Sub-Contracting Lust. Part 2
Sub-Contracting Lust. Part 2
I had sporadic communications by phone and email with Jenny while I was away. She didnât return all my calls or messages.
When I returned, we were soon working together again. On our drive to location, she was friendly, but somewhat reserved. The job went well, and as we were driving back, she finally caved in and told me what she had been holding back.
She had been, WAS having an affair with a man she met on a vacation. He was a policeman (a weakness of hers) and she was having sex with him often. She still had âfeelings for meâ, but I left and she was lonely. She was estranged from her husband and wanted a man who cold âbe thereâ for her. And I wasnât that man.
I said, âI wish you nothing but luck, Jennyâ. And I kept hiring her, she kept being great, and she frequently regaled me with stories of her âPoliceman studâ. And I stoically listened and said âIâm happy for youâ. Until the day she told me she found out that (a) her policeman had lied and he was married, (b) she had gotten back with her husband and (c) he had knocked her up. Well, damn. What could I say to that? She took maternity leave and soon after, ceased keeping in contact with me.
And that was it.
Or, so I thought.
Three years later, I got a call from her. âLetâs have coffeeâ so we met at a local diner and she talked about her k**s, her work in the religious community and all sorts of ordinary things, then she finally told me she wanted to come back to work. As it turned out, I had an opening, so she started the next month.
We never discussed the past, well, rarely. One night, as we neared home base she said, âI have a bottle of rum in my car; want to go have a drink on the beach?â I said that would be OK, and so we went to a secluded area of the shore and settled on a bedspread. It was a beautiful night. We sipped rum, snuggled and bit⌠and the next thing you know, weâre kissing. Then we were making out, then we were petting and then ... just when we were about to go further, she flushed and said, "I think we'd better get home before someone notices we're missing".
So, we got up, brushed the sand off ourselves and drove back to the rendezvous point and went our separate ways.
This kind of thing went on for over a year. Playful, lustful, then backing away and being afraid of what might happen. Until just a month ago. I needed to be picked up at home, as I was all alone for the weekend. I had bought some libations and I invited her in to have a drink when she dropped me off. She accepted. And as it so happened, her husband had taken the k**s to visit family; so she didnât have a compelling reason to get back home.
We drank, laughed and flirted, touched each others hands and arms⌠until she announced she should leave⌠I stood to walk her to the door, but instead, I pulled her to me and we kissed. Deeper, more soulfully than ever before. Passion rose and we were engulfed in its flames. She took me by the hand and led me to the living room, and lay down on the floor. She looked at me. And pulled her dress off. I said, âAre you sure about this?â She said, âYes, for years I have wondered about something. You kiss so good better tan anyone has ever kissed me before, and I canât help but wonder what it would be like to have your mouth on my cunt.â
With that, she pulled off her panties and spread her legs for me. Her pussy was beautiful. I had touched it before, tasted it on my fingers, but never had I seen it. Her thatch was nicely trimmed, but she was not bare. Lips distended and her clit hard and jutting fort, begging to be suckled and teased. I dove in like a man dying of dehydration would bathe in a pool of cool water. I licked her, tongued her, I lavished attention on her pussy with my tongue, my lips â I would gently hold her clit between my teeth and bat it with the tip of my tongue as wave after wave of orgasm broke over her. She moaned, then screamed then howled. She ground her hot quim into my face and I loved every second of it. My face was awash in her fluids, and I drank as much of it as I could. Until she at last said, âI canât take anymore, please stop. â
I kissed my way up her body. Until we kissed, long and deep. I held her, she was trembling and shaking. Her chest heaving like a coal burning train. Her passion still hot, her flesh flushed ruby redâŚ
âFuck me, Jayâ, she insisted. Please, fuck me.â
I pulled her close to me, and I gently kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks and the corners of her mouth. Lovingly, sweetly. And I looked her in the yes and whispered, âNo, Jennyâ.
