Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  “Let him be,” Jack coaxed. “He’s found a new home worthy of exploration.”

  She quivered in his arms.

  “But not tonight. Still, it’s not too early to become comfortable with him. Before we’re done, he’ll explore everything you have to offer.”

  Bobbi Jo tried not to think. His words were surprisingly soothing, but it was his nibbling on her earlobe that helped her relax more than anything else. She let herself soften against him. One of his hands fondled a breast while he rimmed her belly button with the index finger of the other hand.

  “Look at us,” he whispered.

  It was only then that she realized she’d had her eyes closed from the moment he’d stepped up behind her. When had he moved them? They stood in front of a full-length mirror. Why did she feel more naked being exposed to him and herself in the mirror than she had when her eyes were closed? Maybe because she could no longer escape what he was doing to her—what she was allowing him to do to her.

  Jack gave her a half-smile. “Since that was your first orgasm this afternoon, I don’t imagine you have much experience playing with yourself?”

  Bobbi Jo frowned and then understood the import of his words. She shook her head. “Mama said it was naughty. My church said it was a sin.”

  “Is your Mama or your church in this room?”

  “No,” she said, softly.

  “And neither would likely approve of the fact that you came to me with carnal purposes in mind.”

  Again, she shook her head, trying to ignore the sensations gathering at the nipple he twisted between his forefinger and thumb. She drew a deep breath.

  “So,” he said, “first we need you to understand that self-pleasure can be quite enjoyable. Give me your hand.”

  His large hand dwarfed her small one, then he used her fingers to trace her belly button. She nearly closed her eyes, but remembered his admonition about that.

  “Good,” he said, smiling. “You are educable. Spread your feet apart a bit. Good girl.”

  She watched his hand guide hers downward. She’d only tried touching herself a few times before, with little result. So why was she so damp now?

  He covered the back of her hand that now nestled against her pussy and began rotating their palms. She licked her lips. The friction teased something inside of her—that same something she’d sensed earlier that afternoon. Her toes curled.

  “Not bad, huh?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’ll only get better. Let’s probe a little.”

  Bobbi Jo gasped at the sight and feel of Jack pushing her finger inside her. Don’t faint. Don’t panic. She arched her neck, pushing her head harder against his shoulder. That only served to drive her finger deeper.

  “You’re a natural,” he murmured. “I’m glad you waited for me.” He wiggled her finger and guided it in and out.

  “Oh my goodness,” she mumbled to no one in particular. She’d nearly forgotten Jack’s presence. Her entire consciousness concentrated on what was happening in her loins. They were expanding. No. They were contracting. Her hips began to sway back and forth, setting her finger deeper and deeper.

  “Nice rhythm. You’re almost there, like this afternoon.”

  She nodded at his reflection and tried to hold on.

  “Let me help you over the top. Continue fucking your pussy and I’ll take care of your clit.” He tapped it gently.

  “Good God,” she screamed. “Don’t. Don’t stop.” Her loins erupted. She bent at the waist and pushed her finger in as far as she could. Stickiness surprised her. Her vision finally cleared enough for her to see Jack leaning over her shoulder, smiling broadly. Only then did she feel his still-clothed cock riding the crease of her ass

  Jack slowed, then stopped. Bobbi Jo managed to straighten before collapsing against his solid frame. In a single move, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  “Not bad for a first try,” he said. “That may be enough for tonight.”

  “But you didn’t…I’m still a…”

  “We have twelve days, right? And I’m in charge, right?”

  After several minutes, Bobbi Jo’s heart rate returned to normal. She peered up into the two darkest eyes she’d ever known. Why couldn’t she read them anymore? They were opaque.

  She reached out and tentatively tapped at his nipple.

  “So you’re not ready for sleep?”

  She looked down at the large tent still obvious in his sweatpants.

  “Ah,” he said. “You want to meet my cock.”

  She nodded.

  “Go ahead. Pull my pants down. He’s eager to make your acquaintance.”

