening face.
“I’m sorry, I guess my secrets out, isn’t it? I’m not that much of a drinker. Lana and I hadn’t been able to enjoy ourselves very often before…” she paused, exhaling a soft shuddering breath, her arms curling around herself as though she had just become cold. “…Before they took her away. She was becoming increasingly busy at the Column. Not to mention my third graders at the school. They keep me going all day long! From teaching, chasing, laughing, and hugging to everything else in-between. But… I wouldn’t give them up for a minute.”
Wendy looked to Oliver wistfully as she thought of her kids, their tiny round faces flipping through her mind like an old scrapbook. Oliver smiled back, admiring her unabashed affection towards the children that weren’t even hers and he felt terrible at himself for also feeling a deep rooted jealousy all the same. He chuckled in response, his fingers entwining with hers momentarily as he took the wine glass from her and sat it down on the glass table in front of them.
“It’s quite alright. I think it’s I who should be apologizing. I sometimes forget that my preference for the taste of strong alcohol is much more than what others are used to.”
“You’re telling me… I hate to ask, but do you mind if I use your restroom?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Sure, it’s down the hall on the left.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Wendy smiled and moved to stand, but her unsteady legs failed to comply and she toppled backward against him.
His free hand shot out to catch her but he wasn’t fast enough and she almost stumbled as she fell backward into his lap. She let out a fit full of giggles against his chest and he couldn’t resist the smile as he looked down at her in his arms.
She finally looked up at him smiling and found him genuinely smiling down at her as well. He didn’t let go of her right away and his eyes roamed along the features of her face.
After a long moment, she finally scooted out of his lap and sat next to him again. She laid her head back against the sofa, Oliver’s living room ceiling beginning to spin slightly and she jumped at the cool touch of his palm on her bare thigh.
“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” he asked and removed his round glasses, sliding on the coffee table.
Her head rolled along the back of the couch until she was looking right at him and she smiled lightly at his comforting gesture, her eyes gently brimming with unshed tears. She leaned closer to him, their shoulders bumping as he took a sip of his drink.
“You know, you’re very handsome. Has anyone ever told you that Dr. Thredson?”
Swallowing his wine with a gulp, Oliver looked down to her next to him and feigned puzzlement at her statement.
“Miss Peyser, perhaps it’s not I that’s being presumptuous anymore.” he said with a small smile, his voice quiet but deep.
“Perhaps… or perhaps I need something to help me forget….” she said quietly, her face serious as her eyes lowered themselves to his lips.
Oliver’s gaze followed the similar path of hers and he found himself leaning in to take what her eyes had only hinted at. And to his surprise, she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer, closing the distance all her own until she had crushed him against her. Her lips were soft and warm as they moved gently against his, her tongue slipping passed his surprised lips. He tasted slightly smoky with a bit of the wine mingling on his soft tongue.
He felt his skin ignite at her gentle touch and found himself becoming lost in discovering the dark, wet cavern of her mouth. Before he knew it, her warm fingers had wriggled their way past the buttons of his dress shirt.
Wendy felt him climbing over her and she followed his lead by lying backward on the couch, collapsing beneath him under his weight. The muscled contours of his chest felt different and oddly wonderful beneath her fingertips. His mouth danced over hers and she let herself explore the flat planes hidden beneath his shirt, brushing her fingers over his hardening nipples and swallowing his deep moan of approval.
He was fighting to regain control and from the looks of it, he was losing.
Wendy was just so different from her. Lana, that stubborn, spirited bitch. Lana always held back whenever they were together, once she discovered his true self. Yes, he thought she was the one, but now he could never have been so wrong. Lana was too strong-willed, a fire that he couldn’t control. But not Wendy… Wendy was so docile and pliable, more susceptible to his advances.
Weak.
The way she was bending to the demands of his dormant male ego was like crafting with the purest of metals. All he needed to do was apply a bit of heat and he would be able to manipulate her into a wonder of things.
Oliver’s fingers found the hem of her dress and he quickly bunched it up passed her hips, revealing her soft pink underwear. His hand found the flat, bare skin of her stomach and he felt her muscles twitch and goosebumps begin to rise under his palm. At first his fingers were met with slightly tense and untrusting muscles, but soon they relaxed beneath his long, thick fingers. Wendy’s body was thin, but not fragile and her head eventually rolls backward, her eyes also closing as a gentle smile is spread across her face when his fingers dance up her ribcage.