She was shocked. And before she could question or assume, I continued, âJenny, I adore you too much to fuck you right now, not when you can blame it on the wine, or the night, or circumstances. I care too much for you to have the first time that I make love to you be on a living room floor at 2:45 in the morning when we are both punch drink and tired. I canât, Jenny, I love you too much to do that right now.â
And she held me and wept.
âNo man has ever said something like that to me. But I wanted to make feel goodâ.
I smiled, âOh, Jenny, you have. You made me feel young and desired. And wanted. You canât imagine how good that makes me feel.â
She was speechless.
âDarling, I know you are still craving me â let me helpâ.
I pressed my lips to her and kissed her ardently, lovingly, passionately. Simultaneously I slid my hand between her legs and easily slipped three fingers into her open, sodden pussy. I curled them up and using the technique I have practiced and perfected over the years, I palpated her spongy g-spot until she came in her first ever g-spot orgasm. Her body bucked and quaked, she arched up off the floor as she squirted a gigantic stream of fluid all over my living room carpet. Her legs flailed, her moans were primal, a****listic. She clutched for me, pulling me to her. She wept again.
âSsssh⌠itâs okayâ, I calmed her, âItâs alright babyâŚâ
Eventually, she calmed down. Her breathing slowed. She stopped twitching. I still held her close to me, comforting and reassuring her.
âWhat just happenedâ, she asked.
âYou had a g-spot orgasm, I am assuming for the first timeâ?
âYes, and I am so wet, I am embarrassed, I think I had an accident on your carpet.â
âNo, Sweetie, you didnât⌠you squirted, thatâs all, itâs perfectly natural and nothing to be embarrassed aboutâ.
I helped her get dressed. I walked her to her car. I kissed her goodnight.
We have kissed a few times since that night, but never for long, never with as much passion as before, and it seems that she is now reserved. I thought that might happen, which is way I wouldnât fuck her that night. Because you can never un-fuck someone. And I think if we had done that, it would have been more than she could take.
What do you think?
I had sporadic communications by phone and email with Jenny while I was away. She didnât return all my calls or messages.
When I returned, we were soon working together again. On our drive to location, she was friendly, but somewhat reserved. The job went well, and as we were driving back, she finally caved in and told me what she had been holding back.
She had been, WAS having an affair with a man she met on a vacation. He was a policeman (a weakness of hers) and she was having sex with him often. She still had âfeelings for meâ, but I left and she was lonely. She was estranged from her husband and wanted a man who cold âbe thereâ for her. And I wasnât that man.
I said, âI wish you nothing but luck, Jennyâ. And I kept hiring her, she kept being great, and she frequently regaled me with stories of her âPoliceman studâ. And I stoically listened and said âIâm happy for youâ. Until the day she told me she found out that (a) her policeman had lied and he was married, (b) she had gotten back with her husband and (c) he had knocked her up. Well, damn. What could I say to that? She took maternity leave and soon after, ceased keeping in contact with me.
And that was it.
Or, so I thought.
Three years later, I got a call from her. âLetâs have coffeeâ so we met at a local diner and she talked about her k**s, her work in the religious community and all sorts of ordinary things, then she finally told me she wanted to come back to work. As it turned out, I had an opening, so she started the next month.
We never discussed the past, well, rarely. One night, as we neared home base she said, âI have a bottle of rum in my car; want to go have a drink on the beach?â I said that would be OK, and so we went to a secluded area of the shore and settled on a bedspread. It was a beautiful night. We sipped rum, snuggled and bit⌠and the next thing you know, weâre kissing. Then we were making out, then we were petting and then ... just when we were about to go further, she flushed and said, "I think we'd better get home before someone notices we're missing".
So, we got up, brushed the sand off ourselves and drove back to the rendezvous point and went our separate ways.