  Bobbi Jo moved to her knees and tugged on Jack’s pants. Her eyes shot upward at the sight of his cock bursting forth and weaving about as if it were a heat seeker. She wasn’t dumb. By this point, she knew what heat source it sought.

  Mesmerized, she reached a hand out but hesitated.

  “You can touch him. He won’t bite.”

  She ran a finger along the crown. How could something so hard be so soft? She wrapped her hand around its shaft and squeezed. Jack’s moans incited her to further exploration. She pulled down on its head and giggled when the hole opened wider, as if it were another mouth. Was it smiling at her? Or pouting?

  “Jesus, woman!”

  “I thought this was supposed to be pleasurable for you, too,” Bobbi Jo said, glancing back at Jack.

  “I’m not complaining. Don’t misunderstand. It’s like when you’re close to exploding. Well, that’s where he is.”

  “Can I make him explode?”

  “If you don’t, I’ll have to.”

  “Show me how.”

  She sat back on her heels and watched Jack slide his palm up and down his cock. She’d wanted to do that to Nelson, but he’d always resisted. “Let me,” she whispered. “I want to do it.”

  Bobbi Jo wrapped both her hands around Jack’s cock and replicated his movements up and down the shaft. She felt a small wave of triumph when the crown thickened even more.

  His hips began to move in concert “Close, babe. Real close.”

  His crown turned deep red, almost purple. Jack began to convulse. She sensed enough not to slow, and then spurts of white jutted from his cock. She had no warning and couldn’t duck fast enough to avoid much of it spewing across her breasts and belly. The rest pooled on Jack’s stomach.

  “Oh, my. That was something else. Power—raw power.” She sat back and watched an array of emotions spill across Jack’s face as his body relaxed.

  At last, he squinted at her. “Wow. Many women would have stopped at the first sight of come. You continued. Very good.”

  “So does your star pupil get an A for effort?”

  “An A-plus. We should probably get a washcloth for you to clean up. In the future, you’ll use your tongue.”

  “Why wait?” Bobbi Jo ducked to his belly and licked him clean. “Sort of salty.” She smiled as his cock reenergized. She was playing the role of the erotic cleaning lady—maybe she could get into this sex stuff.

  She shook her head. But she was still a virgin. Not much success on that front, yet it was a night to remember. Would Nelson be as pleased with her newfound dexterity as Jack was?

  She slid up Jack’s body into his widespread arms and snuggled against him. Soon his soft snoring soothed her. She closed her eyes and basked in this unfamiliar warmth and sense of security. Her eyes popped wide open. Snuggling with Jack might be more dangerous than having sex with him.

  ~ * ~

  THREE

  Wiping perspiration form his forehead, Jack checked his watch for at least the tenth time. He eyed the deck structure he’d been building. This was as good a place to stop as any.

  He started clearing the area of debris and storing his tools in his enclosed trailer. It had been a tough morning. He was lucky the deck wasn’t lopsided. There’d hardly been a moment without thinking about the foxy woman waiting for him at home.

/>   He’d left for work early after telling Bobbi Jo he couldn’t afford to spend the entire next two weeks with her. Besides, she’d need some down time to rest sore muscles. He planned to work in the mornings and spend the afternoons and evenings as master sex tutor.

  Damn, she had a responsive body. Sometimes stacked meant little or nothing in the bedroom. The best-looking candy wasn’t always the best tasting. He could hardly wait to taste Bobbi Jo.

  Surprisingly, she seemed to be taking his role as master in stride, even to the point of wanting him to grade her. That was easy—A-triple-plus. He’d never expected her to lick him clean. He’d have to be careful, or she would yet try to be master.

  Jack climbed into his pickup. So how had his star pupil spent the morning? Was she practicing without him? That hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe he should devise some homework assignments for her.

