by Jamie Knight
My imagination had been going pretty wild with what I wanted to do to him and him to do to me. I thought that might end now that we were back in touch but that only made the fantasies more real and intense. They could always strike at any time and one did right then.
I imaged crawling under the table and going over to him. Running my hands up over his thighs, I would have stroked his hard, warm cock through his suit pants, careful not to make it too loud, and haul out his huge cock, his hard-on making it look like he was smuggling salami.
Taking a moment to really appreciate the sight and even the smell of him, I would gently suck his balls while tenderly stroking his gorgeous cock. Right when he was about to cum, I would stop, squeezing the head. When he had settled and we were out of the danger zone, I would lick his cock from bottom to top several times before swirling my tongue around the head, savouring the sweet, warm saltiness.
Eventually, when I had driven him to the point of madness, I would drop my mouth over the head, taking it in. Holding it there for a moment, I would start to suck lightly, not moving my head much, moving ever so slightly down until a full half of his cock was in my mouth.
This is when I went for it, in my mind. Moving my soft lips up and down his throwing shaft. Slowly at first and then harder and harder until I was throat-fucking myself.
I imagined Logan putting a hand on my head to keep me from hurting myself. I imagined cupping his balls, gripping and stroking his shaft and sucking him until the moment of truth when he flooded my mouth with his tasty cum, so I could swallow it all down.
I didn't know why so many of my fantasies featured oral. I had never even really sucked a cock before except that one time I tried to suck Logan’s and he stopped but I sure did seem to want to try it again. Though that well could have been part of it. Want to experience something I never really had.
I had always heard that it was pretty awesome. Not only for the guy but for the person sucking their cock. Kristen, in a moment of candor, had told me it felt surprisingly comforting. Something about the feeling of a hard, warm cock in her mouth helping her to relax. Which in turn helped her do it better because she wasn't worried.
I really hoped that was true. Particularly with what I had decided to do.
"I think, in a way, grandpa dying set me free," Logan said, breaking me from my reverie.
“That’s good,” I told him. “I was just wondering whether that might have been the case.”
Along with wondering about some other things…
I was no longer in any mood to rehash the past, so, that was a good thing.
“I’m glad you understand,” Logan said.
"I do. But, hey, we came here for a good time, right?" I asked, by then horny as hell.
"Right," he agreed.
"So, no more talking about how our lives peaked in high school, okay?”
"Agreed," he said with a smile, "so, a fun time, hey?"
"Right."
"Your place or mine?" he asked.
"Yours. I want to see how the rich live," I said.
"Serious?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.
"What? You don't think I’d really do it this time?"
"Let's just see what happens, okay?" he asked.
Let’s just see, indeed.
Chapter Ten - Kora
We took the bottle of ice wine to go. As luck would have it, Logan's limo was waiting for us at the curb outside.
"M'lady," he said, opening the back door for me.
He waited until I had scooted across the real leather seat to the opposite door. He was right. The seat was rather slippery. When I was securely in the seat, Logan got in, closing high the door behind him.
"Home, Timothy," Logan said to the driver.
The car started up and moved out carefully onto the street. There wasn't much traffic at that time of night so, despite the length, it was fairly easy to go out onto the road and out into the night.
Once we were on our way, Logan reached down near my legs. I thought he was going for me and was just about to spread my legs, making it easy for him, when he reached around me and opened a cupboard I hand't seen before.
He took out two crystal wine glasses. Handing me one, he pulled the cork out of the bottle and poured us both a glass. I had only had one glass at the restaurant and was far from drunk.
The alcohol would help get rid of my qualms and let me do what I really wanted to do but I also wanted to keep my wits about me. I was planning to finally lose my virginity and I really wanted to remember it.
Logan's house was way out in the sticks. I didn't just mean the suburbs. There was actual forest. Trees looming ominously in the dark.
I could have sworn I saw an owl in one of them. The full moon shone in through the open moon roof, lighting us almost as much as the interior lights. Had it been a movie, that would have been the point where Logan revealed himself to being either a werewolf or Batman. I certainly knew which one I would have preferred as well as which seemed more likely.
The limo pulled up to the bottom of the looming marble steps. Logan got out first and came around to the other side to open my door for me, offering his hand.
Helping me out of the limo, Logan closed the door and led me toward the house as the driver closed the other door before driving away and around the rear. I looked up at the steps as we approached, doubting my ability to scale them in heels.
Walking in a straight line was one thing but I couldn't quite see doing a Rocky Balboa. Logan waited patiently as I paused to slip off my shoes, carrying one in each hand. When I was ready, he led the way up the steps, the ancient marble cold and smooth under my bare feet.
The house didn't have a lock in the traditional sense. Logan didn't take out a huge metal ring of keys with only two teeth on the end, as the door suggested. Instead, he took out his wallet and swiped a keycard through a reader built into the wall beside the door.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a small lens, just above the card reader.
"Retinal scanner," Logan said casually, as the reader let out a melodic chime and the door unlocked, opening before us.
"Of course you have a back-up retinal scanner built into the state-of-the-art security system at your centuries old stately home in the woods. How silly of me."
"Fair comment," he said, with a shrug.
I really hadn't been prepared for what I found inside the house, the exterior really giving little indication of the splendor the lay within.
"Did you buy all this?" I asked, wondering at the artifacts of history that surrounded me.
