by Dawn Steele
He kissed her again, and she responded. Her lust for him rose once again, and that clenching, compressing feeling of need in her pussy that she had felt in the theatre returned in full force. Before she knew it, he was tugging at her buttons once again, undoing them one by one. He ripped off her blouse. Her bra was underneath and her very large mounds exposed.
He took the sight of these in like he had never seen a woman before.
“Ohhhh,” he moaned. “I’ve dreamt of tits like these.”
His hands circled both the mounds and gripped as much as flesh as he could get into them. A thrill shot through her nipples and she cried out softly.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked in concern.
“No.”
“Tell me if I’m hurting you at any time and I will stop, OK?”
“OK.” But she didn’t want him to stop. The sensations swarming her nipples were too enticing, too sublime. She wanted her breasts to spring free. The feeling of being desired and admired for her beauty was so intense, so liberating.
He unclasped her bra. Now that she was sure he found her beautiful, something within her had sprung and released the trap of her insecurities, her fears, her hidden passions. Her breasts were freed – the glorious, gorgeous mounds that she had only ever found too embarrassingly big.
But Kyle was voraciously taking them in with his eyes as if they were the second coming.
He pushed her down on the soft leather of the recliner. Now with her blouse and bra off, her skin could take in every nuance of the fine, cool leather. Kyle placed his mouth around her right nipple and sucked as though to tease the very milk out of them. His lips were soft and insistent and his mouth was very wet. He sucked, and with every pull of his inner cheeks, she could feel her womb contract.
Oh, but she was coming very close to orgasm just by being suckled!
He continued to work at her right nipple. At the same time, his hands massaged and teased both her breasts to plump them up. His tongue trailed all sorts of patterns on her electrified flesh. Both her nipples were engorged beyond anything she had ever felt before.
“Ohhhh,” she cried out softly. Tears blurred her eyes. She could only see the top of his dark head as he unrelentingly savaged her nipple. Her hands came up to caress his head, his hair, the hot flesh of his neck.
He transferred his mouth to her other nipple. Her vigorously worked one was tingling and glistening all over with his wetness. There was something really primal about his need to suckle her. His teeth grazed her sensitive flesh now and then, causing her to gasp.
He unbuttoned his shirt and tore it off. His body was toned and lean. Not too muscled, but just right. He reached for the fly of his jeans.
“Wait,” she said, hesittant.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
It was the first time he had used an expletive in front of her, and she gasped.
He grinned. “Pardon my French, but it’s the way I talk when I get excited. I just want to show you my cock.”
She had never seen a man’s cock before in the flesh. Her mouth went dry when he unzipped his pants. His cock sprang out like an uncoiling snake. He was very, very erect, and the eyelet of his penis stared at her. Her first full frontal! She could almost faint.
He licked his lower lip. “Would you like to touch it?”
She was almost afraid to. Would she hurt him? Would it bend?
“Take it,” he urged her. “Go on. It’s hardier than it looks.”
When she didn’t move, he took her hand and gently guided her to his shaft.
“Go on. Touch it. Hold it.”
Her breath was caught in her lungs when she gingerly grasped his penis. It was thicker than she thought it would be, but not so thick that she couldn’t circle her palm around it. It felt hard and yet yielding at the same time.
“Look,” he said, grasping her hand which was grasping his cock. “Stroke it. It feels great that way.”
His strong hand guided hers to massage his shaft up and down, right up to the tuft of his pubic hair. His balls were a tight sac beneath this tuft.
“See this? This is called the head. It’s very sensitive.”
He moved their compressed hands towards his head, which was a bulbous terminal which sat atop his shaft. This was softer and springier to the touch. He was breathing hard. His hand left off, and she stroked and squeezed his cock head, and then back to his shaft. Back, forth, back, forth.
He tipped back his head and groaned. “Oh God, don’t stop . . . don’t stop.”
She was getting the hang of this. The fact that she could excite him empowered her. She pumped and milked him for all he was worth, until his hands were groping her forearms, and then her hair, and her breasts again.
“Ohhhh,” he groaned. “I want to do something. Don’t worry, it’s not fucking. I’m not even going to take off your pants.”
“OK.”
He pressed her down against the long seat of the recliner again. His cock was harder than ever. He seized both her voluminous breasts and squeezed them together.
“Most beautiful tits I have ever seen.”
He positioned himself above her. His cock was pointing straight at her face. He inserted his dick in between her breasts. Making sure that her mounds were pointing upwards and the valley between them was but a crevice, he began to piston himself back and forth, using her flesh for friction.
She had never experienced anything so erotic in her entire life. Her pussy was creaming down there, and true to his word, he hadn’t even taken off her pants.
He started going faster and faster. His face was flushed and sweat dotted his upper lip. His pupils were extremely dilated in his blue, blue orbs. His breathing came out harsher and harsher, until he was grunting with each thrust.
She couldn’t help crying out too. The rod between her tits was very hot, and he kept on going faster . . . and faster . . . and faster . . .
His fever infected her, and his movements became so fast as to become a blur. As he pumped in and out between her globes, he tweaked and massaged her nipples so that the sensations in them shot straight to her groin. His intensity rose, as did hers, until it reached a delirious pitch.
