Chapter 14 – Juliette #2
“But on one of two conditions,” he murmured against my ear. “You want some, you have to give some, yeah?”
I nodded. I could kiss him some more. If that’s what he wanted. I really didn’t mind the tongue thing.
“You can either make me come. Or you can come back to sleeping in my bed.”
My eyes widened, then narrowed. This was clearly a devil’s bargain.
“How do I have to…”
I was inexperienced but I wasn’t born yesterday. I knew what a blow job was. But if I didn’t think I was ready for him to fuck me, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready to let him shove his dick in my mouth. I’d just gotten used to his squishy tongue.
“You can just stroke me with your hand,” he muttered, then looked down at his lap in between us. My eyes followed and…oh wow. Like he was hard and I could see it pressed against his jeans, thick and long.
Holy shit.
I squeezed the side of my knees into his hips.
“I’ll pull my cock out and you stroke me until I come. Then I’ll do you with my fingers. You want to do that? Or you want to come back to my bed?”
“I don’t have to do either,” I said, adamantly.
He smiled tightly. “You do not. This is entirely in your control.”
The choice was simple. If I did this thing now, then it was done. He got something out of it and I got something out of it. If I went back to sleeping with him, that would be a nightly thing.
I understood his tactic. He was hoping to wear down the enemy. Prove to me that my options for escape were limited. Maybe get to the point of Stockholm Syndrome where I began to fall in love with my jailer. Saw him as someone who was here to protect me instead of take my farm.
The smartest thing to do would be to get off his lap, go upstairs, and close the door to my bedroom. Try and figure this whole orgasm shit out on my own.
But I couldn’t look past the fact that this was my first full-blown sexual experience with kissing and everything. Of my own choosing. I was going to be twenty-one in a few weeks. It felt like all of this should have already happened for me by now.
And that wasn’t to say I was just doing it, to do it.
I felt this need deep inside. To be touched. To feel normal.
This man, whatever his faults, wasn’t going to hurt me. He also had a proven track record of making me feel good. I didn’t watch porn. I didn’t really know what was involved in making him come, but surely the whole thing couldn’t take more than ten minutes or so.
Ten minutes. My own orgasm. Back to my room.
I reached for his jeans and slipped the button through the loop. I started to move the zipper, but his dick was in the way and I had visions of it getting caught in my unzipping ineptitude.
“You do it,” I told him. Then I watched as he lifted his hips, undid his zipper and pushed both his jeans and underwear down over his thighs. His cock sprang up like an eager puppy in search of pets.
I reached for him and wasn’t surprised to find him hot to the touch.
But what did surprise me was the feel of him in my hand.
His skin was smooth, almost supple. The head was thick and round with a slit on top that was dripping a little.
There was zero strategy to my movements, just exploration. With my fingertips, my hand.
Looking up at his face, he seemed entirely relaxed.
His arms stretched out on either side of the couch.
His legs sprawled out in front of him. His face pinned to where my hands were touching him.
The only thing that gave away any intensity on his part were the splashes of neon red high on his cheekbones.
Like he’d been sunburned or was drunk. But it was clear that his blood was running hot.
I swallowed, reaching for some courage I wasn’t sure I had. “What do I do?”
“What you’re doing, baby. Just fucking touch me, get used to what my dick looks like. Feels like.”
But I didn’t like that answer. I didn’t want him to be patient with my inexperience.
I didn’t want him to tutor me in the art of jacking off.
I wanted to make him a little crazy, (not too crazy that I couldn’t handle him), but a little crazy.
For him to chase that sense of completion like I had when he’d had me ass up in his lap that day.
I gripped him more firmly, right under the bulbed head of his dick, and then using my thumb, I spread the cum leaking from the top of the slit around the head and that…that made his whole body shudder.
So I did it again and again, until those hands he’d stretched out on either side of the couch were gripping the cushions in a death hold.
“Stroke me, baby,” he groaned. “Up and down like this.”
He released one of the cushions and wrapped his big hand around my smaller one, showing me what he wanted. Tight hold, long strokes up and down. Up and down. I could feel my ass rocking back against his knees in the same rhythm.
“You ever seen a man come?” he asked me.
I didn’t look at him, just shook my head and continued to stroke him.
He leaned forward then, off the back of the couch, and with one motion took his shirt off.
His bare chest was smooth. Two brown circles highlighted with pointed nipples drew my attention first, then the ripple of his abs.
The chain he wore around his neck with the symbol hanging from it, ever present.
He held the shirt in one hand, while his other encouraged me to keep my rhythm.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice a low grunt.
