by jc santo
“Mmm…This is so damn good, J.C.”
Even in her inebriated state, she’s still sexy as can be to me.
“Hurry up and finish eating,” I say as I put my now empty plate in the sink. “All your moanin’ as you eat and that kiss you gave me in the bar are enough to drive me wild.” I lean against the counter and watch her face heat with desire. “And I’m more than ready to take you to bed.”
Jo, being the smartass that she is, doesn’t hurry up and scarf down her food. No, she continues at her slow pace, all the while I stand at the counter holding onto my patience by a tiny thread.
She sits her fork down on her plate with a clatter and adrenaline spikes up in my bones knowing that she’s finished and I can finally strip her out of that tight dress she’s wearing.
I had every intention of taking my time tonight and seducing her; slowly undressing her and giving her a good rub down before I sink my cock into her. But that’s out the window now, any attempt at seduction or romance will have to wait for another day. It’s no longer a want, it’s an unyielding need.
She stands, I assume to put away her dirty plate like I did, but I’m surprised when she just leaves it sitting on the table and unhurriedly starts walking the short distance towards me.
Her hands go to the side of her dress and I can hear the sound of the zipper like a freight train throughout the room. With a snap of a hook, the entire dress, along with her strapless bra, fall to the floor, leaving Jo in only a scrap of material covering her pussy.
“What are you doing?” My voice is suddenly hoarse.
She doesn’t answer, just stops right in front of me and begins unbuttoning my pearl snap shirt. Once she’s succeeded in opening it up, she splays gentle kisses across my pecs and the tattoo along my chest, and down my abs, slowly finding her way to her knees and her hands to my belt buckle.
Lost in the feel of her hands on my body and still stunned by what exactly is happening, I’m at a loss at what to do other than allow her to lead the way. The gentle yet firm grip of her hand is almost my undoing as she unhooks the button of my jeans, reaches her hand inside and grasps my achingly hard cock. Thankfully, I somehow manage to keep myself under control.
It doesn’t last long though.
Jo’s hand firmly strokes from base to tip and back again. The rhythmic pace slowly drives me mad. I have to fight the urge to keep from pulling away from her and taking control of this situation.
“Jo,” I groan. I roll my head back, eyes closed but facing up towards the ceiling, unable to watch her hands working me over any longer. It’s too spectacular of a sight.
All of a sudden I feel her hand at the base once again and something wet at the tip. Her tongue. She unhurriedly licks the end, swiping away the small amount of precum, then sucks my head into her mouth and rolls her tongue around like it’s a fucking lollipop.
Poor Jo, I’m sure she has great intentions for this would-be epic blowjob, but the minute she took me all the way to the back of her throat and I felt her gag a little, I lost what little bit of restraint I had left in me.
I pull her from the floor, walk across the small kitchen and, without a second thought, lay her back on the kitchen table.
Fuck the bedroom. Fuck the romance. Fuck taking my time. All of that will have to wait for next time.
Jo is the only woman able to get me so worked up that I can’t contain myself. One thing I’ll never have to worry about with her is a lack of sexual desire and willingness to give and take with the control in our sex life.
With limitations of course.
She had her little bit of control for the night, now it’s my turn to lead us both over the edge of the sexual cliff she’s set us on.
I yank her panties down her legs, stripping her of the one small piece of scrap material separating me from her fully exposed body, and glide my eyes over her laid bare and waiting for me.
Good God she’s beautiful.
Wasting no time, I slide right into her waiting pussy, the heat of her body feeling like heaven as I fully seat myself inside her.
“Fuck me, Darlin’, you feel so damn good.”
“Move, please, J.C. I need you to move.”
“Yes ma’am.”
My movements start off slow and precise, however it doesn’t take long until I’m recklessly pumping in and out, chasing not only my release but hers as well.
I pepper light kisses to her neck and pull her earlobe into my mouth, slightly biting down and drawing a long groan out of her throat.
“Tell me you’re there, Jo. I need you with me.”
“I’m there, oh fuck, I’m there!”
My hand slides up her stomach and right in between her breasts, where I grip the base of her neck and apply a small amount of pressure, triggering her orgasm to come crashing down around my cock.
The grip of her walls squeeze me as her nails scrape down my lower back, sending a pleasurable pain through me as my own orgasm jolts through my body. We both cry out in ecstasy, her nails dig into my skin and my grip on her neck tightens slightly, prolonging the high we’re both riding on.
Somehow I manage to keep my weight on my forearms during the rush of it all. With my forehead pressed against her collarbone, I huff and puff, patiently allowing my breathing to slow back to a normal pace.
“Fuck, that felt amazing,” I finally say and look up, locking eyes with her.
She smiles sweetly and nuzzles against my chest. Between eating, the alcohol and now her orgasm, my sweet Jo is quickly surrendering to the sleep that’s beckoning her.
“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” At her nod, I do just that. Carrying her to our room and tucking her securely into my side, her head barely hits the pillow before she’s fast asleep.