He came, spattering his semen all over the front of her chest and in the valley between her breasts. It was her first time watching a man shoot, and she was amazed to see how much of it there was. His face contorted. As the stream subsided, he let go of her breasts so that the divider between them was widened.
He was panting as he lovingly wiped off his sperm from her glistening skin.
“God, that was so good, Jessica.”
He leaned down again and kissed her lips.
“There’ll be more next time,” he promised. “Different things. Better things.”
She believed him.
“But right now,” he said, “I just want to lie next to you and hold you.”
She made room for him to snuggle on the recliner next to her. Their sweaty skins were touching one another’s and he buried his face into the crook of her neck. His arm came around her waist. It was incredibly romantic. Both of them smelled of sweat and sin and sex.
He was silent for such a long while that she turned to gaze at him. His eyes were closed and he was fast asleep.
So this is what it means to have a boyfriend, she thought. All the things she had been missing out on . . . and it was every bit as good as the books portrayed it to be.
I love you, Kyle. You don’t know it yet, but I love you.
She fell asleep in his arms that way.
THE CUP
It was late afternoon when Jessica woke up. The smell of sex was still pungent in the air, and she knew she had to take a shower before she went back. Kyle was draped across her body. He snored slightly. The orgasm must have worn him out.
Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry as hell, but she never felt better. She was a smorgasbord of elation and exultation and ‘I feel incredibly powerful’ triumphant. I’ve had sex with a man! (W
ell, kind of.) I could make him come! He finds me incredibly attractive!
Kyle was so peaceful that she didn’t have the heart to wake him up. But she wanted to be clean and ready for him when he woke.
In fact, she wanted to make him something to eat. Her heart was brimming full of love as she gazed at his beautiful face in repose. She gently and very slowly disentangled herself from him, taking care to move his hand away from her waist.
He stirred and murmured something, and she froze. Then he turned to face the other side. She didn’t dare breathe for fear of waking him. He soon settled into a sonorous rhythm of breathing again. He was so beautiful to look at. So lean and sculptured, like an artist’s model. His cock lay curled between his legs. She remembered what it did earlier, and she blushed, still feeling the stickiness on her chest.
She waited until he was deeper in slumber, and then she padded towards the bathroom. The one adjacent to the living room was a pristine study in checkered black and white. A used towel lay near the sink. She studied herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and her skin above her breasts was glistening. But her cheeks were in high color and her eyes were sparkling with light.
She had never been happier.
There was no shower cubicle in this bathroom, and so she went searching for another. His bedroom door was open. She was a little hesitant to breach it. After all, he hadn’t brought her in there yet. But she figured it would only be a matter of time before he was fucking her on his bed.
She stepped in.
The bedroom was a little messier than the lounge, which indicated he probably spent most of his time here. Some books were strewn on his desk, as was a silver-framed photo of him with several people.
Jessica picked the photo frame up. This had to be Kyle and his family. A younger version of Kyle flanked an older man which she presumed to be Kyle’s father. Kyle’s father was a handsome, very imposing figure and Kyle’s brother was an almost twin, except for the crueler twist in his mouth. Kyle looked commanding, and yet gentle, but his brother seemed ruthless. At least, that was just from their looks.
Kyle’s mother was conspicuously absent. But Kyle mentioned she had died of cancer when he was little and so Jessica did not expect her to be in any of the more recent photos.
Other than the photo on the desk, there were no other personal effects. She felt guilty for snooping anyhow. She went to the bathroom, which had far more toiletries than the other one. There was a shower cubicle encased in glass and a bathtub. Thank goodness. His bathroom mug sat on the marble table top, in which a sloping sink was embedded. It was a cute mug with a 3D theatre mask on its surface.
Her mouth felt raw and so she picked it up to rinse. Inscribed at the back of it was:
‘FIRST PRIZE FOR BEST ARTISTIC DUO,
KYLE AND CALEB ATREIDES
DRAMA CLUB, 20__ ’
This gave her pause.
Didn’t he say his name was Smith? Lyla’s warning came back like the tolling of a bell.
Kyle Atreides. Caleb Atreides. Yes, they sounded as though they could be brothers. Was that why Lyla couldn’t find anything on him?
She was snooping on him. She shouldn’t be snooping. But why did he lie to her about his name?
She heard him stir outside and hastily put the mug back.
“Jessica?”
He hadn’t seen her completely naked before, and so she didn’t know if she should shed her clothes and step into the shower. As a result, she froze as he came in, gloriously naked.
He was smiling. His hair was tousled and his cock was dormant between his legs. But not for long. His eyes lit up as he took in her naked breasts and his penis started to harden.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said as he came to her.
If she had any misgivings, all of them were wiped out as soon as he held out his arms. She went into them gladly, and they started kissing again. His cock pressed against her belly.
“Let’s have a shower together, shall we?” he suggested.
When she hesitated, he quickly added, “I’ve seen you half-naked already and you’re beautiful. Don’t be afraid I won’t find the rest of you just as beautiful, if not more so.”