  ~ * ~

  Glancing up from her book, Bobbi Jo checked the grandfather clock in Jack’s living room. Twelve-thirty. Jack should be back soon. He’d said he’d be back for lunch. Maybe if she timed this just right…

  She thumbed back through some of what she’d read. The Art of Lovemaking for the Novice had proven to be quite helpful. Diagrams and pictures gave her additional insights into where he might be leading her.

  She’d been quite tempted to lick his cock last evening. It had seemed like the right thing to do. Now she knew it was, and she had a few more clues about how she might best work his cock into her throat. That did sound like a challenge. She frowned. Maybe Jack’s cock was too wide for that? She licked her lips. If it didn’t fit, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t try.

  And how was she supposed to take him in her pussy? Her finger had been a tight fit. And her ass? She shuddered. Impossible. Why would he want to, anyway? Though he did seem quite enamored with her butt.

  Bobbi Jo flipped several pages back toward the early sections of the book and examined a picture closely. Now, that was something she looked forward to trying. He was such a good kisser. Would his lips on her pussy be as electric?

  The throbbing between her legs was becoming familiar. Could thinking about sex make her come? But she hadn’t been only thinking about sex. She’d been imagining his lips gliding across her pussy, and his fingers parting those lower lips. Would his tongue enter her there like it had her mouth?

  The throbbing increased. Her thighs started to hum. She quickly set the book upside down on the sofa and jerked her panties from under her mini skirt.

  Free. She sighed and let her fingers tease her pussy, imagining they were his. Like the night before, she sank a finger into her entrance and wiggled it. Stretching herself, she managed to shove a second one in. Her breathing stalled. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the size of Jack’s penis. She used both fingers to make room for a third. She groaned loudly and her hips began a rhythmic cadence. She gnawed her lower lip.

  The humming turned to reverberations of a thousand drums. Her ears filled and her pussy screamed for release.

  “Don’t stop on my account.”

  Bobbi Jo’s eyes flew open and she flashed Jack the best horrified expression she could muster, but her fingers never stopped moving. There was no way she could pull back now. She spread her legs wider, puffed out her cheeks and came over her fingers. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whimper.

  “Don’t be,” Jack said, his face lighting up. “That was marvelous. I’m glad I arrived in time to witness that. You look so lovely when you come.”

  Through clouded vision, she smiled softly at Jack, who was falling to his knees in front of her. His kisses began below where her fingers still lay buried in her body. “Good grief,” she murmured. “That’s even better than I imagined when I read about it.”

  She withdrew her fingers to give him more space. He licked the full length of her vulva, sucking her juices as he went. He lifted her wide-spread legs over his shoulders and dove his tongue into her opening.

  “Yes,” she squealed. She laced both hands behind his head urging him to do—what? She didn’t quite know, but she surely didn’t want him to give up his quest.

  Jack’s laughter reached her ears as a muffled echo. He lifted her rear and kneaded her buttocks as if coaxing her next orgasm. He wouldn’t have long to wait. He levered her butt back and forth until she was riding his tongue.

  Furrowing her brow, she gritted her teeth, unable to discover the origin of the orgasm until it was slamming her against his face. She pounded his back with her heels, demanding more and receiving more until there was no more. Exhausted, she went limp. His large hands cradling her kept her from collapsing entirely.

  Vaguely, she sensed Jack’s lips covering her labia, and then he sipped her juices. She threw an arm across her forehead. Could anything ever match this moment?

  Gingerly, he lowered her legs from his shoulders and settled her on the sofa. “I neglected to give you homework before I left, but I see you made up for my oversight.”

  Bobbi Jo made a huge effort to collect herself. “Your library is quite informative. You’re not mad at me?”

  “No. I can’t control what you do when I’m not here, and I won’t try to. But,” he gave her a crooked grin, “as I said, I’m glad I didn’t miss out on that. So how many orgasms have you had this morning?”

  “You saw them both.” Feeling suddenly shy, she reached for her panties.

  “Leave them,” Jack ordered.

  She glanced at him questioningly.