“No way.” I was too focused on my hand, his hand, how much redder his cock was getting.
“Look at me, Jules.”
My eyes flicked up to his.
“You’re so hot right now. The way you’re looking at my dick. I’m going to make you come a few times. I’m not going to stop until you’re screaming for it.”
That was the plan.
“Harder now, baby. That’s it. Don’t be afraid. I can’t wait to fuck your pussy with my cock. It’s going to feel so good by the time I get in there. But I’ll take this, baby. I’ll take your fucking hand and your fucking eyes on me. Faster, harder. Just like that. Just like…”
He pulled his shirt over our hands before I could see much. Just a spurt of something white erupting from his cock. His body shuddered underneath me and his hips snapped up like he was fucking into my fist.
Eventually, he settled, but I was still so keyed up I thought my skin was going to split at the seams.
“Now me,” I said, before he got so comfortable he fell asleep on the couch.
He smiled lazily. “I’m not going to let you hang. Stand up.”
Scrambling off his knees, I stood between his legs.
“You want to get naked? Let me see your pretty tits?”
I shook my head. Truth told, I had no idea if my tits were pretty or not.
“Okay, take off the overalls and your underwear, then come back and sit on my legs like you were.”
With two shucks of the straps at my shoulders the overalls fell to my feet.
The t-shirt I wore underneath fell to my thighs.
It was one of his. When I did the wash these days, I always swiped at least one for myself because the cotton was softer then my old cheap shirts.
Sliding my fingers up underneath the hem of the shirt, I tucked them into the sides of my panties and slid them down my legs, kicking them off with my feet.
I caught another glance of his face. Those flaming red splotches were still there on his cheekbones.
He reached out to me and helped me climb back onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips, pressed into the back of the couch.
Bare ass cheeks resting on his knees. My nipples were hard.
Maybe he could at least see that through the thin material of my bra.
Then he lifted his hand toward my mouth. He cupped my chin in his palm and slid his fingers over my lips. They still felt a little raw from earlier when we were making out. He pushed his finger past my lips.
“Suck it into your mouth.”
I did as instructed, although that wasn’t where I wanted his fingers.
“Yesss,” he hissed. Then he pulled his hand away and put both of them on the inside of my thighs.
Stroking the skin there. Moving higher to where I wanted him.
One hand slipped under the shirt, so I couldn’t see his hand, until I felt it.
Brushing my pussy lips, separating them.
Then his finger pressed into my body and it felt like this hot and heavy intrusion.
Like it had before, only better, because this time I knew what to expect.
I fell forward and braced both my hands on his shoulders while he slid his finger in and out.
In and out. In and out. Nothing else. Just that.
“It’s not happening!” I said, or maybe shouted. That tingling feeling. The sense that something was coming was there, but it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Just feel this, Jules. I’m fucking you with my finger. Remember when I told you cock feels good? This is like that. Just enjoy it.”
Only, I didn’t enjoy it. Not really. His finger felt big and intrusive. Relentless. But after a second I could feel my hips cooperating with him. He was pushing into me and I was rocking into it.
“There you go, baby. Fuck my finger. Just like that. Now I’m going to add another. It will be tight, but keep fucking it.”
“Ahhhh!” It was tight. And it pinched and I almost pulled away, but now his thumb was there, on that spot that I didn’t know how to touch. Just brushing it lightly at first as his fingers went deeper and deeper.
“That’s my girl, you’re so fucking hot.”
There was no humility in this. I had both of my hands on top of his shoulders, digging my fingers in hard while I bounced on his fingers and his thumb teased me and teased me.
He steadied me with one hand around my rib cage, just under my breasts, and then the teasing was done and his thumb hit that spot and held it there until I went off.
“Fuck,” I whispered. It felt so fucking good. Better than I imagined any drug. This was why they called it a sin. This was why you had to resist it. Because this urgent, floaty liquid feeling coursing through my body was fucking delicious.
“Baby,” he whispered, sliding his fingers from my body, sucking them into his mouth like they were covered in honey. “Now give me a kiss and go up to your room, or, swear to God, I will fucking tear you apart with my dick.”
I leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, swipe my tongue against his quickly. Then I was pushing myself off his legs, gathering up my overalls and running upstairs to the safety of my bedroom.
It was only once I was in my bedroom, the door closed, while I panted with relief or exertion or whatever…that I realized I’d left my panties behind.
We weren’t rich. I only had so many pairs of clean cotton underwear.
However, I was willing to sacrifice them to the cause.