by Amy Brent
“Jake,” I moaned. I couldn’t open my eyes to see his face, but I knew it was him.
In an instant, the heat I had been swathed in was torn away. In its place were icy cold fingers splayed across my stomach. My fantasy faded away and I was suddenly in the real world. The gooseflesh popping out over my skin from the cold touch told me I wasn’t in a dream.
I shrieked and opened my eyes to find Jake staring down at me. His freezing cold hand was pressed against my stomach moving upwards. I gazed at him and saw lust in his eyes. I didn’t move. I was afraid he would stop if I attempted to give him better access or touched him in anyway. That same cold hand grabbed my breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple, making it stand up in a hard peak.
“Were you dreaming about me?” he whispered, staring into my eyes, his hand moving to my other breast.
“Yes,” I breathed out.
He dropped to his knees beside the couch and slammed his mouth against mine. It was a forceful, demanding kiss. I opened my mouth, giving him full access. His tongue swept inside, raking over my teeth before dueling with my own tongue.
His hand stayed on my breast kneading and pulling, pressing and tweaking the nipple. The heat I had felt earlier returned, despite the cold air that clung to his clothing. My hand went to his head, pulling his mouth deeper against mine. I wanted to swallow the man whole. My back arched up, pressing my breasts against his chest, trapping his hand with the movement.
“Do you want me, Calla?” he asked, moving his mouth over my jaw and down my neck where he sucked hard before using his teeth.
I jerked with the pain that was quickly replaced with pleasure as he kissed the area.
“Yes, Jake. Please, I am desperate to have you.”
“How do you want it, Calla?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t think straight with his mouth sucking and biting the most sensitive part of my neck.
“Tell me or you get nothing,” he growled, squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb.
“Here. Now. I need it. Please,” I moaned, unable to form complete sentences.
He pulled away from me, rising to his feet.
“Don’t,” I cried out. “Don’t stop.”
The fierce look on his face should have scared me. It didn’t. It only excited me more.
“I’m not going to stop. This is your last chance, Calla. If you don’t want to do this, you better tell me now.”
I sat up, nodding my head. “I want to. I want this. I want you.”
His nostrils flared. He reached out both hands. I put my hands in his. He jerked me off the couch to my feet.
“Then I need you naked,” he said a split second before his mouth crushed mine. His hands moved to the elastic waistband of the long johns and pushed them over my hips. His hands moved to cup my ass. “I love your ass, Calla.”
He squeezed and then released my butt to push the pants down further. His lips pulled away from mine as he dropped to his knees in front of me. I only felt a slight bit of embarrassment as his face lined up with my stomach, so close to my bare pussy.
“Sweet Mary, Mother of God,” he cursed.
I looked down to see him staring at my pussy. I was ever so thankful I had my monthly Brazilian wax before I headed up here. Blake was not the type to appreciate or even notice the effort it took to keep things nice and tidy, but I could see Jake was very appreciative.
He leaned forward, his hands still holding the pants around my knees, and gently kissed the top of the strip.
I shuttered in ecstasy at the butterfly soft touch of his lips against mine. Another kiss, a little lower followed by another and another, still painfully soft. I was shaking with need, unsure I could stay standing another minute. He looked up at me and I could see a fire burning.
“Sit,” he ordered.
I nodded and slowly sat down on the couch, pushing the blanket onto the floor. Within seconds, he had removed the pants along with the thick socks. He used one of his legs to push the coffee table back and out of his way. Then his hands were yanking the shirt over my head, leaving me completely nude, exposed and vulnerable. My heart raced in anticipation. I waited for him to strip, dying to see him naked.
He leaned back on his haunches, his hands on his lap and just stared at me. The slow perusal of my body should have made me feel self-conscious, but the way he looked at me made me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. I licked my lips, tasting him had left me wanting more.
“Jake,” I whispered his name. “Jake, I’m so wet. I need you. Take away this ache I feel,” I begged.
His hands went to the back of my knees, yanking me forward in one quick jerk. My ass was suddenly on the edge of the seat.
“I’m going to feast on you first, and then I am going to fuck you. Understand?”
I vigorously nodded my head, my knees coming together involuntarily.
“No!” he shouted pushing my legs open wide.
I gasped at the violent motion as his strong arms pushed my legs wider, leaving me completely open. I instinctively tried to close my legs, but he used one palm on the inside of my thigh to push back. He yanked me forward another couple of inches and lowered his face to my core.
“Oh God,” I moaned as his breath washed over me.
He kissed the lips before running one finger up my split, separating my lips first with his finger and then his tongue. I screamed. I had been aching with need for so long that even that small action had my juices seeping.
“You’re so wet,” he breathed into my pussy as he inserted one finger.
My eyes closed as my head dropped to one shoulder, unable to expend the strength to hold it up.
“Look at me, Calla. Look at me licking you,” he demanded.
My eyes went to where his blonde head was seated between my legs. His tongue lashed out and pushed inside my entrance. I screamed and rocked up into his face with my pussy as the orgasm crashed over me. I could feel his tongue dancing inside me as my juices flowed.