  “They’ll only get in the way. I want you open to me at a moment’s notice.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You may find it helpful to be open to yourself, too.”

  “What if we go out?” Her voice quaked.

  “Did you bring longer skirts?”

  She nodded.

  “Wear one of them when we go out, but no bra or panties. Understood?”

  “Yes. Master. Sergeant. Sir.” She stood and gave him a smart salute.

  “Don’t get too sassy with me,” he said, lightly slapping her butt. “Let’s go find something else to eat.”

  Pleased with herself, Bobby Jo followed Jack toward the kitchen. Her timing was perfect. She’d thought she heard his pickup pull into the driveway just as she’d come across the picture of the guy nibbling on the woman’s pussy. He didn’t seem to have a clue she’d been waiting to put on a performance for him. The entire scene had been laid out in the book she’d been reading. There was something to be said for playing out fantasies, even when your partner was unaware of his role.

  Jack wanted to control her for some unfathomable reason. Two could play that game—though she’d have to be more subtle about taking charge than he was.

  ~ * ~

  “Is it the speed or the danger that draws you to racing?” Bobbi Jo stood by the number nine orange race car with its hood up. Jack had brought her out to the track to show her his car. He leaned halfway over the fender, giving her an excellent view of his tight butt. His jeans pockets showed faded wear, about the size of her palm prints. What would he do if she put her hands on him? That would probably be too forward, particularly when he was tinkering with the carburetor.

  “Both, I guess,” Jack grunted, not taking his eyes off what he was doing.

  Bobbi Jo waited and stayed focused on how his butt swiveled each time he turned a screwdriver or moved a wrench. She hadn’t realized how central the rear end was for all kinds of body movement. She frowned. It was sort of the anchor or fulcrum of the body. Odd, she hadn’t given her butt much credence until she’d arrived at Jack’s place.

  She wiggled with the memory of his hands roaming provocatively over her backside. Did he really intend on taking her there? By now she’d read about anal play in his books, but she knew you couldn’t believe everything you read. She squinted until his butt became fuzzy, as if in soft focus. If he planned on exploring her ass, did he expect her to explore his? She wet her lips and followed the rotation of his butt.

  Jack backed out from under the
hood and turned to her, satisfaction written on his face. He wiped his hands on a rag. “That should do it. I’ll start her up. She should purr like a kitten.”

  He revved the engine. Bobbi Jo clapped her hands over her ears. If that was supposed to be the purr of a kitten, it must be a lion. Jack switched off the engine. The resulting silence came as a shock.

  “Hope that didn’t frighten you,” he said, coming to stand beside her.

  “No. It was just loud. How can you stand that for racing?”

  “I use ear plugs. That helps some.”

  “Have you been in wrecks?” Bobbi Jo blurted out the question before she had a chance to censor herself. Why did she have to know that?

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “There’s probably not a driver out there who hasn’t. That’s part of racing.”

  “So you court danger?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “But then, I guess that’s something we have in common.”

  “What? Me? Hardly. I’d never get behind the wheel of a race car.”

  Jack held her chin and slanted his lips across hers. She rose on her toes to greet him. Too soon, he backed away.

  “You’re courting danger by coming to me.” He peered deep into her eyes. “Right?”

  Her pulse quickened. “Maybe.”

  “So tell me about this creep who won’t make love to you.”

  Bobbi Jo balled her hands into fists and pressed them against her hips. “Don’t call him a creep, a bastard or any of those other nasty things running through your thick brain. He’s my fiancé.”

  Jack smirked. “And I’m your lover.”

  “For eleven more days.”

  “Eleven days can seem like a lifetime to an alcoholic. So maybe you’ll become addicted to me.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Maybe you’ll want to visit me from time to time for a refresher course, or so you’ll be satisfied at least once in a while.”

  “Jack.” Bobbi Jo poked a fist against his hard bicep. “You can be impossible, you know. But then, that’s not new. You always were impossible.”