Should I still be writing this? It’s FEBRUARY, FFS.
But I promised.
And we finally got to the sex!
Chapter Eight – Jenny
Jake was just yummy. He had broad, well-defined shoulders, muscled pecs covered with curly hair that narrowed toward his waist, like it was pointing the way to his cock. And his cock – she almost moaned at the sight of it.
She loved cock – hell, she loved pussy, too – but Jake’s cock nearly made her mouth water. He was thick, not too long, curved just a tiny bit, and already hard for her.
“Turn around,” she said, and he obeyed her, turning slowly, perfectly, and fuck if he didn’t look just as good from behind as he did from the front. She wished she’d brought her strap-on with her. She’d love to bend him over and fuck that beautiful ass. She’d love to hear him beg, love to watch him surrender to the shame and the pleasure.
“Come here.” She pointed.
He took a step closer, thighs pressed against the outer wall of the hot tub, and she leaned close to him, her bra teasingly brushing against the hair on his chest.
“You are a delicious piece of meat, Jake Connors, and I would very much like to fuck you.”
“Oh, fuck.” His eyes fluttered closed, and Jenny picked up her glass of whiskey. She wetted her finger in it, traced it over his lips, then leaned forward, her tongue following the path her finger had just taken. She did it again, this time sucking on his lower lip gently, then darting her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, tasting whiskey. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her out of the water and pressing her to his chest. She stepped over the edge and wrapped her legs around him, rubbing against his hard cock as they kissed and sucked and rocked against each other.
She pulled away from him long enough to whisper “Bed,” and held on to the whiskey as he held on to her, carrying her, dripping, up the stairs and to his bedroom.
He set her down on the bed and knelt in front of her, tugging at her underwear.
“Stop,” she said, pushing his hand away.
“Sorry. I thought — I’m sorry.”
“Shh. Jake,” she set the whiskey on the nightstand and placed her hand on his cheek. “Do you like to be dominated, Jake?”
He squeezed his eyes closed. “Yes, ma’…” he stopped himself from uttering the honorific, blushing beautifully.
It seemed too good to be true — that the handsome, kind man that she’d been attracted to since the moment he shook her hand could also be submissive. She smiled, brushed a finger over his lips, and kissed him. She could tell how much he wanted to kiss her back, loved how he tried to master himself.
“You may address me as Sir.” She’d always hated “ma’am” and “Mistress”. She liked the crisp authoritativeness of “Sir”, but some hetero men had issues with it.
“Yes, Sir,” Jake said, and a thrill went through her. She wanted to tease him until his cock was harder than he’d known it was possible to get, to whip him until he was sobbing, to push him to the edge of every limit he’d ever known. But she needed to slow the fuck down. They hadn’t discussed any of this, and she knew the surest way to destroy trust was to move too fast.
She gently raked her fingers down his chest. Smooth skin. Hard muscle. Wiry hair.
He stood in front of her, gorgeous, hard, willing. She grasped his cock and he groaned. She stroked him gently, getting to know him, loving the hot hardness of him. She skimmed her thumb delicately over the tip of his cock, feeling the slick pre-cum there, and cupped his balls with her other hand. She stroked him faster, watching his face twist with pleasure as he trembled under her touch.
“Please, Sir. I can’t,” he gasped, and she slowed, her hand loose around his cock now. She reached for a piece of ice and used it to circle his nipples delicately, watching the water run down his chest in little rivulets, watching his nipples pucker, skimming it over the hard nubs until it melted away. She took another piece, holding it a few inches above his cock, watching as drops of water gathered at the ends of her fingers to splash down on his cock. He grunted and shuddered.
Jenny put the last bit of ice into her mouth and knelt, swirling her cold wet tongue over the tip of Jake’s cock. He was whimpering, his fingers digging into the sides of his legs as he struggled to remain still. She continued sucking him, her eyes up on his face, her tongue tracing the underside of his cock, swirling over the tip, then taking him deeper. She’d known Dommes who didn’t do blow jobs, but to her, there was nothing more vulnerable than a man with his cock in your mouth. She pursed her lips to slip off the tip and he shuddered. Fuck, he was lovely.
“Do you have condoms somewhere?” she whispered.
“Yes, Sir. In the bathroom. Under the sink.” He started to move, but she stopped him.
“I’ll get them. Are you familiar with edging?”
He didn’t say anything, just groaned, making her laugh.
“Good. This is what’s going to happen,” she said in a low voice. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and you’re going to edge until I get back. You can remain standing, or lie on the bed, but you’re going to count, aloud, each time you have to stop. Do you understand?”
Jake took a deep breath. “Yes, ma’ — Sir.”
“Good. Start now.”
She watched as his fingers folded around his cock, then went into the large en-suite bathroom. She took a quick shower to rinse the chlorine off and then rummaged around under the sink until she found the box of condoms. She checked the expiration date to make sure they were still good and then went back into the bedroom.
Jake was lying on the bed, his eyes closed, a sheen of sweat covering his body as he stroked his cock. Her mind raced with all of the ways she wanted to tease and torture him, but she also knew that her body didn’t have the stamina it used to, so she’d have to get creative. Making him edge was just the start.
“How many is that, Jake?”
“Five,” he grunted.
“Do you know how good you look right now? Groaning, covered in sweat, your cock throbbing?” He gasped and stopped his hand, but his hips thrust at the air.
She laughed gently. “Very nice. Continue.”
She went to his closet. He’d grown up here and there were still odds and ends around that he’d never gotten rid of. She found a worn weather belt that looked too small for him – probably left from when he was a teenager – and then opened her toiletries kit and found a couple of bobby pins.
“Six!” Jake gasped. He was breathing heavily, and she admired the rise and fall of his chest, his cock bobbing obscenely above his stomach.
“Darling boy,” she said. “I’d like to roll you over and beat your ass with this nice leather belt. How does that sound?”
“I need more than that.”
“Yes, please. Whatever you want.”
An excellent start. “What I really want is to bend you over and fuck your gorgeous ass, but unless you have a strap on hidden somewhere, that’s not going to happen, so we’ll just have to make do.” As she said it, his cock jerked and the tip glistened. Oh, he was delightful. “What’s your safeword, Jake?”
“Um…” his hands clenched the bedspread underneath him.
“Jake,” she said sharply. “Take your cock in your hand and tell me your safeword.”
He started stroking himself again. “V-Victoria.”
Unexpected. She wanted to ask who Victoria was but now was not the time. She pinched his nipple with her fingers until it was pert and then opened the Bobby pin and let it close on his nipple. He groaned and his hips pulsed. He sucked air and stopped stroking.
“Keep touching yourself, Jake, or you’re not going to come tonight.”
She twisted his other nipple and slipped the other hairpin over it.. His head tilted back and he groaned, but he kept touching himself.
“Good boy,” she whispered. She knelt up on the bed and gently stroked the side of his face.
Then she straddled him, her legs stretching almost painfully across his wide chest. His eyes were riveted to her, his mouth open, and she offered him her breast and pressed her cunt against him, moving her hips in little circles. She felt him groan against her breast and she laughed, then pulled back and offered him her other. He treated it with the same reverence, delicately nibbling and sucking.
“Please,” he whispered against her chest. “Let me taste you.”
Fuck. She’d been about to sit on his face, but now she wanted to tease him, to draw it out longer. So instead, she slapped him. Not hard, but enough. She held her breath a little. It was always dangerous to play without discussing things first, and she would backtrack so fast if she made one wrong move. But he shouted and jerked, his hips straining with the need to pump.
He was on the edge, and she was going to drive him over it.