Authors: Kenny Wright
And yes, there was jealousy. A lot of jealousy. At times, it nearly threatened to overwhelm the excitement and force him to call off the game.
Sarah reached beneath the table and found his erection hard and healthy. In the end, it always came back to that. Lust was trumped only by prudence, and today, prudence had no place.
“Where are you going?” Jack asked as Sarah abruptly pulled away and slid out of the booth.
“The bathroom. I’ll be right back, dear, don’t worry. I can trust you to be good in my absence?”
He watched her ass shift as she left him, back and forth in that tight skirt of hers, and adjusted himself.
Sarah’s pussy was soaking by the time she locked the bathroom door. She could still feel Jack’s cock in her hand. Taste it in her mouth? She laughed to herself as her heart skipped. What would Jack have done if she’d just gone ahead, unzipped him, and dropped her head into his lap? He’d probably love it. Sarah took a deep breath. Forced herself to face the mirror. “Breath.”
She thought back to her massage. She’d been so angry as she’d gotten undressed and crawled up onto that table. By the time she was putting her clothes back on, though, she’d felt ready for anything.
But now, Jack had redefined what anything meant. Was she up for it?
“All better?” Jack asked when Sarah returned.
Their meal had arrived. Oysters and shot glasses of chilled vodka were arranged on a tiered platter of crushed ice. Jack had already squeezed lemon onto the oysters and was salivating for his first shot.
“That looks good.” Sarah slid back into the booth, kissed him on the cheek, and sank under it.
As he checked the area and made sure they were still alone, Sarah unzipped his trousers, reached in, and wrapped her fingers around him. He glanced down at her, blinking in disbelief.
Sarah couldn’t believe she was doing this, either. Waves of heat rolled across her body as she pumped Jack’s cock, working the leaking precum into the supple skin. His black eyes were dilated with his hunger. She tightened her fingers, saw him swoon. The naughty power in her hands was empowering. She shivered and closed her lips around the now-glistening head.
Jack groaned, tipping his head back into the cushion of the booth. Sarah watched him carefully. He was her eyes. When he whipped his head back to the stairs, her heart contracted with fear. They were caught. The server had come! She banged her head against the table, rattling the glasses, before he glanced down and laughed.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I thought I saw someone.”
She breathed with relief and turned back to her naughty task. Her first pass along his cock was languid. Her tongue swirled a sinuous S, surveying the contrast of soft skin over taut flesh. She stretched her lips around him and let him fill her mouth, collapsing the moist walls of her cheeks against it as she sucked. He felt huge—he always did at first, especially after it had been a while. And it had been too long.
She withdrew at the same agonizing pace, leaving it wet and glistening. With a pop, she was off him, smiling. Encouraged by his heavy-lidded approval, she quickly returned. This time faster. As much as she loved torturing Jack with her blow jobs, her racing heart didn’t let her forget where they were.
Jack splayed his fingers across the linen and hooked his thumbs around the lip of the table. He forced deep breaths through his nose. She recognized this tactic. He was concentrating on the flare of his nostrils to keep a quick climax at bay. She redoubled her efforts, knowing how the sight of her bobbing head disarmed those efforts. She could hear his grip tighten on the table. The booth crunched as he shifted his hips forward and opened his legs a little more.
Sarah peeked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall in quick, shallow breaths. She slid and swirled her mouth faster. Her body was on fire. Any moment, they could be caught. Any moment... The fingers of her free hand worked beneath her skirt and panties.
Sarah groaned, the low sound sending a hum along Jack’s length. He jerked in his seat, sending the cap of his cock into Sarah’s throat. She gagged, but quickly relaxed her oscillating muscles. She had been with Jack long enough to know how to deal with his size, and while she didn’t love deep-throating, she knew it was the fastest way to get him off.
Another way shimmied into her thoughts. She pulled off, holding his cock against her face as she looked up at him. “Is this what you want me to do tonight? With David?” She felt him throb in her pumping hand. “’Cause that’s who I’m imagining.”