Jo
I let half of the day go by before I can’t help myself anymore. I tried, I really did. I wanted to turn my brain off and let Marshall handle everything on his own, but I just can’t.
He’s been the nosy one with the best intentions to all of us before, now it’s time for me to do the same.
I grab my phone off the coffee table and shoot off another text.
Marsh: What’re you doing? You OK after last night?
The previous three have gone unanswered. I’ll give him a few minutes to respond before I’m calling in backup.
J.C. has told me multiple times today to give Marsh some space; while he does think that he may need a listening ear, he also believes I need to allow Marshall to come to me when he’s ready to. I don’t agree with that. I want to know what’s going on with him.
After going through depression and suffering through everything alone, or predominantly alone, I know how easy it is to fall into that tunnel of not wanting to burden anyone or feeling as though you deserve being neglected. It’s not an easy path to go down, and I don’t want to watch a close friend go through it.
Checking my phone yet again, knowing the ringer is turned on and I didn’t hear the chime indicating a text, I give up on believing he’s actually going to respond.
Time for that backup. Tessa.
Ring
Ring
Ri—“Hey girl!” She sounds winded.
“Uh, hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Apparently one night wasn’t enough to satisfy Hunter.”
The realization hits me at what I would’ve interrupted had I called a few minutes earlier and I can’t help the blush that creeps up my cheeks.
“So, what’s going on?”
“I uh, well I was just worried about Marshall. He didn’t ride home with us, claimed he would get a ride on his own. I don’t know, T; he was just off all night last night.”
“I noticed he was acting weird. I wish he’d talk to us. I don’t know if his attitude was because of being stood up or what. He was really quiet on the way to the bar; his anger came out of nowhere shortly after we arrived.”
It brings comfort to me knowing t
hat I’m not alone in my concerns for him.
“Look, we’ve both got a lot on our plates right now, and as worried about him as I am, we both know Marsh. He’s gonna have to come to us when he’s ready to talk.”
Although she can’t see me, I nod my head in agreement.
Marshall is very private; and stubborn as hell. If Tess, or any of us for that matter, approach him before he’s ready to discuss what’s going on in his love life, he’ll shut down the conversation quickly.
We make an agreement to stay aware but on the sidelines until Marshall decides he’s ready. He already knows we care about him, but now it’s a matter of staying by his side and being there whenever the time comes that he needs us.
I only hope that this Preston dude is worth all the hell he’s causing Marsh. Whatever his story is, it had better be a damn good one.
I’m sitting in our room watching J.C. get everything ready for work tomorrow; his demeanor seems uncertain and I’m not sure why.
“So, I have a confession.” J.C.’s serious tone instantly sends my defenses up. “I haven’t exactly told my parents about us yet.”
“What do you mean?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean they don’t know that I’m bringing my wife with me to visit. I haven’t told them we’re married, they’re under the impression I’m bringing my friend, Jo, with me.”
My breath leaves me in a heave.
“Seriously, J.C.?”
I feel like an anxiety attack is coming on. My first reaction is to yell at J.C. and then to freak out. Thankfully, talking to the Chaplain has given me different ways of handling my stress.
Climbing off the bed, I walk to the dresser and grab a fresh pair of boy short panties and one of my wife beater style tank tops, then walk to the bathroom and close and lock the door behind me.
As I’m undressing, a knock comes on the door. “You okay, Darlin’?”
“Yes.”
I know it’s childish, but I honestly feel like giving him the silent treatment for a little bit.
“I’m sorry, Jo. I should have told them, but I think they’ll handle the news better if we’re there in person and not through a phone call.”
I don’t respond to him, just turn on the water and adjust the temperature and stream before climbing into a steaming hot shower, trying like hell to wash away the stress that J.C. just accidentally placed on my shoulders.
Fifteen minutes later, I reluctantly turn off the spray and climb out. J.C. is lying in our bed, playing on his phone. When I walk in, he immediately puts it down and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Jo.”
“It’s okay. Just makes this trip even more nerve wracking for me.”
He nods his head, understanding where I’m coming from.
“We’ve only been married a short time. I already feel like everything has been so crazy for us, and now that things are finally settling down and we’ve found our groove again, we have to go to Georgia and spring all of this on your unsuspecting parents.”
“You’ve never met them. You need to trust me when I say to give them a chance.”
I’ll take his advice. I don’t know these people and there’s no point in going into the situation with a negative outlook before I know what to expect.
We lay in silence until J.C. grabs the remote to turn the TV on when I realize I’m still overly worried about Marshall.
“Hey, have you talked to Marsh? I’m worried about him after last night.”
“Will you give the guy some space? He’s probably pissed off and embarrassed after last night. You know he’ll will come to you when he’s ready to talk about it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He kisses my forehead.
“I know I am.”
J.C.
Try as I might, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling of how this meeting will go down.
I’m sure it will only take a few minutes for my mom to come around to the idea of Jo and I. My father on the other hand, might take a bit more convincing.