Their breath is heavy and their eyes half lidded when Oliver regretfully pulls away from their tightened lip-lock. But he doesn’t stay absent long and he forcefully grabs the collar of her shirt, pulling it down roughly to expose the soft curve of her naked shoulders and breasts to his eyes.
Her breasts are small and proportionate to her little frame and Oliver can only gaze down at her pebbly nipples, taut and pink like the color of her tongue and he can’t resist being drawn to them as they mold perfectly in the curve of his palm. He grips them between his thick fingers, testing their softness and pliancy.
It’s been long enough since he last felt the moist intimate warmth of a woman and it takes all of his will to resist burying himself within the hot, slick confines between her legs. He loses himself in watching the many expressions flowing across her face like clouds flowing across the sky. Her face is soft yet strong and for some reason, he admires the fact that she doesn’t wear any makeup. Unlike Lana, or most of the women he’s captured in his time, Wendy’s natural appearance seemed so much more appealing because he knows he’ll always see the real her, not some dolled up imitation of her.
Her head lolls against the couch cushion as he plucks and rolls her nipples between each one of his fingers, alternating between the borderline of gentle to near painful to see which she likes best. But he is delighted to see there is no true preference and an immediate craving to see them one day swollen with milk consumes his thoughts and further drives his ambition. His head dips and he envelops one of the pert pebbles between his bow shaped lips, feeling her stiffen and tremble delightfully in his clutches as his tongue swirls over the sensitive peak. Her arms wrap around his neck, her fingernails dragging through the short dark hair at the back of his head and all at once he is enveloped in the intoxicatingly clean scent of her skin. The living room becomes filled with the soft sucking sounds of Oliver’s mouth against her skin when Wendy suddenly stutters, "D-Dr. Thredson...."
He is unresponsive and Wendy calls his name again a little louder, this time pressing a hand to his partially exposed chest to push him back as she struggles to slop up the parts of her brain that have turned to muck.
"Oliver." he firmly corrects, finally coming up for air and looking into her confused brown eyes. She frantically searches his own half lidded gaze above her while her mind tries to form a coherent sentence.
“Dr. Thredson is much too formal for the situation we’ve found ourselves in, wouldn’t you think… Wendy?” he adds, quirking an eyebrow upward with a handsome smirk.
She says nothing and Oliver’s dark gaze trails from her shocked yet anxious expression to the softness of her lips and subconsciously he licks his own in remembrance of the taste of her on them. Her naked chest is heaving as her lungs rape the air for oxygen and he found her flustered appearance as one he would prefer to see her wear more often after this. Oliver was intent on stealing this stunning young woman right out from beneath Lana’s cold dead grasp.
Abandoning her breasts temporarily, he leaned back up to capture her lips once more, his half lidded eyes watching her own begin to close the more he reeled her in.
Hurriedly she rose up; shockingly aware of what was undoubtedly about to transpire between them as though she had been somewhere else the entire time.
“Wait… stop, stop! This isn’t right. We can’t.”
“We shouldn’t… or you don’t want to?” he whispered questioningly, his lips and warm breath brushing against hers.
Wendy’s mouth opened, but nothing came out and she looked away, her mind pondering all of the scandalous possibilities of them sleeping together.
“Just… just give me a minute…” she said breathlessly.
Her mind raced with the thoughts of what would happen if any of her friends saw them together, their accusing eyes roaming over her screaming betrayal. And at the same, she thought about how it was Lana’s choice to decide to move on. And for the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to be free of the need to hide her affections in public that she always had to give under the cover of darkness or behind the closed blinds.
But was it worth it? Even if only to momentarily forget?
She stared at him with wild doe eyes, ready to dash at the first hint of danger. She had become frightened and was beginning to panic and Oliver found it, dare he say... cute. He already knew that despite her best efforts of escape, she was going to fall to him and his heart rate sped up as he moved in again to claim her.
Sitting up he grabbed her thin wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, straddling her waist to pin her beneath him between his knees. Wendy wriggled like a mouse pinned beneath a cat’s paw in hopes to gain freedom, but he was too heavy, much too heavy. Her alcohol induced confusion and pathetic attempts at a struggle were thrilling him beyond all comprehension. But he expected a little resistance. No great change came without it.
If only Lana knew that Wendy, too, was locked away.
All alone.
With Bloody Face.
Oliver felt himself smile inwardly as he looked down at her, drinking in her naked skin. The loud rumbling sound of her rolling in her grave would undoubtedly last him a lifetime.
