by Jamie Knight
Because she won, Jessica got to choose again, this time going for the Ouija board that looked like it was an antique.
“Are you sure?” Dean asked, taking it from the pile.
“Yeah, it looks neat!” Jess said.
Dean beamed, kissing her on the cheek. I would later learn the story behind the board and the role it played in a particular segment of Dean's family. Apparently, they weren't all rich snobs.
Turning out the lights and lighting candles set into what looked like an antique candelabra, Dean set the mood nicely. As Jess and I watched, he set up the board, only laying our hands down when indicated. He seemed to be taking the whole thing really seriously.
“Who would you like to contact?” Dean asked.
“Mommy,” Jessica said, more calmly than I might have expected.
“O-okay,” Dean said.
I was really proud of him. He stayed calm and played along, all his attention focused on Jess as we tried to contact Simone. According to the board, she was okay but missed us, Jessica taking the news really well, actually seeming just a little bit happier after.
Turning the lights back on and putting the candelabra back in its trunk, it was time for another game. Looking to lighten the understandably heavy mood a bit, I suggested we play Twister — a ridiculous game if there ever was one.
Jess was still too small to get on the mat, there being too much of a risk of her getting hurt, so instead, she was given the vital job of operating the selector chart and calling out the orders. A task to which she took quite quickly, shouting out the indicated foot and hand positions like a pint-sized drill Sergeant.
It started off innocently enough, Dean and I keeping to our own sides. I had done some gymnastics when I was younger and had gone to college on a scholarship for Math and Ballet, so I was nothing if not flexible. Dean took notice of this. Not seeming to mind at all. Even if I was kind of kicking his ass.
Then it happened. An order was shouted, with surprising conviction, that would require Dean to reach down between my widely spread legs to reach the nearest blue spot. His arm pressing up against my pussy as he did so. I didn't think it was deliberate, but he also didn't seem to really mind. I wondered if he knew how turned-on I was. If he could feel the warmth of my eager pussy through both my shorts and my panties. I tried to check and see if he was hard, but I couldn't quite see from that angle.
The next position required was too demanding, and Dean went down like a ton of bricks. Falling flat onto his back.
“Are you okay?” I asked, helping him up, noting the raging hard-on pressing up against the inside of his fancy suit pants.
There was no denying it, we were really into each other, despite our somewhat bumpy start. Both of us realizing this at about the same time, the rest of game day took on a distinctly flirty tone. Dean's voice having a particular ring when announcing that I had sunk his battleship.
We would also hold hands and steal lustful glances at each other whenever Jessica wasn't looking. It was fun, but I wondered if it was really going anywhere.
Chapter Nine - Dean
Gameday had left Jessica pretty tuckered out — despite her protests to the contrary. Picking her up, I took her to her room to tuck her in. Becky had told me what books Jess liked and filled me in on the going to bed procedure in general.
“Is Becky coming?” Jess asked with a big yawn after the second story was finished.
“Would you like her to?”
I had planned on doing this myself but also understood that Jessica and Becky had built their own relationship. I didn't want to push things too hard.
“She sings to me,” the little girl explained.
Suddenly, I had a flashback to being sick in bed, Simone singing softly to herself as she came down the hall with another bowl of chicken soup and glass of orange juice. It wasn't ridiculous to think that she would have sung to Jessica in the womb, and probably after.
“I'll get her,” I said.
“How’s the little one?” Becky asked as I returned to the couch, greeting me with a soft kiss.
“She wants you?”
“She does?”
“She says you sing to her. I've got a pretty decent baritone, but I don't think that was what she meant.”
“Ah, duty calls, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Becky said, shaking a leg out of the room, her sweet ass shaking a bit as well. It could have been an accident, but I wasn't entirely convinced.
While the nanny was gone, I popped into the kitchen to get a few things, getting all set up before Becky came back.
“Well, that was easy,” she said, letting her dark hair fall around her shoulders.
“I wore her down for you,” I joked.
“That you did. She was already yawning when I went in.”
“Here's to a team effort,” I said, handing her one of the flutes of ice wine.
“To a team effort,” Becky agreed before we clinked our glasses together.
We both took a drink, Becky draining her entire glass in one go. I probably should have warned her about the risk of brain-freeze.
“Holy crap, that's good!” she said, looking at the flute in wonder.
“Glad to hear it.”
“What is it?”
“The finest ice wine Ontario has to offer.”
“Is there more?”
I brought up the open bottle from its hiding place beside the couch, figuring she would want more.
“My hero.”
We each had two more glasses, not wanting to overdo it. I certainly knew I could drink a lot more than that without even getting tipsy, and Becky still seemed fine. I subtly ran some tests to make sure she wasn't past the point of no return, mainly after she fell against me, sighing contentedly. My first thought was that she must have been several sheets to the wind.
We started in on the plate of cheese. Each going for the same wedge of gouda, our hands touching on the way. Our eyes met, and everything suddenly became clear. Like a fog had been lifted.
