Her whole body jolted. And again. And again. If she didn’t come now she never would. Every nerve in her body was firing, every muscle tensed and beginning to burn. Her breath had stopped. She was dying from pleasure. She always knew she would one day.
EIGHTEEN
Emma was forced into action by her inability to topple her tower. She once again pressed her hand into herself, but this time seeking and finding that much maligned and very real spot that has been so unimaginatively labelled. She began to rub the area like she might Aladdin’s lamp. Impetuously, greedily, and somewhat thoughtlessly, contrary to the manner she found most favourable in saner times. This excited her all the more but failed to trigger the collapse she so desired. Her fucking husband could have done his bit! Was he lying asleep upstairs, dreaming wicked dreams, when his wife was living a wicked life? Come down and find out what kind of a woman you’ve married! Come down.
Her hand weakly and irregularly stroked Jason’s cock. She stared hungrily at it though. She could feel it enter her. She wanted it entering her. She had to have it in her. There was no other way to topple her tower. But he had to take her.
Be a man, boy! Be a man! Can’t you see what you’ve done to me?
She was on her knees and vividly imagining Jason on his knees behind her. No. Her husband. No. Jason.
The tower shook, her body shook, she hung on the edge, the edge of reason.
The power of the sensation was beginning to numb her senses. She forgot Jason. Only her husband in a full fury could bring her down. Fuck! Come on! Come on! Oh! Please, please. Oh fuck me! Fuck me! Your dirty whore of a wife! Fuck me! Her mind was spinning round and round this one hope. All of her body was pulled taut till spasms wracked her.
She needed to be caught. She needed to be caught! Now!
She pressed her head against Jason’s thigh as her hand squeezed his thick shaft and felt the first heavy thud of her husband’s hips against her arse as he embedded himself in her.
She felt his hand on her neck, gripping it roughly. He was swearing at her. Calling her all the worst names a husband could conjure up.
He lifted her head and made her take the boy’s cock in her mouth. The whole length of it disappeared and he held her there. She was choking. Her eyes watered. But she sucked it for her husband.
He wanted her to be all that she was. The demeaning deluge of vile words kept rolling from his vicious tongue. She was pushed forward by David’s heavy, hard thrusts, thumping deep, deep inside her. He hated her at this moment. He was so hard, a truncheon. He brutalised her. Criminal wife! Pounding her hard and fast. He wanted to climax in her one last time. He’d leave her for this. No fucking respect. But he also knew his wife so well, and wanted to leave her knowing just what she was forfeiting. The glutton. She didn’t marry me for nothing. He lowered his hips slightly and thrust up and found what she had been looking for all this time. Dynamite!
‘Emma! What the hell are you doing?’
There it was! The tower toppled. She lifted her head, arching her back, leaving Jason’s cock. She let out an unchecked, deep moan, too loud for the backyard at midnight. Her whole body shook uncontrollably. She collapsed onto him and quaked violently, her hand still in herself, her sex pulsating, tears in her eyes. She began crying in earnest. The aftershocks were delicious. The first wave had been too intense for her conscious self to acknowledge, let alone judge, but these tremors were absolutely divine. The feeling enveloped her, she became the feeling. She was this pleasure, all other aspects of her life were meaningless. She lay inert, still crying, her body trembled, her skin felt the cold air, the warmth of their bodies, the pressure of Jason’s hand caressing it; in short, her skin hummed and her ears heard nothing but the blood surging in them.
‘Are you OK?’ Jason was asking, in a frightened voice. To his eyes, Emma looked to be sobbing. Now she was upset! What had he done? He had been dragged back from a land of delight by Emma’s extraordinary behaviour. She had been swearing at herself. Calling herself names and then choking herself on his cock. He hadn’t seen her hand working at herself relentlessly. He hadn’t felt what she had felt. He hadn’t access to Emma’s fantasies. He had no idea a woman could do what Emma had just done.
Jason just lay caressing her. The poor woman was beside herself, he thought. She continued to cry, so he pulled the blanket over her and let her cry.