“That’s a girl,” he said pulling his mouth away and looking up at me.
I could see his lips glimmering with my juices. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. As I watched him, he stuck a finger inside me and started to stroke in and out.
“I’m not done, Calla. I’m still hungry,” he said in a husky voice.
“I,” I started to protest, but stopped when he pulled his finger out and stuck it in his mouth and sucked.
“You taste so good.”
His mouth closed over my pussy once again, licking and thrusting his tongue as far as it would go. I could feel another orgasm building and tried to warn him. I put my hands on his head, my fingers threading through his hair with the intention of pulling him away, but ended up pulling him closer.
“More!” I shouted, yanking his head back and forth and shoving him between my legs.
His teeth latched onto my hard nub.
I screamed at the mixture of pain and exquisite pleasure that tore through my body as another orgasm pulled me into its grip.
I lay convulsing half on and half off the couch when I was jerked forward to a standing position. His mouth was on mine and I greedily tasted my own juices from his mouth. My hands moved to his shirt hem, tugging it upwards.
He stepped away from me and yanked it over his head before undoing his jeans and jerking them off, followed by his briefs. I stared at his jutting cock and felt a sliver of apprehension, but it was quickly replaced by excitement.
“Come here,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me around the couch.
“What?” I asked, but didn’t have to wonder when he spun me around, my back to him and my hands on the back of the couch.
His large palm smacked my ass, causing me to yelp and jerk forward. He roughly grabbed the stinging cheek and squeezed. Then his mouth was on the back of my neck, nibbling and kissing a trail down my neck and over the back of my shoulder.
I reached a hand back and encircled his giant cock, realizing
he was far bigger than I remembered. I wasn’t all that sure about male anatomy, but I wondered if dicks grew as a man aged. I gripped it tightly and felt him jerk forward.
“Bend over,” he ordered.
I quickly obliged, taking a few steps backwards and leveling my back parallel with the floor, my hands gripping the back of the sofa. I braced myself for his invasion. Nothing.
I looked over my shoulder to see him staring down at me. The look on his face had me growing wet all over again. One hand snaked out and reached between my legs. His fingers moved over my pussy lips before, sliding one in. I pushed back, wanting the finger deeper.
“You’re wet. Do you want my cock?”
“I do. Yes, please, I’m ready. I can take it,” I promised.
“I don’t know. You’re so tight, I can feel your pussy squeezing my finger.”
I closed my eyes and focused on contracting the muscles around it. “Mm-hmm,” I moaned. He pushed in a second finger.
“Better?” he asked.
“More,” I begged.
I felt him move close and shivered in anticipation. My legs were so weak, I wasn’t sure I could support myself much longer. I felt the head of his dick probing my entrance. I gasped and then held my breath as he pushed in slowly. My head fell forward at the sensation of him filling me, my pussy muscles expanding and contracting around his dick.
“Jake!” I shouted. “Jake!”
He pushed in until I could feel his body pressed against my ass. He didn’t move. He stood there stock still, his steel rod pushed high inside me.
A low keening sound escaped my lips as my body contracted around his nonmoving dick. I was stretched and full, and my pussy loved it. It was swallowing his dick deep inside. I felt the orgasm working slowly through my body. The spiraling sensation started in my toes and spread throughout every nerve ending.
“I’m going to cum,” I warned him, encouraging him to move.
He didn’t move. “Cum. Do it. Cum hard. I want to feel your juices on my cock.”
My head thrashed and rolled as my body vibrated around him. I couldn’t believe the man could make me cum without even moving.
Once the spasms slowed and my body felt whole again, I moved against him, encouraging him to take his own pleasure. The movement tickled the already raw nerves deep inside my pussy.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “I’m going to cum again,” I wailed out in disbelief.
His hands moved to my ass, spreading my cheeks and pushing just a tiny bit deeper. It was all I needed to find new, more intense pleasure.
“More,” I begged. “More, just a little more.”
He slowly pulled back and then rammed into me with such force the couch slid across the floor a few inches.
I screamed. “More!”
He thrust again and then again. I was no longer able to speak and simply held on to the couch for dear life as he slammed into my body over and over.
Another shout of ecstasy crossed my lips as another orgasm moved over me, finding nerves that had somehow remained untouched during the first orgasms.
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Fuck! Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my dick so hard. You’re so tight!” He yelled from behind me as I felt him jerk and go still, followed by the hot spurting deep inside me.
His face collapsed against my back, his hand around my waist offering me some support. He pulled out and stepped away. I was too weak to move. I fell forward on the couch, sliding over the back and onto the cushions.
Jake came into view, picking up his clothes and quickly dressing. I lay nude and sprawled on the couch. My arms and legs felt disconnected from the rest of me. My pussy was tingling and seeping juices that ran down the inside of my legs. I knew I should get dressed or cover myself at least, but I was spent.
The man who had been so hot and dirty was gone. In his place was Soldier Jake. He picked up the blanket from the floor and covered me.
“I’ll make dinner.”
I stared at him. I couldn’t form words or move, let alone make a meal. The man had fucked me to the extreme.
