13. Jenny
My stomach does a somersault, and excited energy builds inside me. He’s starting the role-playing with me. My previous partners always hated my wicked imagination. They thought my desire to act scenes out was a threat to their manhood, as if I was telling them they weren’t enough to satisfy me without it. Truth be told, they weren’t, but that’s not the point.
“You’ve been gone for a whole week on that business trip. What was I supposed to do? You know I can’t sleep unless I have a full load inside me.”
“I should punish you and shoot down the toilet.”
“No! Please. He couldn’t even get me off, and he didn’t fill me the way you do.”
“Maybe I need to remind you how a real man feels then.”
“Yes,” I gasp out. “Remind me until I can’t think about anyone but you.”
In one forceful thrust, he buries himself inside me. It burns a little because he’s so much bigger than the dildo, and I let out a small whimper. He freezes, and his energy changes to concern. Fuck that because the little twinge of pain will only remind me how thoroughly I was claimed tomorrow. I push my ass into his hips, encouraging him to move. He blows out a relieved breath and pulls almost all the way out before slowly thrusting inside.
This won’t do. I need passion. I need friction. I need more . Taking matters into my own hands, I fuck him, rocking back and forth. It doesn’t take him long to get on board and give me what I need. His hips rotate with each solid forward thrust, hitting the little hot button inside me that’s sure to bring me to pleasure. I mewl, not making any sense but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He smacks my other ass cheek, stealing my attention. “Did he feel as good as I do, Baby?”
We’re back to playing the game. I push my smile away and get into character. “No. God, no.”
“Do you like having his cum inside you while I fuck you?”
I don’t answer, wondering just how far I can take this before he really gets offended. Based on past experience, I’m a little gun-shy going all the way with this pretend play. When he smacks my ass harder this time, I know he’s expecting an answer. Remembering that I promised myself I wouldn’t dim my light for anyone ever again, I decide this would be a good test to see if we’re compatible.
“Fuck. Yes. Okay. I love it. It turns me on so much I can’t think straight.” I’m glad he can’t see my smirk.
“What a good little cum slut you are,” he says, rubbing away the sting. “That’s what you are, right?”
“Yes.”
“Say it. Say, ‘I’m your good little cum slut.’”
My pussy clamps down involuntarily, and the rush of arousal that follows makes this little bumpin’ uglies session sound obscene. Not ever having been able to explore degradation, I’m surprised by just how much this turns me on. “I’m your good little cum slut.”
“Louder.” He fucks me harder, reaching places inside I’m positive no other man has ever touched.
“I’m your good little cum slut!” I scream as another orgasm hits me. “Oh god.”
“Come for me. Give me that sugar, Baby.”
He drags some of our mixed fluids up to my asshole and pushes his thumb inside, just to the first knuckle, to give me something else to grip onto. It prolongs an already lengthy orgasm, and by the time the final shudders flow through me, my thighs are shaking, and my head is too heavy. I rest my forehead on the mattress as I pant.
“Fuck, I love you,” he says, pushing in and holding himself deep inside. “I’m showing my swimmers their target.”
“Words. None. Dead,” I babble.
“Don’t give up on me yet. My little cum slut needs her second load.”
This perks me up a bit, and I peer over my shoulder. “I love you, too.”
Hearing those words spurs him on more than any game we’ve played. He pistons his hips, the orgasm he’s been valiantly withholding hitting him fast and hard, but somehow, he tamps it down for just a minute longer, seeming to relish in our act of union.
He pushes his thumb in just a little further while I fantasize about how amazing it would feel for him to fuck me in my ass with the toy. Or maybe he could fuck my ass and put the toy in my pussy. Maybe they can take turns. My little bean tingles, trying so hard to get back in the game, but then he grips my hips so hard there’ll no doubt be bruises and gives me one final thrust, burying himself as deep as he can get. I feel a little twinge, and I wonder if he hit my cervix.
His cock pulsates inside me, and every thought vanishes from my head except picturing how his thick, veiny, throbbing joystick is painting my insides with his semen. God, I wish I could see what that looks like. His fat mushroom head purple from all the blood rushing south and that pinprick hole spurting like a fountain. I store that imagery away for later when my body doesn’t feel like a sack of mush.
“You feel so fucking good. Nothing has ever felt better,” he grits out, and I give him that kung fu grip, rewarding his effort.
He releases my hips, and although I’m exhausted, I get the urge to go look in the mirror. I’ve never been marked before, each boyfriend telling me that’s behavior for a teenager, but I don’t accept their shame anymore. I’m packing it up and shipping it back to them because now I know how a real man makes you feel.
He folds over me, fondling my fun bags and testing their weight. “I know these tits probably give you all kinds of back problems, but I love every ounce of them. If I promise to massage you every night, will you promise never to get a reduction?”
I giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m being so fucking for real right now.” He places biting kisses on my bare shoulder and I’m struck by so much unexpected emotion.
“Eaton?” I ask.
“Yeah, Baby Cakes?”
“No one has ever made me feel as special as you.”
“I’m so fucking sorry about that. It hurts me to think anyone mistreated someone so precious.” He pulls out gently. “Lie down with me.”
He lies back onto the pillows, and I snuggle into his side, weaving my fingers through his chest hair. We’re sweaty and messy and smell like sex, but I don’t care. I want to relish in this moment for as long as possible, which turns out to be not that long at all.
Our post-coital cuddle is interrupted by my cell ringing downstairs. I make no effort to move. I feel too good and although I have no idea who’s calling this late, my instincts tell me whoever it is will ruin this moment, and that’s the last thing I want right now. Eventually it quiets, only to almost immediately start ringing again.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No. Whoever it is can fuck right off. It feels too good being in your arms.”
He kisses my forehead as the phone quiets again. “I’m glad.” Seconds later, the ringing sounds again. “Are you sure? It could be important. Maybe the assisted living place Pops lives in?”
“You’re right. I should go see.” I sigh as I climb out of bed, wincing when all kinds of fluids leak down my thighs. “I don’t want to leave a trail of cum all the way down the stairs. Could you grab it for me?”
“Sure. Go get in the shower, and I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” I do a weird hobble to the ensuite as Eaton wipes his cock off with his T-shirt before pulling on a pair of boxers.
I hadn’t seen the bathroom before now, and I stop just past the threshold, gasping at how lux it is. Custom tile work, brushed gold fixtures, a granite top on the hand-carved vanity, and the shower. . . oh my god, the shower. It’s as big as the entire bathroom in my apartment. Spanning the whole back wall, the steam shower boasts textured tiles, a rainfall shower on one end, and I count six shower heads going halfway down the other. And holy fuck, there’s a tub.
“I live here,” I whisper. “This is my shower. I can use it whenever I want.”
Hand to God, even if Eaton was a dick, I’d put up with it for this shower alone. Of course I won’t tell him that, but things would have to get pretty bad before I’d give this slice of heaven up.
Giddy with excitement, I turn on the rainfall option and warm water falls down on me, but not like at home, where I have to wait ten minutes for the water to heat. Color me happy, but this man has an on-demand water heater. How is this my life? I spend a good long while cleaning between my legs, which is no easy feat, but I smile the whole time, thinking about how I got this way.
I wish I could freeze time so I could just enjoy this moment for a little longer, but I’m not naive enough to think it’ll stay this way, so I soak up as much bliss as I can.