Emma had rarely orgasmed like that. She had been brought to tears so few times in her life. The exhaustion she was feeling was complete. She’d been close for so long and the orgasm itself had gone on and on and lingered still. She felt the echoes and phantom orgasms as though in a dream. Her body was just releasing the tension the most efficient way it could. The tears flowed, hot and wet. She would often marvel at the variety of orgasms she could experience. That was the most tense, irritating and tormenting bugger of a build up. And the orgasm itself! Her whole body was vibrating. She’d be sore tomorrow, no doubt. It was a work-out.
She dozed off …
She woke with a start.
‘Jesus! How long was I asleep?’ she asked, somewhat breathlessly.
‘You were asleep?’ he replied.
‘How long have I been lying here?’
‘A minute, two. I don’t know.’
‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t know what I was doing.’
‘What? What? Oh, darling. Mmmmm. Baby. I just came, that’s all. You did nothing wrong. You did everything right.’
Emma crawled up to his mouth and kissed him tenderly and long. She felt him stiffen against her.
‘But you were crying,’ he said disingenuously, suddenly proud of himself and ashamed of his pride.
‘That’s the power of your hot young cock. Thick, long, powerful young cock. I love it. I love your hard,’ she gripped it, ‘thick, beautiful cock. It’s mine.’
She kissed him again. Their tongues were on the same beat, their bodies, hands and desires were entwining again. Emma’s exhaustion had revealed the bare skeleton of her energies and she was inclined to waste these too. Every touch was enabling her to revisit the past. She felt such love for Jason. She wanted him to know just how much she wanted him, how much she appreciated him and how beautiful she thought him.
Her hand was between them, gripping him, her tongue was with his, her body rubbed itself against him. The warmth of their bodies was sweet to her, their shared warmth.
Jason was caressing her bum when he made the warm wet discovery. His fingers slipped on Emma’s come. It was everywhere and it excited him terribly. He rubbed it all over her arse cheeks, kneaded them. But he kept away from the darker regions between them. She could feel him tentatively explore then retreat. She was amazed at the way his inexperience still kept him at bay after all they had done together. He was ever the good boy! He had never touched her there. How she wished he might now!
She wiggled her bum provocatively and moaned for him. She wondered what he might do if his fingers found her arsehole. Could you just feel those blind fingers timidly scouting the forbidden region unaware of the erotic implications? She could almost hear his thoughts as he roamed the known regions of her arse, wondering at the unknown reaches between the lovely fleshy cheeks. He wanted to be there. She knew that. His explorations grew steadily more daring but still remained a distance from his unnamed desire and her named one.
Emma, in the midst and during this long slow aftermath of her orgasm, had forgotten her original aim. She would have readily admitted to herself that she would have to try to give the boy the blow job of his life some other time. She was spent. But she was aware that he was not. His cock pulsated in her hand. It felt hot. It was hot.
All the while their mouths had continued a glorious, meandering kiss, the kind of kiss that is somnolent, more dream than actuality. Their thoughts were fluid, finding their ways under doors and through cracks, dripping and pouring into regions untrammelled by daily concerns. Two tongues, four lips and a million miles of wide ope
n spaces. Jason loved these kisses. He loved to kiss Emma. She always put so much into her kisses. He thought she was never more eloquent than when kissing. He could learn more from one of Emma’s dreamy kisses than from all of his schooling.
But then he felt a change in her. She was readying herself for a goodbye. He could tell. He’d faced so many goodbyes from her. She was always having to break away from his kisses. Jason could kiss for ever. Emma always kissed between appointments.
NINETEEN
Jason wouldn’t let her go tonight. They had till dawn. What did they need sleep for? He held her tightly, rolled her over and lay on top of her. Emma was so surprised she let out a sweet little sound of alarm. He had her beneath him now. He seemed bigger somehow, bulkier, more man than boy. How he had grown! His weight when clothed and safe and just a teenage boy, kissing her on a sunny afternoon, had seemed paltry compared to the weight of her husband. But now, naked, hard, dangerous, with menacing intent, he seemed heavier, more masculine, stubbornly powerful.