Chapter Fifteen
Jake
I didn’t feel guilty about what I had just done, but I couldn’t shake the feeling it hadn’t been right, either. Now I needed to focus on getting my mind off the images of her naked body convulsing with the multiple orgasms I had given her. I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths as I tried to right my world.
She was just too damn responsive. I had been with plenty of women, but never, ever had a woman cum that many times with so little effort on my part. It had intoxicated me. Challenged me to do it again and again. Even now, I had to fight the urge to push my fingers deep inside her and feel her pussy clench around them as her body responded.
I grabbed the potatoes and tossed them in the sink before pouring some of the water into a bowl. The cold water on my hands should help calm the fever burning inside me, but it did nothing. I was still hot and she was still naked. This woman absolutely wrecked me and it blew my mind. I was not prone to such strong emotions. I fucked, I orgasmed, and I left. But this situation was different. I couldn’t leave. She couldn’t leave. I had to face the woman, which worried me a bit. Facing her wasn’t the problem. Keeping my dick out of her was.
I heard her moving around behind me, but didn’t turn around to look at her. I wanted her again and I knew that would lead to me wanting her again after that. I stopped scrubbing the potatoes. How many times could we have sex before the search and rescue team showed up?
“Pull it together, Jake,” I whispered to the potatoes in the sink.
“Did you say something?” she asked, in a lazy voice.
“No.”
I could hear her shuffling around again and knew she was getting dressed. That was probably a good thing. Bummer.
I grabbed the potato peeler from the utensil drawer and started furiously peeling potatoes. I was starving.
“I’m starving,” I heard her say, echoing my sentiments.
“Me too,” I grumbled.
“I bet. You worked hard.”
I stopped peeling. The woman was going to kill me.
“Outside.”
“What?” I asked, my brain was muddled. Sex with her had scrambled my brain.
“You worked hard outside. All that shoveling and chopping wood,” she clarified.
“Oh, yeah. The oatmeal wore off a long time ago,” I agreed.
Fucking her hadn’t helped. I couldn’t believe I had managed to find the stamina to have sex with her. I had thought I was bone tired, but the moment I saw her on the couch, writhing and saying my name, I was lost.
I heard her soft footsteps behind me and steeled myself to be near her. I had to keep my raging hormones under control.
“Can I help?” she asked, coming to stand beside me at the kitchen sink.
“I got it,” I said, more abrupt than I meant. “Sorry. I can do this. Please, you’re a guest, have a seat.”
“Let me help. I need to feel useful,” she argued.
I took a deep breath. She was being normal. I wasn’t.
“Okay, you can peel while I light the burner and get the water boiling.”
“You have propane? Why do you use the woodstove to make coffee? Or the oatmeal this morning?” she asked, in obvious surprise.
I shrugged. “I conserve propane when I can. If I’m burning wood and the stove is heating, it just makes sense to use it.”
“I guess that’s a good idea. Will the woodstove work for these potatoes?”
“No. Too much water. I mean, I guess it would work over time, but I’m hungry and I don’t want to wait that long,” I explained.
She smiled, “I can understand that.”
She wasn’t talking about potatoes and I knew it. The light was fading fast and chopping potatoes in the dark wasn’t a good idea.
“I’m going to grab my lantern,” I said, excusing myself from the kitchen.
“Okay,” she practically
sung the word.
I grabbed a lantern out of the hall closet and turned it on. It provided enough light for the kitchen.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed, when I hung it from the hook I had installed for this purpose. “That is crazy bright!”
I grinned. It felt good to smile. “Yes, it is. LED. They don’t make them much brighter than this.”
She nodded. “I would hope not. You could land airplanes with that thing. I think I’m seeing spots.”
“Don’t look directly at it. I like the light when I’m using a knife. I’ve made that mistake before,” I said, holding up my thumb.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, looking at the thin white scar. “Did you get stitches?”
I shrugged. “Nah, I used a little superglue.”
Her eyes bulged, “What?”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Whatever you say.”
I watched her peel potatoes for a few seconds before leaving the kitchen to stoke the fire and light a few more candles around the place. When I went back into the kitchen, I paused, watching her work. Once again, she was swaying those hips and humming.
“What song is that?” I asked, curious to know.
She giggled, “I don’t really know that it is a song. I think it’s just a mashup of a bunch of different songs to be honest. I couldn’t put words to it if I tried.”
“Oh.”
She slid the potatoes into the pot. “Now what?”
I didn’t consider myself a gourmet cook, but I did know a thing or two about preparing a meal.
“Want to chop that onion. I guess I should have asked, do you like venison?”
I realized she may not be into the game meats.
She grinned, “It’s been a long time, but yet, I love it. What cuts do you have?”
I was surprised she knew the lingo. “Backstrap. We can bread them and fry them up reach quick with some onion if that works for you.”
“That sounds delicious. The more grease the better,” she teased.
Her enthusiasm made me happy. There were few women who would be excited to have fried backstrap, heavy on the onion. I was only sorry I didn’t have something to make for dessert. An image of her naked on my table with whip cream dotting her body popped into my head.