Becky pounced, jumping up onto my lap, so she was straddling me, slowly grinding her crotch against the bulge in my pants. I slipped my hand into the front of her shorts and gently massaged her pussy. Becky threw her head back with pleasure, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
In one smooth motion, she took off her tank top, unveiling her glorious tits. As though I needed any more encouragement, Becky leaned in slightly and stroked the back of my head with both hands as I lovingly sucked on her bright pink nipples.
I stroked Becky to orgasm, holding her tight and kissing her as her whole body shuddered against me. She kissed me deeply. I returned her affections in kind, our tongues dancing gracefully, my fingers still inside her.
Kissing her way down my neck, Becky slithered her warm body sensually down the length of mine until she was on the floor between my knees. At her coaxing, my cock sprung out at her, causing Becky to gasp. Her sound of surprise giving way to soft hums of pleasure as she took my throbbing dick into her hot, wet mouth, sucking as hard as she could while stroking my shaft with both of her small, warm hands.
I was pretty sure she was trying to deep throat but couldn't make it much more than halfway down my cock without starting to gag. I stroked her cheek, letting her know it was okay. She eased up a bit and started sucking in earnest, focusing her attention on the head until I exploded into her mouth. Becky fell back against the coffee table, hand over her mouth, trying to keep all my cum in until she could swallow it all down.
I helped her up, and she climbed excitedly back onto my lap, kissing me as passionately as she had before. Her pussy was so warm and wet; I could feel it through her shorts. Hooking my thumbs under the waistband at her hips, I pulled them down, Becky lifting herself up slightly to assist in getting them off.
I grabbed her bare ass, squeezing it hard as she took me by the cock, angling it so she could ride it easier. She eased herself down onto it, my rock-hard cock disappearing up her tight, young pussy. Getting not fa
r past the head, she suddenly stopped with a wince of pain.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I…I just—”
“Are you a virgin?”
She nodded silently, looking as though she might cry. I held her tight and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. Easing back a bit, Becky gasping softly with pleasure and relief as I moved, I slipped back inside her a lot more shallowly, not wanting to hurt her.
“Okay,” she said, psyching herself up and getting back into position, laying both hands on my shoulders.
Taking her by the hips, I guided her back down onto my cock, stopping just short of her sweet little cherry.
“It's okay, sweetie, just breath.”
Taking a deep breath in, Becky slowly let it out as I slowly slid up into her, popping her cherry. She winched slightly, clenching her teeth, as my cock first broke through, though she seemed to relax once I was through and well inside her.
Returning to her natural state of bravado, Becky wrapped her arms around my neck and started to move. Gradually gaining in confidence, and speed, until she was bouncing on my cock, driving it deep inside her. Her moans and cries were muffled by my lips and tongue as we kissed while I took her virginity.
Finally Becky came, shaking hard against me as my load released deep into her pussy, filling her up, and then she collapsed on me in a spent, panting heap. I held her and kissed her as she recovered, my cock still deep inside her freshly deflowered pussy.
“What was that, sweetheart?” I asked, sure I had heard her whisper something I hadn't quite gotten.
“More,” she said again a bit louder, her voice still little more than a whisper.
“Are you sure?”
“Please, more.”
Taking her by the hips, I slowly eased my cock out of her. Then, scooping Becky up into my arms, I carried her up to my bed, kissing her passionately all the way.
Chapter Ten - Becky
Dean carried me so easily. I wasn't sure if it was because he was that strong or I was that light, but he had no problem getting me from the parlor to his bedroom. He even kissed me while we went. Like something of a novel. He ever carried me hero style. If only he had been wearing a cape instead of a suit, it would have been perfect.
Dean lay me down gently on the bed and started taking off his clothes. First his polo shirt, then his Khakis and then his boxers. Layer by layer, he was revealed to me. I had already seen his cock, of course, but it really wasn't the same as seeing all of him, all at once. He was like a statue come to life. Perfectly symmetrical and nearly uncanny in his attractiveness. Moving with surprising grace, he came back to the bed and climbed on top of me. I felt it immediately. A strange and sudden rush of panic.
“No!”
“No?” he asked, moving to get off me.
“Not what I meant. I still want to. I just—I'm not—I'm still really tight…d-down there—”
“I noticed,” he said with a wink that made me giggle.
“I'm not sure I can handle having you on top. It might, you know—”
“Hurt?”
“Yeah, I'm really sorry.”
“Don't be. You know your own limits. What positions do you think you can do?”
“Oh, most of them,” I said, it coming out like a brag.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I mean, I assume. I am a former gymnast and a trained ballerina.”
“You are not,” Dean said, with absolute certainty.
“Oh?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because, though it would go towards explaining your smokin' hot body, life is never that perfect. Least of all for the likes of me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I hopped up off the bed and went and stood in front of him, my competitive nature taking over. Taking a deep breath for focus, I lifted my left leg up behind my head. Then, leg still up there, I lifted up onto the ball of my right foot. Had I been wearing the right shoes, I likely would have gone up on point, but it was still enough for Dean to break into a heartfelt golf clap.