All the come in the air, in her mouth, on her hands, on the blanket and all over them, this male scent was stripping what she knew of him and revealing what he was. An adult male.
She had automatically raised her knees. The man he’d become knew what she wanted. Her pelvis shifted and he felt her pussy for the first time. It was pressed against his shaft. Her lips were so wet and soft. Were warm. He too shifted his pelvis and his shaft slid along her lips and he grew so very excited.
He started to pant and, staring into Emma’s eyes in disbelief, slid his cock back up along her very wetness.
‘No, darling. No,’ she managed to say, breaking from one of the most suggestive kisses of her life. He was telling her, using a kiss to do so, what he wanted. If he’d done it, if he’d done it! But no. He had to ask. Damn, damn, damn!
She tried to move him off her. She couldn’t make him budge. He looked into her eyes. She had resolve. He saw it. She tried to move him. He wouldn’t. His cock slid on her lips. He was looking, quite blindly, for something he had never searched for before. His cock head passed right over the entrance to his future. But it wandered too far and passed over it again on the return trip. Emma was delirious. Still her eyes told him no. And still her hands tried to move him off her.
That thick cock of his was discovering other places now. The full weight of him seemed to be present behind him when he came to rest on her swollen clit.
Still her eyes said no. Her legs, on the other hand … They squeezed the boy, the man. Oh, just thrust blindly! Just trust instinct and let your worries go. I need to feel the full width of you in me now! Open me up! I’m willing to be taken. I won’t have it any other way.
Suddenly the boy returned and he rolled off her and lay on his side. His hand ran over her stomach, his fingers marking figures along her moist skin. He cupped her left breast, then her right. Emma felt the cool night air of her skin and also felt the sadness of a missed opportunity. She could but look forward to the day when he might take her and she him without reserve. All these games. All this inhibition and inexperience. But she must be gentle.
She could see his cock standing erect and wanted it so very much but felt powerless. Somehow she knew just how it should be. She was the older woman, she was the experienced entity. She had responsibilities to him even though she shrugged off the responsibilities to state, husband, neighbour and friend. That meant she had more of a responsibility to do the best by the boy. In one move she could steal his right to future initiative.
While thinking such thoughts his hand did something. In one full, swift movement from breast to pussy, Jason gambled a future of maybes against a present of certainty. She was naked beside him now. That was all he knew. He may never have the chance again. He truly felt that.
His fingers were all over her, rubbing her lips, playing with them, curious, sliding on the wetness and then slipping into her. It all happened so quickly. Jason’s eyes were opened wide. He was peaking. He could feel an orgasm building. His fingers were inside her. He hadn’t put in one. No. He hadn’t put in two. No. Three fingers had slid easily into her. Emma had arched back immediately.
To her, this inexperienced teenager’s overstatement was a very welcome shock to her system. And it was a shock to have three fingers unexpectedly enter even when she was drenched and willing, and when she was debauched, and when she had only recently brought herself to a shattering climax. It still came as a shock.
This wonder known as beginner’s luck can sometimes be a harbinger of talent. But sometimes it is luck and only luck. For although Jason had heard mention of the clitoris and had a general sense of its importance to women, he was a little confused about its actual whereabouts. So when he felt a small lump between Emma’s lips, and when this discovery exacted a positive response from her in the form of a low guttural moan, Jason, in all readiness, congratulated himself on having discovered it. He continued to massage it with his fingers and had the pleasure of seeing Emma writhing about and moaning.
He was being quite rough with her. But she was in no mood for the gentle touch. He fucked her now, with his fingers, watching his hand and her face alternately. His cock was bursting. His excitement was such that he felt sure he’d come all over her hip.
He began to hump her hip. But then he got a better idea. He climbed back on top of her, thoughtlessly removing his fingers from her and tried, in vain, to press his cock into her.
Emma found it very easy to get him off her this time and she stood up, marking the end of their night.