Without another word, she fell on him again, swallowing him back into her throat. What had been a white lie turned into truth. She shut her eyes and suddenly it was David looming above her, legs splayed, cock hard and ready. Her fingers circled her clit. Her body swelled and contracted as her own release began to build. She moved her thumb against her clit and pushed two fingers into her sex as David’s imagined cock surged inside her throat.
This was wrong—yet it wasn’t wrong enough. She wanted to feel all that girth in her pussy, not her mouth. She wanted to feel it deep. Hot. Filling her until she burst.
Jack’s sharp inhalation ripped through the air as Sarah’s throat and cheeks caved around his cock. His orgasm quaked from root to shaft to crown. Jack’s cum was quick to follow.
She rose from beneath the table, sucking in fresh air. The confined space had been sweltering, the linens trapping heat like a pressure cooker. She grabbed the first thing she saw and downed it: a shot of chilled vodka that burned her throat. She wiped her brow and glanced at Jack. He stared at her with a bemused expression that made her feel bashful. Instead, she squared her shoulders, picked up an oyster, and said, “To Leap Day.”
While Sarah floundered, Jack looked on, impressed. He hadn’t looked at her like that since they’d first fallen in love... Or lust. Or whatever.
He grabbed an oyster and clacked it against Sarah’s. Together, they swallowed the briny shellfish like nothing had just happened.
“I can’t believe you just did that. You’re incredible.”
Sarah’s heart fluttered. “There’s still a little evidence if you need more convincing.” She touched his cock, which hung soft and exposed from his trousers. It jumped as she touched it. To feel it inside her, her thighs spread over Jack’s legs, is what she
wanted. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She was thinking like some kind of nymphomaniac.
Jack zipped himself back up just as Autumn returned. They ignored the smirk on her face and pretended that her “how is everything?” was just a routine question.
They ate their oysters and sipped their vodka, talking around and around the subject at the forefront of both of their thoughts. It took a text to bring it to the surface.
–what time were you thinking tonight?
Sarah looked at Jack. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Oh, it’s not.” He laughed, a little drunk on vodka, but mostly on the situation. “But that’s what makes it so hot.”
Sarah just shook her head. “This is insane.” Then she thought about how he’d swapped their phones and drove her to this point. “You really want this?”
“Look, honey, I love you, and I know you love me. That’s never going to change. We’re going into this with both eyes open. I want you to have fun. I want you to go crazy. Just for a day. You’ll be mine tomorrow. And every day after.”
“Why? What do you get out of it?” She narrowed her eyes. “You sure you don’t want to fuck the waitress?” The vodka had loosened her tongue. “She’d be up for it. I’ve watched the way she’s been eyeing you.”
She didn’t like the flare in Jack’s eyes, but in the end, he shook his head. “I told you, it’s not like that. This isn’t about other women... unless you want to hook up with Autumn. That would be pretty hot.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Maybe next Leap Year.”
“So there’s hope.”
She shouldered him with a giggle.
“Seriously though, I can’t explain it. It barely makes sense to
. But I don’t think there’s going to be a more ideal time. No kids. The guy isn’t some stranger, but there’s no threat of him trying to steal you from me. He’s out of the picture by the weekend.”
“You make it sound so rational, when what we’re talking about is me fucking another man.”
Jack liked it when Sarah swore. It was so different than her usual self. If she actually went through with this tonight, it would be that feeling a thousand times over. “I know, right?”
“Aren’t you, like, worried about him ruining me for you or something?”
Jack screwed up his face. “Like that’s possible. If anything, you’ll appreciate me more. Not every man can do what I do.”
“Roll over and fall asleep so fast?” There was no bite to the statement.
Jack pulled her against him and ran his hand up her thigh. She parted more easily than before, but he stopped at her stocking tops. “Why don’t I give you something to remember me by?”
“Here?” Sarah wanted it, but she didn’t. Going down on him was risky. Actual sex was just crazy. They were adults, after all. There were consequences. “I’m sorry, babe, but that’s a bit much, no matter how special the day.”
