Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series) (27 page)

As I sat back on the bed, she leaned against the wall, bare from the waist down, wearing just a lovely sleeveless, plum colored top. “Take it off.” I ordered. Her hands slowly went to the top button and she started to undo each of them one by one, teasing. Too slowly. By the time she reached the second button, my already hard cock was pulsing madly. I was almost afraid of moving for fear of shooting off my load. I’d done nothing but my hand for the past week, and with Beth inches from me, stripping, I was nearing my wits end. I stood quickly and grabbed the button edges of her shirt firmly.

“Rule Four,” I stated. “Move quickly.” I ripped the shirt open, sending the last few buttons flying. She let out the breath she was holding in, and as it washed over it intoxicated me even more. I slid my hands up her sides and took her covered breasts into my palms. I rubbed my thumbs over her nipples and felt how taut they were. I dropped my head to her left breast, took her lace-covered mound in my mouth and drew my teeth to her nipple, then bit gently. She gasped and trembled.

As my body pressed against hers, I debated. Do I fuck her against the wall? Or do we use the bed?

Yes, I wanted to fuck her, but more than that, I wanted to make love to her. Yes, I’d be violating my own made up rule to “move quickly,” but hey—rules are made to be broken. I wrapped my arms around her and planted my mouth on hers, plunging my tongue into her mouth. She responded just as lustily. I lifted her and turned us, so that she was backed up to the bed, then slowly lowered her.

I stood and let my eyes take in her incredible body. My eyes rested on her triangle, and I knew what I needed next. “Scoot,” I ordered, my eyes darting to the head of the bed. She obeyed quickly, honoring Made-Up Rule Four.
God she was amazing!

The temperature in the room having risen at least fifteen degrees, I unbuttoned my linen shirt and slid it off, tossing it onto Beth’s pile of clothes. Her eyes were tracking my every move. Enjoying her attention, I unbuckled my belt and slid it from the loops. Bending the belt in half, I snapped it a few times, causing it to crack loudly. Her eyes flew wide. I waggled my brow, smirked, and tossed the belt aside. I dropped my pants and kicked them aside. I stood proudly in front of Beth, my cock jutting out nobly in front of me, enjoying Beth’s appraisal as much as I was.

I stepped forward and placed my hands on her ankles, slowly moving them up to her knees, then spread her legs wide. I knelt between her and slowly lapped at her slit from bottom to top with a wide tongue, noting that she was well and truly wet. I loved how she tasted, a mix of tart, sweet and salty. I couldn’t get enough of it. And as she writhed under me, I clamped my mouth on her clit and slipped two fingers into her wet quim. I started to stroke that front wall and, before long, her walls were rhythmically clamping around my fingers. Strangled cries came from her throat. My love was abiding by Fake Rule Number Three.

I slid up and kissed her deeply, while rubbing my dick along her slit. She eagerly kissed me back, tilting her hips up to me, trying to grind on my member.

She slid a hand between us and lined up the engorged head to that velvety spot. I pulled my head back and looked at her.

“What? You said move quickly. So hurry up!” She grinned from ear-to-ear.

Without wasting another moment, I sunk into her—full hilt. Another strangled cry, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. And if I hadn’t been looking into her eyes, I might have worried. But her eyes were aflame with passion and need. Her hands flew to my back and she dug her nails in. My heart started pounding dangerously, and I was coming unhinged. That combination of pain and pleasure.

“Keep that up, baby. I love your nails,” I grunted. She firmly dragged them toward my ass as I slid nearly out, then plunged back in deeply, quickly, and almost roughly.

Suddenly the plane dropped and bounced with turbulence, as Beth gripped me tighter, her nails probably drawing blood. I exploded, finding my release.

I collapsed on top of her, panting. The plane still bobbing and lurching. “Welcome to the Mile High Club,” I breathed.

K
issing on takeoff was quite exhilarating. Of course, I could kiss Jack at a landfill, or in a Manhattan subway station, and still feel the same rush. And this time, the kiss was so much sweeter.

But sex on a plane? Now
that
was the pinnacle of pleasure. As I lay in Jack’s arms, I considered the intense coupling we just had. It wasn’t just that we could have been ‘caught’ by the attendant at any moment, or that Jack knew just how to wind me up, although that was a close call. Most of all, it was the first time with Jack when I felt completely free. I had completely let go. I was his completely.

H
e fought tooth and nail, but in the end, Jack won, and that’s what mattered. Beth moved in with him. She had insisted on taking the guest room, but she spent most nights in Jack’s room. He loved the way his bed smelled of her.

Beth served Greg with divorce papers just two days after returning to Manhattan. Without contesting it, their divorce could be finalized in a matter of weeks. Beth used Jack’s attorney, and received no indication from Greg’s attorney that Greg was going to put up a fight. Beth asked for nothing. No furnishings, or items of any sentimental value. Anything she wanted, she’d packed when she left. Everything else was tainted. The kids were adults, so no custody issues there. And financially, Beth’s money, namely her inheritance, had been properly managed. Greg had no way of touching it. Beth’s financial independence wasn’t necessary though, because it was Jack’s greatest honor to provide everything for her. But Beth had her pride, and Jack let her have it.

Beth went back to Ed Scott’s and easily got her job back. Three lunch shifts a week. She finally started bartending classes and began her certification. Additionally, she went to work for JSS, serving on the board for two charities, a literacy campaign and their grandest fundraiser, one raising money for breast cancer research.