She looked down at her lover who was not at all pleased by the sudden cessation of their play. He lay back on the rug, his cock lying large and erect against his body. A beautiful adonis, thought Emma as she looked smilingly down upon him. She picked up the other rug and wrapped it around her naked body. Jason caught one last view of her lovely full breasts and long milk-white legs.
She was unable to keep her eyes from his cock. She hated, truly hated leaving an erect penis. She thought she might just squat over it. Imagine that. Just to squat and have the thing enter her completely. Maybe she’d even turn her back on him and squat. Then it would be just her and the magnificent erection. Back to him. Cock slipping between her lips. She might squeeze tightly against it. No wait. She’d squat but slowly, slowly press it into her arsehole. Imagine that! The boy skips straight to buggery. Imagine that thick hard cock entering her there.
When it was that she dropped to her knees and began sucking again, only Jason knows for sure. Emma and her filthy mind had been too preoccupied to notice silly details like that. But there she was again, arse raised, head down, blowing the boy like the cheapest of cheap whores.
The boy blew into her mouth, his body convulsing and two half-suppressed moans escaping to be lost in the quiet night air.
While Jason lay in the aftermath of this orgasm Emma let the taste of him and the smell of him permeate her senses. She kissed his now flaccid cock with wet lips and tongue and rubbed her wet fingers into his pubic hair. She lay in the sweet regret of having finally sated his young cock. She consoled herself with the knowledge that, from now on, day after day, night after stolen night, it was hers to play with. In her mind she began to reorganise her week around his cock.
While thinking of stealing moments with Jason, Emma took the whole of it in her mouth again. She was just playing, loving the taste and had no further designs on it. She was thinking of the pleasures of teaching the boy how to kiss her between her legs and then thinking of whole afternoons spent sixty-nineing in the manner of their first afternoon spent kissing. She was imagining them coming and coming. What over-indulgence!
Thinking this and playing thus immoderately with his flaccid penis she was surprised to feel the stirring of a new life. She kept it in her mouth and his cock grew and grew, pushing itself deep into her, until it was as hard as ever. Emma realised she’d never get any sleep tonight.
What was she to do? she wondered at the time. The longer she was away from her husb
and’s side the greater the chance of him waking and wondering where she was at such a late hour. And poor Jason. The young perform badly on little sleep. She imagined him at school the next day. She shuddered at the thought of this man being squashed back into the uniform of the boy. What had she done?
But he was in her mouth and she was now sucking again.
Surely the night was still young, came a reassuring voice from within Emma’s psyche.
You’ve only just begun, said another.
Why not remove the boy wholly from the nursery? spoke a third.
Sit on the boy. Fuck him! I’m tired of your games. Enjoy your prize to the full. Stop playing with your food, young miss, demanded a fourth.
Were there no dissenting voices in Emma’s head? Where were the sensible voices? Where was her conscience? Or were these the voices of her conscience? They did seem to speak sensibly. They did have their points.
The temptation to lift herself and sit on this marvellous cock seemed such a slight temptation but for Emma it was becoming one of the greatest she’d yet faced and resisted. She mustn’t take him. He must take her. She mustn’t hand everything to him. A hand-fed, tame beast would be no fun, no fun at all.
Her resolve returned as Jason began to moan. She stopped sucking and stood up. She distracted herself by becoming busied in dressing. Once dressed she looked down upon her lover and her legs weakened. Turning her head to the house she scanned the blackened windows then determined to gather up Jason’s clothes for him.
Jason lay watching Emma. His desire for her was the strongest it had been all night. She was sending him off home. She was pretending to have returned to normal, more normal than she had ever been, in fact. The way his cock felt, the blood having returned, hardening it, pushing into the exhausted cock, the strange pain of it, made him proud. He was reclining on an elbow, naked, whilst Emma stood dressed, holding out his clothes to him, eyes averted. His erection seemed to him to be harder and larger, with that burning sensation one gets when you stretch a sore muscle. Emma wouldn’t look at it. He saw that and liked her behaviour. His cock actually throbbed.
The Secret Lives of Emma: Beginnings Page 10