“That’s cool. I have a tee time on the back nine I have to make in half an hour anyway.”
Sarah laughed. “That’s the crazy husband I know. Watch out for the sand trap on 10.”
Sarah braced her left hand on the shower wall, spreading each finger until the webbing of her hand stung. The pain cut through the relentlessness of her orgasm. Her other hand shifted the detached showerhead against her clit and she shrieked out the last of it.
Her arms were rubbery when she reattached the nozzle and switched it to a gentler setting. She hadn’t intended to play with herself, but she seemed insatiable. Even crouching on the floor of the shower as the spray washed away her perspiration, she tingled for more.
“Get a hold of yourself, girl.” She stood, her knees wobbly, and thrust her head under the water. She splashed it across her face, tracing the contours of her nose, her lips, the jut of her cheeks, then back through her wet hair. The hot water needled her breasts. When she cupped them, her nipples were hard.
Sarah shampooed her hair and washed her face without issue, but when she took a loofah to her body, she had to fight the urge to play some more. She’d never felt this sexed up.
When she went for her razor to do her legs, she thought about who she was doing that for. Could she really let another man run his hands along her legs? Her hand travelled across her trimmed brown curls. Would he touch her there?
Sarah reached for the shaving gel again. She thought about Jack and how much he wanted her to get a bikini wax. Sometimes, she wondered if he’d made it his mission in life to reduce her pubic hair to nothing. She’d always resisted. She liked having a little something there. She always kept it closely cropped, and in the summer, left just a patch.
But she wasn’t just pleasing Jack. She didn’t even think about what her hands were doing. She was on autopilot, spreading a thick lather across the gentle rise of her mound. David was younger than her. Single and good-looking, he’d probably been with a number of younger women. She knew she had the body to compete with any of them. This was just another way of competing.
Sarah switched blades and re-lathered, her last strokes going against the grain to give her a nice, smooth shave. It was only when she rinsed the foam away and ran her fingers across her bare flesh that she realized that she’d done it.
Guilt sizzled across her scalp. How many times had Jack asked her to do this? How many times had she told him that it was never going to happen? And now, she’d done it not for him—or even for her—but for David.
Her fingers finished their journey across the soft curve of her clean-shaven pussy. With nothing to obstruct it, it was so easy to find her clit, and when she did, she nearly lost control. The excitement fed off the guilt. It was that naughty giddiness of smoking pot behind the high school gym. Or going down on Jack in a restaurant in the middle of the day.
With those thoughts, coupled with ones of David and his broad shoulders, it didn’t take Sarah long to cum. She leaned a shoulder against the tile, dropped her left hand beside her right, and finished herself. Her orgasm rushed through her as she curled a third finger into her moist folds.
Sarah shuddered, eyes shut, mouth slack. Perception lagged. She felt each isolated drop of shower spray on her skin. Felt the liquid heat slither down her arms and chest to race across her cunt.
Sound returned, harsh and high-pitched in her muted ears. Her throat was raw. Had she been moaning? Screaming? She didn’t scream when she came, but it felt like she had.
She soaped her loofah again. She wanted to be fresh for whatever happened tonight. No sweat on her. No smell of sex. By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was shriveled and pruny, but clean.
Picking what to wear was tricky. She didn’t want to be too obvious and lead David on—no matter what Jack thought, she’d decided that this was just a dinner, not a date. But she also didn’t want to look like a slouch. This was a game: how close to the line could she get?
Walking into her closet nude, she settled on a wrap dress that was clingy without being trashy. The rich green drew out the color of her eyes, and while it wasn’t short, it felt short enough. In the mirror, she admitted that she looked good.
Footwear was her next big decision. Pumps or heeled sandals would be too obvious; flats too casual. She settled on a pair of brown ankle boots with kitten heels.
It was at her lingerie drawer that she finally let herself cross the line. He wouldn’t ever see these choices, so she nourished her fantasy here.
