Chapter 22 #2
Let’s put some of that stunning flexibility to the test, shall we?
I lay her down, slide a pillow beneath her lower back to get the angle, and hook her legs over my shoulders.
She releases a small croak as I ease back in, feeling me deeper than before.
I set a driving rhythm, and it’s not long before her moans get wilder and louder.
She’s close. Usually I like to bring a woman to the edge and pull back a few times, but I’ve been close for about an hour and don’t have the strength to tease anymore.
‘Are you ready, baby?’ I huff.
‘I’m almost there.’
That’s my girl. ‘Give it to me. Come all over my dick.’
‘I… I… Jack!’
My name on her lips undoes me. Those swollen lips, that wild hair, those debauched moans, those flushed cheeks, that tight pussy. I come so hard I’m in danger of blacking out.
We collapse on the bed. That was incredible. The best sex I’ve had in… ages, and we didn’t even do anything kinky. Imagine what it’d be like if— No, Jacky boy, remember it’s a one-time-thing. And even if she does agree to a morning session, she won’t want anal. Anal’s not a pre-croissant thing.
Glancing over at post-coital Minnie consoles me. I lie back and throw an arm over my eyes, trying my hardest not to grin to myself like a goon.
There’s just— No, it’s nothing.
But— Nah, I’m being stupid.
But am I?
There’s a little niggle throwing me off. The more I surface from the hazy euphoria, the noisier it gets. I hate my instincts sometimes, but they’re never wrong.
She didn’t pulse around me. Her legs aren’t twitching now.
Her moans felt… too neat. Staged. Porn noises.
Yes! I feel like I was just in a porno. I look over at her, trying to work it out, which is proving tricky since I’m still riding out the aftershocks.
She’s breathless, sweating, flushed, but too alert to have just had a monumental orgasm.
I’m not out of my mind, right? I definitely didn’t forget about her; she acted like she was right there with me.
But I know what it feels like when she loses it, and that wasn’t it.
‘Did you… fake it?’ I utter, sitting up.
‘What?’ It’s too cautious.
‘You faked it.’
‘No! Of course no—’
‘I’m not an idiot, Minnie. Admit it.’
She sits up too. I can see panic in her eyes even through the darkness. ‘So what if I did? What are you so angry about?’
‘Next time, we’re—’
‘There’s not going to be a next time.’ Her tone’s gruff. ‘This is a one-time thing, remember?’
I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. I’m so pissed at myself.
But why would she fake it? Like I’d care if she takes longer, if penetrative sex doesn’t do it for her, if she needs an hour of foreplay before she gets anywhere – it’s part of the fun.
Does she think that low of me that I’d get myself off and roll over to sleep?
‘Yeah. Fine. Whatever,’ I mutter. ‘Lie down.’
‘Very bossy.’
‘Yeah I’m bossy. I’m annoyed with you.’
‘About what? You got what you wanted.’
How could she think that? ‘No I didn— We’re not doing this now. Lie down.’
‘Stop telling me what to do.’ She lies down anyway but I feel no victory about it.
I slide my hand between us under the duvet and find her sex with ease.
I’m pacified to find her still soaking – a good girl, even though her owner’s not.
Minnie says nothing as I play with her. Her folds are swollen from everything we did earlier and I clench my teeth hard to distract me from getting too excited about it.
We don’t touch or kiss, and she says nothing, but that doesn’t matter.
It’s not about making up, it’s about finishing.
I slide two fingers inside, causing her body to twitch in pleasure. I don’t warm up – she doesn’t need it – and my fingers set off furiously. Surely she’d want to come, right?
‘I don’t… want to… squirt,’ she whispers, her breathing becoming shallow pants like it did when we were here half an hour ago, like it did in Italy. She’s not faking this.
What does she take me for – a one-trick pony?
I slow down and slip in a third finger. Jesus she’s still so tight.
Her hips start moving with the rhythm of my hand and once I add my thumb to the mix, circling her clit, it’s seconds before I can feel how close she is.
She’s tightening, pulsing. Little whimpers are sneaking past her lips that send heat straight between my legs.
She’s so fucking infuriating. Why would she deny herself the chance to come, and the chance for me to watch her? My dick’s stirring like he’s ready to go again when we both know it’s been a long time since he’s had that kind of stamina.
She cries out and it’s happening. I keep going through every last wave, and when I’m sure she’s done, I gently finish and wait for her to recover.
I don’t look at her or I’ll do something stupid like forgive her.
Post-sex Minnie did funny things to me; post-orgasm Minnie’s probably even more deadly.
When her chest’s resumed its steady pattern, I get up and stomp to the ensuite. ‘I still can’t believe you.’
I can hear her bolt upright. ‘Excuse me?’ she says, her voice raw. ‘I didn’t make you do that, you—’
‘Not that.’ I swing around. ‘You actually let guys get away with not finishing their job. It’s a gift to have sex with a beautiful woman, Minnie. A fucking gift. Never, ever fake it again. Not with me, not with anyone. Those lazy bastards.’ And with that I shut the door.