Desperately he wanted to slip his hand under her pink panties and slide a finger or two inside her just to see how snug she was. She made a small sound of frustration and Oliver looked down at her. He could see the uncertainty wrinkling her brow and he decidedly let her go and reached down, his face calm and content and ran his thumb along the thin ridges to smooth her troubles away.
Her face was a mask of utter bewilderment and in this moment she was fighting to maintain what little control she thinks she still possesses and in this moment, she reminds him of Lana. Fighting, fighting, always fighting….
Wendy felt his cool palms slowly release one of her wrists, only to feel a stray hand slide the thin elastic of her underwear aside and a thick finger run along her wet folds. She sat up, her eyes suddenly freed from the dark clouds that had been overshadowing them and her fingers pulled roughly at his shirt until she’d pried it open and heard two buttons pop off to dance along the wooden floor somewhere in the distance like plastic pennies. Thrilled that she’d decided to surrender, Oliver helped the rest of the way and pulled the white dress shirt off, his undershirt coming over his head and following the other garment to the floor.
Wendy eyes traveled along the dark thin trail of hair leading from his chest and down the center of his stomach to disappear into the waistband of his black slacks. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she struggled with whether or not she should go chasing after it.
Oliver does nothing as he kneels on the couch next to her, his dark solemn gaze trailing over her supple pink skin still exposed to him and he is delighted in seeing that she has done nothing to cover herself as her little fingers reach his silver belt buckle, pulling the thick leather loose.
Trading places, she rises from the sofa and he sits down, leaning back to watch her settle between his long legs and finish undoing his slacks. Oliver gazes down at her and watches entranced when her hand runs up his thigh and over the erection that had tented the front of his pants. He hisses between his teeth, his head falling back of its own accord when her short nails rake along the sensitive skin of his hips when she began to tug down the expensive fabric of his black slacks and the white band of his underwear. He slumped further down into the brown sofa, his slim hips twisting as she finally pulls them all the way down to find just what she’s been hunting for beneath his cloth.
Oliver felt cool air rush over his skin as his stiffened member was freed from the dark restricting hiding place under the cloth and exposed to her soft brown eyes. Wendy sighed and he could feel her warm breath ghost over his delicate skin. She was so close….
And then Wendy was touching him. Her shaky, delicate little digits comb through the straight, black strands of hair at the base of his hardened shaft and further up his flat belly to rake through the equally dark hair at his chest. The boldness of her touch causes him to shiver, his own skin breaking out into little goosebumps from his scalp down to his very toes. He is unable to tear his eyes from her and decides to let her curiosity explore wherever on his body that her fingers dare to take her. Once again, he finds himself surprised that she leaves no plane uncharted. Her index finger dips into his navel just before her focus returns to the thickened length standing proudly from the dark nest of hair at his groin.
She raised a delicate eyebrow at him as she gazed upon it and he whispered, “For you.”
Wendy’s hand grasped him at the base, her grip warm and snug. Her eyes darted from his possessive gaze and back to the painfully throbbing erection so nerve wrenchingly close to that little mouth of hers and back again. Oliver waited albeit impatiently until he finally saw that delicious little pink muscle sneak passed her soft lips and touch his swollen tip. Unconsciously, he gasped and his fingers wound into her auburn hair to nudge her closer, but he doesn’t have to wait long when her tongue finds him again, this time in a long wet swipe from tip to base then finally taking him fully into her mouth in a move that all but tears a low cry from his throat. Each flicking and swirling sensation of her rough yet smooth tongue dragging along the tightened skin of his shaft drew a small whimper.
Wendy sucked at him slowly, her motions almost timid and unsure at first, but eventually she found her rhythm like one finds their calling, drawing nearly his entire length into her mouth on her way down and sucking hard at the head on her way up.
Oliver’s large hands cupped her flushed cheeks as she moved, his thumbs smoothing along the soft skin. His dark brows furrowed and his gaze was intense as he watched her, his deep voice husky and laced with lust as he told her to go fast, not so fast, harder but not too hard.
If she kept following his incoherent of orders, he was going to come. Wendy’s tongue swirled around the tip, tasting the salty moisture that was gathering there and he exhaled heavily, his head pushing back into the sofa cushion, his eyes rolling behind his eyelids.
“Ah! Wend-… Shit…” he babbled behind clenched teeth, his hips thrusting to meet her lips. He felt her hands rest on his thighs and glide up his skin, farther and farther still and he couldn’t figure out which sensation to focus on first until he felt her feathery light fingertips circle his nipples and he immediately fall apart at the seams.