The most incredible part was taking her to East Fifty-first Street. They had gone to dinner with Becca and Rita. Everyone got along famously. They all chatted easily and freely. Leaving the restaurant, Jack and Beth decided to walk, as the early May evening was unseasonably warm.

“Tell me something,” she said, tucked under Jack’s protective arm.

“I love you, and I can’t wait to get home and do unsavory things to you. That kind of something?” he growled in her ear, knowing she’d be willing. He imagined she was already soaking her panties. The way she had been rubbing her foot up and down his leg all throughout dinner, Jack knew full well she was in a frisky mood.

“Well, always, but…what’s at Fifty-first Street?” Becca had leaned over to Rita after Rita made a cheeky remark and said
‘Do I have to take you to Fifty-first Street?’
Jack hoped Beth hadn’t heard that, but apparently her hearing was as good as ever. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take Beth to his private place, his first apartment, his ‘dungeon,’ but he wanted to make sure that Beth was fully prepared for what she would see there.

These past two weeks, post-Napa time, and here in Manhattan, had been incredible. Beth’s willingness and sexual freedom were more than Jack expected.
Could she handle more?
he wondered. “Maybe I’ll show you one day,” Jack said instead.

“Or you’ll show me now,” she said stopping in her tracks. She held out her arm to hail a cab as if she’d lived here her whole life. One quickly stopped and she dragged Jack to the waiting yellow car.

Inside, Jack told the driver, “Thirty-eighth and Thir—”

“No!” she interrupted. “Fifty-first Street.”

“It’ll be a long walk home from there, Sweetheart, but if it’s a long walk you’re after, I’m all too happy to oblige.”

“You’ll show me what’s at Fifty-first.”

“And what if Fifty-first is occupied? Becca and Rita may be there.”

She pouted. God, how Jack wanted to suck on that plump lower lip. His cock throbbed it’s own desire. “Text her and find out. I want to know,” she whined “And you’ll show me or I may be the one flogging and taking a crop to you.” Jack’s afore mentioned cock leapt to attention. If Beth wanted to see East Fifty-first, Jack was going to show her. He texted B asking if she was taking R there tonight. His answer arrived in just a couple seconds.

10:47pm

Not tonight. ;)

Beth, having seen the incoming text, nudged Jack, who gave the cabbie the new address, and off they went. “East Fifty-first was my first apartment,” he told her.

“You still have it? That’s cute. But isn’t your bachelor pad on Thirty-Eighth enough?”

“We’ll see how cute it is when I show you the place.” Before Jack knew it, they were outside the door to his first apartment.

He took a deep breath as they stood outside the door. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to show me, if you don’t want to,” she said, taking his hand.

“No, I want to. I think you might enjoy this.”

She raised her brows at him, as he slid the key in, and opened the door. They stepped in carefully and Jack flipped the switch on. The soft light illuminated his private lair. Carefully, he watched Beth’s reaction. Her eyes carefully scanned the walls, the walls that were decorated with paddles, crops, and whips. Handcuffs of all kinds: silver, fuzzy, and medieval. Packaged dildos, plugs, and beads. Various sized spreaders, a large St. Andrew’s Cross and a small Wartenberg wheel.

She walked by the furnishings, which weren’t many. He could only guess at what she was thinking, while she took in the spanking bench, the Berkley Horse and the sex swing. Not all items were Jack’s purchases. B and R actually outfitted most of what was found here.

She made her way back to the spanking bench, and locked eyes with Jack. Slowly she leaned over it and rested on the platform with an inquisitive, “Hm-mmm.” Her eyes growing hooded, she slowly pulled up her skirt higher and higher. As the hem reached her ass, then over her backside, Jack almost shot a load. He bit his lip and read her face. Standing straighter, and not breaking eye contact, he walked to the wall. He fingered the whips, cuffs, and packaged goodies. Her eyes flicked to the floggers and a smile spread on both of their faces.

He pulled a lovely leather, not suede, one from the wall and swaggered over to her at the bench. He stood commandingly at her head. With an almost drunken grin, she looked up at him. The good girl that she was, and how she knew him so well, she waited for his command.

“Take out my cock,” he breathed.

“Yesss, Sirrr,” she slurred coyly. She reached for his slacks and unzipped the fly, then finagled his straining member from his boxers. She waited, panting, lips parted and lush. Jack had been a Dom for many years, but no one drove him as insane as Beth did. He strained to control himself. Every time she touched him, breathed on him, or even looked at him, he almost came.

“Take it in as deeply as you can.”

“Yesss, Sirrr,” she purred. He slid his dick into her mouth until his pubes were touching her nose. Anywhere, this would drive him crazy, but here, in
this
place, with
Beth
, his
breath
, he was quickly losing his mind.

She worked his cock as she’d learned to do over the past couple of weeks. She was perfect, and got better every time. She swirled her tongue over his pulsing crown, then slid down the shaft slowly until he was pushed against the back of her throat. He reached forward and rubbed his hands over her ass, massaging and dragged my nails across the skin, creating small, pink tracks. She moaned with every stroke.

He pulled out of her, wanting this little game to go on a little longer, and if he stayed seated in her mouth, he was going to blow. He wanted to explode in her glorious pussy, not her mouth. He walked around to her back side, his cock bobbing proudly in front of him while admiring the designs he’d clawed.

“Have you been a good girl? Or a bad girl?” he asked, slapping the flogger in his hand. He’d not yet introduced her to this game and he eagerly awaited her reply.

“I’ve been good, Sir,” she replied.