She hadn’t felt like this since college, preparing for a first date with a new guy. She’d made the same assurances back then, knowing that they’d end up seeing her pretty under things anyway. The thought remained with her as she slipped into a green lacy thong and matching bra. She rolled on nude-colored stay-ups, pleased with the way Jack kept touching and staring at her stockings earlier. She couldn’t wait to give David a glimpse.
Jack came home as Sarah was blow-drying her hair into long, glossy waves. She hadn’t put on her dress yet and stood framed in the light of the bathroom. Jack stared, vowing never to take her for granted again.
“Hey, honey. Hard day at work?” she greeted.
Jack resisted the easy pun. “You look fantastic.” He eyed her nylons. Twice in one day. “Can we pretend it’s February 29 every day?” And her green lingerie was so tiny: spindly bands of green arced over her hips and met in a scrap of lace before plunging between her heart-shaped ass.
Sarah laughed. “Every day? I’m not sure I could take that.” She slipped the blow-drier back onto the top shelf, stretching out like a dancer.
He eyed her, agreeing. “I’m not sure I could, either.”
He watched Sarah prepare with the sexual equivalent of morbid fascination. Every vivid detail prickled across his skin and squirmed in his stomach.
She finished her hair first, brushing it out before putting it half-up. She twisted the back into a loose bun while keeping her long bangs free to frame her face. Tucking the loose strands over her ears, she glanced at Jack in the mirror, flashed him a smile, and started on her make-up. She went heavier than normal. Blush to emphasize her already prominent cheekbones. Kohl-black eyeliner to widen her eyes. Mascara to lengthen her lashes.
Lipstick was last. Jack watched her pick through the shades, his cock tight against its zipper. She’d pull a shade out, try it on, and blow herself a kiss before shaking her head and wiping it off. She seemed to rule out red—too suggestive. Pinks were tried on and discarded.
he wondered, followed by more questions:
Did she take this long when getting ready for him?
Was she so meticulous?
Sarah settled on a pale coral that was close to her natural color. When she turned, light caught in its shine. She smiled at him. “What do you think?”
Jack rose darkly. The lipstick was perfect. The lingerie exquisite. The preparation had him erect and uncomfortable, yet it had also tweaked a nerve. Sarah turned her back to him as he stalked her. She’d upset his macho sensibilities.
He watched her turn, shielding herself from the hunger and possession in his approach, but knew that she wanted it, too. He adjusted himself and she saw, a cry escaping her parted lips.
In those moments before falling into another man’s arms, she needed this. Needed to be needed. Needed to be owned.
Jack cradled her against his strong frame. “Let’s be clear.” His voice was quiet confidence. This wasn’t a debate or a discussion. “You’re free to do whatever you want tonight. Anything goes.”
Possibility assaulted them, entwined shadows in the recesses of their minds—of David, of Sarah, of all the things they could do together. Jack’s cock was stiff against Sarah’s ass and lower back. She yielded to him, arching against his hands as they enveloped her breasts.
His voice dropped even lower, the first gusts of a storm. “But understand this. At the end of the night, you come back to me. Where you belong.”
Sarah’s moan tumbled from her throat as she swooned. He held her in his thick arms. He always did. Always would.
“Do you understand?”
Sarah nodded. Jack dove along the exposed sweep of her neck. His fingers stiffened, denying the thirst to rake across her soft curves and maul her tits. He grazed his teeth against her jugular, having to stop before he bit.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes...” It came out a hiss, more S than anything. He thumbed her nipple, feeling it grow longer. Feeling her breasts swell.
“Yes, what?” He skimmed his right hand down the flat plane of her stomach and pushed them into her thong.
“Yes, I’m yours.” She rocked back against him. She was water against stone, crashing and thrashing against his immobile maleness.
Jack eased his hand along her sticky sex, hot and shockingly smooth.
Had she...? Was she now...?
Fucking hell, Sarah had shaved her cunt bald. He jerked, pushing his fingers between those hyper soft lips. He could feel her teetering on edge…
And then he pulled away. She cried out in protest as he led her the bed and laid her down. He pulled her panties away and draped her legs over his shoulders. “You did this for him.” It wasn’t a question, but packed a punch. She did. They both knew it. Both felt the tangle of guilt, jealousy, and arousal.