He kissed her, long and passionately and deeply, and everything in her melted again – all her suspicions, all her doubts, all her fears. After a few glorious kisses, he unbuttoned her pants and slid them off, still kissing her. Then he eased off her panties.
She stood there before him, as naked as he was, and blushed as he gazed with rapture upon her body. He took in her pussy, covered with its thatch of dark fur. Dread crept into her heart until he smiled.
“Beautiful,” he pronounced. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
He gave her his hand and they stepped inside his shower cubicle. Everything else was forgotten as he turned on the shower and the warm water pellets started to fall on their heads, draining all her cares away.
THE CALL
Kyle had just dropped Jessica off at her college dorm when he got the call. The display on his cellphone showed the photo of his father at a much younger age, the way Kyle liked to remember him.
Sighing, Kyle picked the call up. “Yes, Dad?”
“Dinner tomorrow night.”
It was on the tip of Kyle’s tongue to say, “I have plans”, but he knew what his Dad meant.
It was now or never. He had rehearsed it in the shower when he had been soaping Jessica’s back.
I made a mistake about the girl. She isn’t a virgin.
I’ll find you another virgin, Dad. I know I’ve only got four days, but I’ll do it.
“Dad, I have – ”
“Eight o’ clock. Don’t fail our clan, son.”
The words Kyle was going to say froze on his tongue. Right. He had duty. Responsibility. His clan’s fate to put before his own needs . . . and that of one hapless virgin’s. Surely he could rise to the occasion.
He closed his eyes and channeled his inner steel. For the greater good.
But oh, Jessica, Jessica. He was truly alive whenever he was with her. He felt better, stronger, more powerful and happier when he was with her than he had been for a long, long time. She was good for him.
But it can’t be real. She was human, and he wasn’t.
It was a passing infatuation, nothing more. One he had to shed himself of rapidly or the consequences would be dire.
When he opened his eyes again, he said, “OK, see you tomorrow, Dad.”
“Both of you.”
“We’ll be there,” he promised, his heart sinking when he realized how unworthy he was to be Jessica’s lover and his father’s successor.
SNOOP
Jessica thanked her lucky stars that Lyla was out with Stuart. She could use the computer in silence without Lyla peering over her neck every few seconds and demanding to know what she was up to. She loved Lyla, but this act she was about to perform now felt deceitful.
Still, she needed to do it, and she was not going to tell Lyla, because her best friend would only say ‘I told you so’.
She typed ‘Kyle Atreides’ in Google Search.
Out came a few items.
One was a photo of Kyle’s father with the mayor. They were both smiling and shaking hands. A younger Kyle was in the background, looking respectful. The caption said:
MAYOR CARTWRIGHT SEALS CITY HALL DEAL WITH BILLIONAIRE ENTREPRENEUR, JERICHO ATREIDES. HIS SON, KYLE, LOOKS ON IN THE BACKGROUND.
So he was Kyle Atreides. There were a dozen different possibilities as to why a billionaire’s son would lie about his name, of course. He probably did not want fortune hunters after him until he was very sure of them. He met her on a website and he probably wanted to see how genuine she was until such time he would reveal his true self.
Yes, that had to be it.
And she would prove to him how genuine she was. To be honest, the money was just icing on the cake. She would have loved Kyle even if he were a penniless scholarship student like herself.
<
br /> Love.
She was using the word confidently now. She did love Kyle, honest be to truth.
‘Kyle Atreides’ appeared in more websites and blogs, such as that of his Princeton alumni. His photos were all handsome and smiling – the very picture of a young man who had the world at his feet. Jessica’s heart swelled every time she saw his photo. He was hers. He had made love to her.
Then a Google news item from a few years back caught her eye.
It said:
BILLIONAIRE QUESTIONED IN GIRL’S DISAPPEARANCE
Jessica saw the bolded words JERICHO ATREIDES under the description. Her curiosity piqued, she clicked on the link. A webpage loaded, and the photo inset was that of Jericho Atreides.
‘Emily Watson, 18, went missing on the night of ________ . She had gone to the prom with her best friend, Katie Greer, 18.’
Emily Watson’s photo came next. She was an obese teenager. Pretty, with a chubby face and dimpled cheeks. But huge. Bigger than Jessica ever had been. She wore a lapis lazuli necklace in three colors, which Jessica thought did not fit her well because it emphasized her rather fat neck.
‘Katie said, “She got a call midway into the prom. She had been all excited like about this new guy she met over some website. She wouldn’t tell me about him until they, you know, gelled some more. Then she was gone.
“I didn’t know she was missing until her mother called me the next morning and asked if Emily had gone home with me.”
An anonymous source tipped the police off. Emily Watson had allegedly been seen going into Jericho Atreides’s car, a distinctive black Jaguar.
Upon questioning by the police, Jericho Atreides said, “I have never seen this girl in my entire life. I find it irresponsible of the police to blindly follow any anonymous lead presented to them without any evidence. I have plenty of enemies in the business world who would like to see me toppled and my company’s stock prices to fall. I urge the police to be more responsible in their line of investigation.”