Wendy heard Oliver grunt and she looked up as his breath quickened, his naked stomach rising and falling and his eyes scrunched tight as though he were in the most glorious of pains. The sensation of him twitching and swelling between her lips became apparent and her eyes grew wide when she felt a hot gush of liquid shoot into her mouth and down her throat. She quickly moved to pull away, but Oliver grabbed her by the back of the neck, holding her there while he used his free hand to pump his length slowly, drawing his own orgasm out along with the last remnants of his seed down her throat before he could coherently let her go.
Finally Wendy fell back on her arm, swallowing and gasping for air and Oliver slowly went after her, laying over her on the floor and burying his face into her naked chest as his lungs worked to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry, I got a little carried away it would seem. No one’s ever done that to me before…” he admitted and wondered idly if she could feel his face burning against her skin.
Wendy looked down at the top of his dark head of hair, shaking lightly in his hold, not actually surprised by the action, but more the lack of warning.
“It’s alright… Just tell me next time?” she smiled lightly and he looked up at her, his chest brimming with the thought that she would be willing to do it again.
He nodded and sat up slightly, realizing that she was actually still partially clothed, though in disarray. He quickly undid the remaining buttons of her summer dress and slid her damp panties off her slender legs. Her pinched knees fell lax, welcoming him back to her and he gratefully accepted the gift that had been offered. Oliver resumed his place, resting his full weight between them as his mouth found her breasts once more and he couldn’t help reveling in the feel of her moist center pressing against his belly.
He feels her fingers dance along his shoulders and he hears her gasp when the tip of his tongue swirled over one of her nipples and he realizes the sounds she makes are one’s he just can’t do without. Her arms droop down his back, her thighs rising to squeeze him between them. They brush along his ribs and the soft heel of her foot slides down his spine to press into the crevice of his bare buttocks. Two long fingers find her wet entrance once more and Wendy’s hips dance beneath him the moment one of them slips inside.
His fingers are thicker than her own and she sighs as they delve and stretch her in the sweetest scissor shape motions along her walls.
Oliver shifts, pulling himself free of her entangling limbs.
“What’s wrong?“ she says breathily, looking up at him puzzled. She made a move to sit up and close her legs in wonder as to whether he changed his mind, but he shook his head at her and before she knew what was happening, his hands found the backs of her knees, lifting them to topple her backward and double her up by pressing them against her shoulders.
The sight of her bright pink folds, swollen and open to him like a flower, wet after a spring rain is enough to drive him crazy. He knelt down and Wendy could only watch in anticipation as those same torturous bow shaped lips part to encase her sensitive little bundle of nerves between them in a vulgar kiss. Wendy’s fingernails claw at the cold wooden floor beneath her as the warm, wetness of his mouth and tongue sucking at her causing her hips to wriggle in a half hearted attempt to escape.
“God… Oli…ver!” she cried, stretching his name out as her hips twisted against his unrelenting assault.
Her scent is heady, intoxicating and it floods his brain as he set to work at her delicate bud. One of her hands found his hair, tugging at the short dark strands. He could feel her trembling, then relaxing as small waves of pleasure washed through her body. Oliver’s dark eyes peered up at her taut stomach and through the small valley between her breasts. Her head was thrown back, her chocolate curls undone as they splayed out at either side of her head. He watched as she squirmed and thrashed beneath him. The sense of delicious power that he held over her was gratifying and it wasn’t long before he felt her muscles clench against his mouth in impending release.
When Oliver’s tongue flattened and ran completely up the length of her sensitive folds, Wendy could only mewl and croon as wave after wave of heat washed through her belly, building and twisting, tightening and wringing her walls in search of release.
But as with all good things that must come to pass, the wet heat of Oliver’s mouth eventually disappeared, leaving her bereft and unfulfilled. He let her knees go and immediately Wendy sat up on her elbows, confused and disappointed.
“Don’t go yet. Just a bit more…” she panted, the wondrous sensations swimming through the torrent of alcohol running through her veins. “I’m almost there.”
“Who said I was going anywhere?” he said darkly and for the first time, the way his thick eyebrows lowered and the firm set of his lips made him seem suddenly very intimidating.