Jack tilted his head, strumming his tongue along the knot of hooded flesh. She writhed on his mouth, splaying her legs for him. He heard her imminent orgasm in her shallow panting and pulled away.
He rammed two fingers into her, down to the knuckle, and found the sweet spot inside. “You keep trying to tell me what to do.” He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clitoris. She cried out as if struck, her body flinching forward, abs tight. “I think I need to teach you a lesson.” With one last circle of his thumb, he yanked his hand away.
“No!” She pushed up on her elbows, her face mad with desperation.
Jack tried to contain his smile but it came out, almost cruel in his delight. He licked his fingers, tasting her. Would David get a taste later? Fuck, he was hard. “I bet you’ve already gotten off.”
He placed his hand on the soft flesh where her hip met her thigh, resting his thumb at the top of her mound. He was careful to avoid her clit.
“Jack, please,” she begged, rolling her hips against his touch. He pushed her down with his fingertips. She resisted a few seconds longer, then gave up.
“So? Did you get off? Maybe while you did this?” He stroked the smooth rise above her clit, where once there was soft, light brown hair. It was even hotter than he’d imagined, somehow made more so because of its intended audience.
Sarah nodded. Her breathing settled. Had she been tense because of him? Had she been worried what he’d think?
“Good, because you’re not going to again until after dinner.” He slipped his hand down against her clit, so fast she wasn’t expecting it. Her body tightened. His mouth descended again, nuzzling her swollen folds with his lips and tongue. He sensed her orgasm in the pitch of her moans and the way her toes curled across his back. Just a few more laps, a few more twists of his fingers, and…
And then he was off her again. She tried to hold him close. She clamped her thighs around his head and clawed at his hair, but he brushed her off and pulled away.
As he stood and peeled his shirt off, he ignored the plea in her eyes. Instead, he worked off his pants and boxer briefs, the cords of his muscles shifting. Drawing attention. He’d worked a sheen of sweat that caught the afternoon sunlight and knew just how much Sarah liked that look. He stepped forward, holding his cock at its base, and rested a knee on the bed between her legs.
With his free hand, he touched her again, scouting the glistening plane. She watched his fingers work, hoping that he would let her cum—or forget to stop. She sighed when he placed the bulbous tip of him against her clit, bouncing the spongy head and teasing her with its ridge.
“I like this,” he said, sawing his shaft between her lips and across her tender button. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“Nuh.” His second pass wasn’t along her, but inside her.
“Feel this, baby. Remember this.”
Sarah squeezed the walls if her pussy around it as she writhed beneath him. “God, Jack, you feel good.”
When he pulled back and stroked her, she flowed against him, crashed against him. Three strokes and she’d be there, shattered and broken. Two more— “No!”
He pulled out of her and pushed to his feet, towering over her. He glided his hand along his length, moistened by her own tangy excitement. Jack had played this game with her before and could keep her teetering on edge for hours.
Sarah sat up, curled her legs under her, and took over for his jerking fingers. She tugged him, the supple flesh sliding up and down his rigid shaft. Stroking from root to head, she worked in her juicy lubrication. He jerked each time she passed across the ridge of his cockhead, the pressure in his balls growing.
Her hand squished wetly as she picked up speed. He’d already cum once with her at lunch, but felt a second begin to build. She added her other hand, twisting and stroking in harmony. When she sucked the head into her mouth, he realized just how close he was. She swirled her tongue along the crown, flicking the sensitive spot up under until he was sucking in air through his flaring nose.
And then she pulled away. She looked up at him, pleased with herself, his cock still secured in her small hand. “If I don’t get to cum before the restaurant, you don’t, either.”
Jack stared down at her. Her face glistened, but somehow her hair had maintained its semi-casual style. She was gorgeous. What was he doing?
“I’m going to take a shower.” He stepped away from her. His erection slithered from her hand. “No playing yourself while I’m in there.”
Sarah nodded, eyeing his cock. “Sure. But the same goes for you.”