Whatever the case, I don’t want to let on to Jo that their initial reaction to our marriage may not be as welcoming as her family’s was. The last thing she needs now is disapproval or resentment from my parents.
Since mine and Maggie’s pregnancy fiasco back in high school, and then my quick departure to boot camp, I’ve distanced myself from my parents and my hometown.
Our morning has been hectic; we left Norfolk early and flew straight into Jacksonville, Florida where we picked up our rental car and drove the hour trip up to the small suburb of Brunswick, Georgia.
Pulling into the driveway of my childhood home, my eyes rake over the old place; not much has changed. The sage green house with white trim looks as though it’s had a fresh coat of paint applied to it, but the colors are still the same as when I was a child. It’s the same with the wrap around porch; I can tell the white banisters have been newly painted.
The grass is recently mowed; I’m sure my dad still does it every Saturday; just like he always has. The hedges are trimmed and all of the flowerbeds have fresh mulch and have been groomed.
I’ve told everyone that I used to work for a landscaping company but no one knows my father owns that company. I was set to inherit Collin’s Landscaping & Supply, but I chose to run away from everything after the betrayal by Maggie.
My dad showed a lot of disappointment in me when he found out I had not only had premarital sex, but also got a girl ‘from the wrong side of the tracks’ pregnant. Mom was obviously upset but she’s always been one to see the good in everything, even if she didn’t agree with the terms or conditions. But Dad...well... nothing I ever did was good enough in his eyes.
I got a scholarship for football, he bitched about having to find someone to replace me in the company. I decided to stay home and work for him to take care of my unborn child, he was pissed off that I wasn’t putting my college education as a top priority. When Maggie had the abortion and I was upset by her choice, he acted as though she’d done me a favor.
My leaving for the military was a whole other debacle with him. He wasn’t happy and has made it clear every time I’ve come home to visit. I’m sure now that I’m separating from the Navy, I’ll catch another huge surge of his disappointment.
His attitude towards any, and every, decision I’ve made is part of the reason my anxiety spikes when I come home. I love my dad, I really do. I want nothing more than for him to be proud of me; sadly, I don’t know that I’ll ever hear him tell me that.
“Well, are we going to get out?” Jo asks, pulling me out of my depressing thoughts.
“Uh, yeah, sorry.”
I climb out of the Nissan Altima and walk around to open the door, letting Jo out to join me. I take her hand and lead the way to the front door after grabbing our two small duffel bags from the back seat. Before I can lift my hand to knock, the front door opens and my mom greets me with a warm smile and one of her famous bear hugs.
“Hey baby. How’ve you been?”
“Hey, Mama.” I pull back and wrap my arm around Jo’s waist, pulling her closer to me and drawing the attention of my mom. “This is Jo.”
Mom’s eyes light up at the familiar name. “Oh my goodness! It’s so good to finally meet ya, honey!” She pulls Jo in for one of her hugs, gushing over her the entire time. She tugs her in the house with me trailing behind, laughing at how quick my mom latched onto a woman I’ve brought home. Too bad she doesn’t know all of the details of Jo’s introduction.
I’m long forgotten by Mama and I use the opportunity to take our bags to my old bedroom. The old room is still littered with my high school memorabilia; my queen size bed even has the maroon and navy striped bedding on it still. I slowly make my way around the space, taking in all the memories as they assault my mind.
Seeing the corkboard with random shit still hanging on it, my eyes immediately find the picture of Maggie and I from
junior year. She wore a white sundress with her shoulder length hair down; I was in khaki shorts and a red polo shirt. I remember that day well. It was the end of summer, she and I had just started dating, and we went with a group of friends to Jekyll Island for the weekend. Of course my parents didn’t know we had females going with us, they believed it was a bunch of guys from the football team.
Being here stirs up all the old memories, unresolved feelings, and hurt that she inflicted on me. As hard as it is to be here and experience these emotions, it gives me an insight to how Jo felt and what she went through with her miscarriage. Carrying the weight and all of the guilt on her own.
My thoughts are interrupted by my father’s voice.
“‘Bout time you came home for a visit.”
“Hey, Dad.” I walk over and hold out my hand for a shake which he quickly takes.
“You look like you’re doing well. I really wouldn’t know since you haven’t been home in… how long?”
“Dad,” I say by way of warning. “Don’t start, please.”
He holds his hands up in a surrender gesture.
“Just making an observation. I also heard another voice downstairs with your mother. Jo seems nice.”
Concern courses through my veins at the thought of my father meeting Jo without me there. Dad is very dry and many consider him to be cold and callus. I know it isn’t true, he’s just a very private person and a no nonsense guy. Most people feel stripped bare after first meeting him.
“Dad, please, for the love of God, tell me you were nice to my wi—Jo.”
The urge to call her my wife is brutal; I want this secret exposed. And fast. But I know I have to be tactical in the way I reveal it.
His look of shock is replaced quickly when he condemns me for taking the Lord's name in vain.
I roll my eyes at the lecture I know is coming from my slip of the tongue.