This kind of thing went on for over a year. Playful, lustful, then backing away and being afraid of what might happen. Until just a month ago. I needed to be picked up at home, as I was all alone for the weekend. I had bought some libations and I invited her in to have a drink when she dropped me off. She accepted. And as it so happened, her husband had taken the k**s to visit family; so she didnât have a compelling reason to get back home.
We drank, laughed and flirted, touched each others hands and arms⌠until she announced she should leave⌠I stood to walk her to the door, but instead, I pulled her to me and we kissed. Deeper, more soulfully than ever before. Passion rose and we were engulfed in its flames. She took me by the hand and led me to the living room, and lay down on the floor. She looked at me. And pulled her dress off. I said, âAre you sure about this?â She said, âYes, for years I have wondered about something. You kiss so good better tan anyone has ever kissed me before, and I canât help but wonder what it would be like to have your mouth on my cunt.â
With that, she pulled off her panties and spread her legs for me. Her pussy was beautiful. I had touched it before, tasted it on my fingers, but never had I seen it. Her thatch was nicely trimmed, but she was not bare. Lips distended and her clit hard and jutting fort, begging to be suckled and teased. I dove in like a man dying of dehydration would bathe in a pool of cool water. I licked her, tongued her, I lavished attention on her pussy with my tongue, my lips â I would gently hold her clit between my teeth and bat it with the tip of my tongue as wave after wave of orgasm broke over her. She moaned, then screamed then howled. She ground her hot quim into my face and I loved every second of it. My face was awash in her fluids, and I drank as much of it as I could. Until she at last said, âI canât take anymore, please stop. â
I kissed my way up her body. Until we kissed, long and deep. I held her, she was trembling and shaking. Her chest heaving like a coal burning train. Her passion still hot, her flesh flushed ruby redâŚ
âFuck me, Jayâ, she insisted. Please, fuck me.â
I pulled her close to me, and I gently kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks and the corners of her mouth. Lovingly, sweetly. And I looked her in the yes and whispered, âNo, Jennyâ.
She was shocked. And before she could question or assume, I continued, âJenny, I adore you too much to fuck you right now, not when you can blame it on the wine, or the night, or circumstances. I care too much for you to have the first time that I make love to you be on a living room floor at 2:45 in the morning when we are both punch drink and tired. I canât, Jenny, I love you too much to do that right now.â
And she held me and wept.
âNo man has ever said something like that to me. But I wanted to make feel goodâ.
I smiled, âOh, Jenny, you have. You made me feel young and desired. And wanted. You canât imagine how good that makes me feel.â
She was speechless.
âDarling, I know you are still craving me â let me helpâ.
I pressed my lips to her and kissed her ardently, lovingly, passionately. Simultaneously I slid my hand between her legs and easily slipped three fingers into her open, sodden pussy. I curled them up and using the technique I have practiced and perfected over the years, I palpated her spongy g-spot until she came in her first ever g-spot orgasm. Her body bucked and quaked, she arched up off the floor as she squirted a gigantic stream of fluid all over my living room carpet. Her legs flailed, her moans were primal, a****listic. She clutched for me, pulling me to her. She wept again.
âSsssh⌠itâs okayâ, I calmed her, âItâs alright babyâŚâ
Eventually, she calmed down. Her breathing slowed. She stopped twitching. I still held her close to me, comforting and reassuring her.
âWhat just happenedâ, she asked.
âYou had a g-spot orgasm, I am assuming for the first timeâ?
âYes, and I am so wet, I am embarrassed, I think I had an accident on your carpet.â
âNo, Sweetie, you didnât⌠you squirted, thatâs all, itâs perfectly natural and nothing to be embarrassed aboutâ.
I helped her get dressed. I walked her to her car. I kissed her goodnight.
We have kissed a few times since that night, but never for long, never with as much passion as before, and it seems that she is now reserved. I thought that might happen, which is way I wouldnât fuck her that night. Because you can never un-fuck someone. And I think if we had done that, it would have been more than she could take.
What do you think?
11 years ago