He stood all the way up before her, tall and as naked as the day he was born and sat on the couch behind him. He motioned for her to come to him which she did after a moment and stood in front of him almost cautiously, her arms coming up over her breasts as though she didn’t know where else to put them. Her eyes wandered lazily over his skin and when she didn’t move, her grabbed her by her upper arms, pulling her down to straddle his lap.
Wendy’s stumbled forward, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as his large hands gripped her naked bottom, pulling her closer until her rear rested atop his thighs.
She shuddered involuntarily when his stiff, erect member bumped against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. It is unfamiliar and alien to her, yet completely natural and he knew she would get used to it with time. He wasted no time and lifted her up just enough to slowly lower her onto the tip of his erection, but no further and to her surprise, he didn’t move. She looked down to where they were partially joined and back up into his dark eyes, questioning. He raised a thick eyebrow at her and suddenly she knew that no words necessary. He wanted her to be as much a part of this as he was. She had been hesitant several times tonight. So if she truly wanted it, she would have to be the one to seal the deal.
He held Wendy’s gaze, his fingers massaging the soft curves of her hips and bottom, pinching the skin gently as she silently contemplated his offering. But he didn’t need to wait long when he felt her slowly, deliberately force herself down onto him, her hips wriggling as she took him inside her inch by glorious inch. His eyes widened with shock then fluttered shut, his lips parting in a low moan as she contracted him around him, squeezing him tight. Wendy let out a small whimper and her arms shot out to wrap tightly around his neck as she buried her face against his chest.
She felt his hands run along her naked back as he waited until she’d adjusted to him and even then it still took all of his will to not just drive into her with agonizing abandon. Just when he thought he couldn’t bear being buried so still inside her, he felt her hips experimentally begin to rock. When he opened his eyes, her head had fallen forward, her hair blocking her face from his sight as though she were embarrassed or ashamed.
Oliver heard her gasp as she moved slowly and he felt her small hands flattening against his chest as if there was a small brand inside her warm palm. Her thighs tightened against his and through half lidded eyes, he saw her hips rise just high enough to see his length disappear inside her.
“Stop holding back. No one knows you’re here….” he said in a firm tone.
After a moment, Wendy nodded and her hips increased the rhythm of their rocking and her back arched, her eyes closing and her head falling back as Oliver’s own hips began to rise to meet her descent. Her walls clamped around him in delight of being filled so deep and completely. It was almost too much. She thought she might die from the pleasure of it.
His mind was sent into a frenzy among the whorl of passion shredding away at his composure bit by bit. She shuddered and he looked up, his eyes lustily raking over her skin, entranced in his victim turned lover. A deep throaty moan escaped his lips and Wendy’s gaze met the hungry need in his. She smirked at him, holding his gaze and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck for leverage as she continued to ride him a little slower and gentler then faster and more deliberate.
Then out of nowhere, it felt like he was everywhere at once. She was already extremely aroused and his fingers were driving her wild. Somewhere amongst the midst of it all, she felt the wet heat of his mouth find her breasts and she squeaked, his hands seeking out her hips in a grip that would surely leave bruises. They hurt and she unconsciously pulled at his fingers for a moment, trying to pry them loose, but he refused. A building heat sensation similar to molten rock pooled between her hips as Oliver’s breath grew ragged, his large hands impatiently reaching out to aid her in her rise and decent over his lap.
“Mmph!“ she mumbled out from the maddening combination of pain and pleasure as he bucked and drove upward into her, the sound of his voice calling out to her somewhere in the dense fog filling her thoughts and threw herself completely into it.
Oliver felt that same fog of pure sin wash over him, his hips rolling and twisting beneath her and he swore under his breath. He feels her thumbs caress the sides of his face and the soft skin behind his ears and a familiar surge of heat boils up from deep in his stomach. His impending release screams at him to be set free and he tries to pry her off before it’s too late, but he feels her clasp tightly around his length, her thighs gripping him tighter and it nearly blinds him, his release sending him off into the enveloping fog coiling within his groin.
It was too late to ponder over the consequences of what he’d just done. She couldn’t stop herself even if she tried, it was just too sweet. Wendy heard him let out a deep throaty moan and she shoved him inside her as far as he would go, her legs buckling each time he hit that joyous spot hidden deep inside, her face pressing into his neck as she also took that eager leap into that very same sensuous fog that had just taken the man beneath her away.
Oliver felt his breath snatched from his lungs, his groan strangled as he saw Wendy arch backward, her hands tightening into little fists in front of her, his hands at her waist the only thing holding her up as her own climax shuddered and clamped around him like a hot wet vice.