“Now get over here and fuck my brains out, you fool.”
Throwing me back onto the bed, Dean got up before I could get up, wrapping my legs around his hips from behind and taking me by the hips in a position I had once heard called 'The Wheel-Burrow.” I lifted myself up on my hands in what looked sort of like a weird push-up and mostly just tried not to make too much noise as he fucked me silly.
It still hurt a little, his cock most of the way inside me, but my pussy stretched out, and it started to feel really good. Pulling out at the last minute, he knelt down beside me on the bed, dumping his massive load into my waiting mouth. I had been expecting it this time, and it was no trouble at all to swallow down his entire load. I loved it to be honest. His cum tasted so good, and it made me feel special to be sharing something so intimate with him.
Getting into what I was pretty sure was called to lotus position, Dean guided me over to him and then eased me down onto his cock so that I was basically sitting in his lap, my legs wrapped around his back, and my arms around his neck. Holding me by my sides, he gently showed me how to move. Slowly working myself up and down his thick, throbbing shaft, my pussy holding onto him tight.
My pussy felt amazing. So warm and full, and with the angle, his cock rubbed up against my clit with every move. Though he was still really deep, it didn't hurt at all. I had always heard that sex could feel amazing but never really understood how good until that night when Dean took introduced me to a whole new world of earthly delights.
We both came again, Dean unleashing his load deep inside me, filling me up with a lovely warm glow. We weren't finished yet, though. He still had a lot more to teach me.
Shifting me ever so slightly, so I went into what was basically splits, going across him horizontally. One leg stretched out over the edge of the bed, the other out straight in front of me, towards the opposite wall. Putting one hand down on his thigh and the other on his shin, I soon found my center of balance and was able to bounce pretty well. Pounding his cock in and out of me at a steady rhythm. It wasn't long before I was coming all over his cock.
Turning me around, without even needing to pull out, Dean placed my ankles on his shoulders, and then, putting both hands on my lower back for support, he got up onto his knees and fucked me basically in mid-air.
Giving me a while to recover, Dean had me suck his thick cock again, getting him hard again really fast. I was both nervous and excited to see what he had in store for me next. I couldn't be sure whether it was sheer enthusiasm or a desire to teach me everything he knew, but what we did next was run through most of the rest of the Kama Sutra. Bending me in ways I didn't even know were strictly possible but felt really good none the less. There was nothing like being with someone who had experience to show you your own naivete.
Finally, after what felt like what must have been my two-hundredth body-rocking orgasm, Dean let me rest. Lying face down on his bed, a sheen of sweat covering me like a gentle morning dew, I had my arms and legs spread wide. The act of lifting my arms being well beyond me at that point. As I lay there, totally spent and utterly helpless, Dean wiped me down with wet wipes from his nightstand, leaving me feeling fresh and clean, my pours opening nicely.
Disposing of the wet wipes, he went into the adjoining bathroom, running the tap for some reason. It wasn’t until he came back into my admittedly blurred vision that I knew what was going on. He already had a straw in the glass. Apparently, being the type to think well ahead when his mind was clear.
“H-how?” I managed after taking a big drink of cold water.
“Used to be a bit of a gadabout. In my younger days.”
“A wha—”
“A nice way of saying man-whore. It was either that or drugs, and it seemed like a pretty clear choice at the time. Then Simone swooped in and saved my ass yet again. Pointed out, very gently, that addictive personalities ran in our family. Which
partly explained why so many of them were, and are, such reprobates. Anyway, she told me that it was up to me to choose what I got addicted to, and it could go in a good direction or a negative one. Turned me right around that did. I started focusing on my schooling over all else. I sometimes even forgot to eat, but I ended up with a Master's of Computer Engineering with first-class honors.”
He went quiet then. I wanted to ask what was wrong but didn't get the chance. Without a word, he put the glass down on the night-table and started putting his clothes back on before leaving.
Chapter Eleven - Becky
I woke up alone. I hadn't had the strength, physically or emotionally, to go after Dean when he left. The optimist in me was hoping he would just go for a walk around the mansion or something and then come back. The demonic power chords roaring from down the hall strongly implied this hadn't been the case. Had he been playing all night? How had he not woken Jessica?
The pessimist in me wondered if it had been his plan all along. Put me through the sexual wringer, so I wasn't in any shape to question him and go and do what he was going to do anyway. It was difficult to tell with my boss. He was about as easy to read as James Joyce in Mandarin.
Jessica wasn't in her bedroom. I knew I had sung her to sleep the night before and couldn't think of where else she could be. Actually, no. I could think of a lot of other places she might be. None of which I particularly wanted to contemplate.
Pushing down the sudden, cold panic, I went to the playroom. It was her favorite place as far as I knew and was the first place I could think of to go. Intelligence must have run in the Devon bloodline as well as madness because there Jessica sat. She was hosting one of her famous tea parties with noise-canceling headphones on her ears to block out the noise.
I scooped her up and held her close, trying to calm myself down. She was safe.