“Ah! That’s it….” he finally whispered in encouragement, his hands pulling at her wrists to bring her back to him.
Oliver could only stare as Wendy’s eyes came back to meet his and his brows furrowed to find them glassy and wet and he idly wondering if she was reverting. But to his surprise, she simply gave him a small smile and leaned against his chest and her lashes fluttered closed against his skin.

======

A slender arm slid out from beneath the mass of dark brown blankets covering the bed, Wendy’s face emerging with it as her squinted eyes looked around the dimly lit bedroom that was so strikingly different from her own. Slowly she pulled herself up to a sitting position and immediately regretted it as the beginning of a headache from her slight hangover made itself known.
She groaned quietly and brushed her disarray of auburn curls out of her eyes to better make sense of her unfamiliar surroundings. Her eyes lazily wandered from her side of the room to the left, her mind scrambling to piece together the scattered puzzle of her memories from the prior night and they immediately bulged when they met the large lump stretched out next to her.
She gasped softly in realization of where she was and what she had done and became filled with a mixture of soothing completion and a little regret. Oliver was lying next to her on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his face while sleeping so heavily that the floor could practically cave in underneath them and he wouldn’t even stir. His handsome face was turned in her direction, his short hair astray. He seemed so peaceful and subdued and she took a moment to really look at him. The dark color of his hair accompanied by his strong dark eyebrows made for a wonderful contrast against his almost pale skin. Her eyes traveled down his naked back and the smooth curve of his buttocks peeking shyly out from the tangle of sheets wrapped around his legs.
As though suddenly aware of her nakedness, she quickly pulled the sheets up to cover herself as if he were watching her, despite the fact that he obviously may as well have been a million miles away.
She looked back up at his face and then past him to the clock sitting on the nightstand.
"Oh no... Oh my god… Dr. Thredson, wake up…” she said hurriedly, shaking his shoulder next to him. He didn’t stir right away so she shook him again a little harder this time. “Dr. Thredson?”
No response.
“Oliver!”
Finally Oliver’s dark brown eyes slid open the tiniest bits and his eyebrows furrowed at the sound of her panicked voice speaking too quickly for his still sleeping brain. “Wake up! I’m late for my class!”
He slowly raised his head up and turned to the nightstand on his side of the bed, grabbing the small round clock and rubbing his eyes to try and make out the time ticking away quietly inside it.
9:32am
“Good morning to you too.” he drawled, setting it back down.
Oliver felt the bed shake as she quickly scooted to the edge of the bed, dragging his sheets and blankets with her.
“I’m sorry! I just… We need to go.” She said, clutching the sheets as she scanned his bedroom floor for her clothes.
Oliver snuck up behind her, stealthily pulling the covers away from her like a monster from the closet. His warm hands pulled her naked body tightly back against his chest and he rested his head against hers. And the memories she had been trying to recall in the past 5 minutes came washing through her from his touch and Wendy smiled softly for a moment then pulled herself free. He let her go, watching her naked back as she went and he reached behind him to grab his cigarettes and silver lighter, lighting one between his lips. She placed a foot on the floor and stopped, turning to him curiously.
“Wait a minute. I just remembered something. Last night… Didn’t you say Lana left something for me?”
Oliver looked at her, his expression changing from complacent to hard and somewhat cold. She watched him crawl out of bed and walk to the edge where she sat. Leaning down on one knee next to her, he placed his cigarette between his lips and she felt her face flush hot at his apparent nakedness.
“Close your eyes.” he said in a calm, quiet tone, not bothering to look at her as he spoke.
She did as she was told and quickly covered them with one hand.
He reached down under the edge of the bed and her little fingers gripped the edge of the mattress in anticipation of what Lana wanted her to have. Part of her didn’t even care what it was, as long as it was from her.
After a moment of fidgeting, she suddenly felt something cold and hard snap around her ankle with a loud clink. Wendy immediately looked down, her smile falling flat at the thick piece of metal around her ankle. Her soft brown eyes went wide and darted back to his dark gaze.
“What is this? I-I don’t understand… I have to go home…” she said, confused and wondering if this was some of game. Her brows knit together as she looked down to search his face for an answer. Her leg tugged at the heavy metal chain and found herself horrified to see there was no give to it.
Oliver took a drag of his cigarette and looked up at her, exhaling a thick billow of beautiful white smoke.
“That’s just it, Wendy. You are home.”

====To be continued…====
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Perfect Mistakes