"Hell no. Grandpa did. He felt really self-conscious about new money, so he bought all of this, including the house, to try and give him a air of old world respectability."
"Oh," I said, that really not being the answer I had expected.
I thought his parents’ house when we were in high school was big. I had spent most of my life in apartments, so I guess it made sense. But this makes that house, the one with the Olympic sized swilling pool, look like a shack by comparison.
I was suddenly really glad to have Logan there to get me through it. Otherwise I would have definitely gotten lost, probably never to be heard from again. Just another ghost in the shadows and whisper in the night.
After what honestly felt like hours, or at least an hour at any rate, we finally ended up in the living room. Or I guess what would have been called the parlor back when the house was built.
It, like everything else, was absolutely massive. It looked like everything I had been taught to expect about a mansion. Vaulted ceiling, bookcases so high you needed a ladder to get to the top shelf, a roaring fire.
The sight of the bookshelves set my mind running again. I couldn't help but imagine claiming up it in my dress, looking for a book Logan thought I would like, only to have him hike up my dress from behind and bury his face in my aching little cunt, licking me to a huge orgasm as I clung to the rungs of the ladde
r so I wouldn't fall.
"Sit anywhere," Logan said, going over to the sound system, it being much more than a simple stereo in every possible way.
I was just about to say "how about on your face?" but stopped myself in the nick of time, my cheeks growing warm with the naughtiness of the thought. That was part of the reason I didn't like Logan as much as I also loved him. Just being around him turned me into a total nympho!
Pulling myself together, I went over and sat in the leather lounge chair across from the couch, keeping my legs pressed tight before carefully crossing them, afraid he might find out I had gone commando. Not that the idea didn't give give me a little thrill. I had considered sitting down right next to him on the couch. Hell, I had wanted to but resisted, not sure how long it would have been before I jumped him if I got that close.
Better to keep a physical distance. Particularly since I was failing to keep an emotional one. The positive emotions matching the negative ones were just enough to make it dangerous, probably for both of us.
Logan had always been difficult to read and I really didn't know what he wanted.
Had this all been a ruse so he could get me here and fuck me?
Or was he really as cool as he seemed, wanting to see where things went?
I really didn't know which one was better, the first fulfilling my immediate physical need, which was getting more desperate by the minute, the other showing some real growth on his part. Maybe he really wasn't the guy he was in high school. Maybe he really had grown up.
I decided that the question as to whether this was a booty call or an honest invitation to talk would be answered by the music he put on. Music selection could really tell you a lot about a person and their intentions.
Nine Inch Nails' "Closer" and he really did want to fuck me like an animal.
Some soft classical music and he wanted to drink and chat.
Hozier's "Take Me to Church" and he was likely as conflicted as I was.
The Cure's "Love Song" or even "Just Like Heaven" and I would have to reassess the last seven or so years of my life.
Like so many things in life, it really wasn't that simple. What came out of the speakers was some quite elaborate and surprisingly melodic guitar tones, devoid of either vocals or drums but with this heavy gain and distortion associated with Black Metal from Norway. We could talk with it on. It didn't get in the way, but it would also be a pretty good soundtrack for an epic fuck session.
Logan went over to the minibar, leaving me to ponder the implications of his eccentric musical choice. It was completely unexpected; I’ll give him that.
We had long finished what we wanted of the ice wine, Logan gifting the rest of the bottle to the driver, who seemed quite happy to accept it. That didn't stop Logan from getting out a bottle of very expensive looking red, however.
I didn't really know wines that well. All the French names and types and regions. Where I grew up, there were only two types, red and white, both of them dreadfully sinful and completely off limits.
The first thing I did when I went away to college, of course, was to buy a bottle of wine. I really had no idea what I was doing but had heard the red was better, so I got the least expensive bottle of red in the store. My tastes had refined since that first stumbling, rebellion-fuelled experiment but I still hadn’t really gotten around to learning all the nuances of the thing.
The cork came out of the bottle with a satisfying pop. That was one of my favorite things about drinking wine, other than the drinking itself, of course. Taking out two more crystal wine glasses which seemed to have been stockpiled just in case, Logan poured out a bit each and headed back to the couch, handing me one of the glasses on the way.
I sipped the wine carefully, not wanting to get drunk. He was a bit more liberal with his intake, still not seeming to be affected much by it.
"Would you like something to eat?" he asked.
"All I really want is to fuck your brains out," I blurted, surprising myself with my forwardness.
I didn't usually talk like that, particularly about sex, but I had said it and there was no way to take it back.
"Oh?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow in surprise.
"Y-you don't seem to think I really want to do it. I want to prove you wrong."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Fuck yes!" I nearly screamed, all the pent-up frustration and horniness coming out at once.
Seemingly unphased, Logan put down his wine glass and stood up. His hard-on was then apparent in his pants. Without a word he came over to me and scooped me up into his arms as though I weighed nothing.
I instinctively put my arms around his neck and he carried me up the stairs to his bedroom. The room was as big as the rest of the house and similarly decorated. The bed sat in the middle of the room and was a massive, four-poster deal, the king-sized mattress set into an intricately carved wooden bed frame.
Logan lay me out on the bed and kissed me on the lips. I returned his kissed for a while but then just couldn't take it anymore and basically jammed my tongue into his mouth. Logan took the hint and gave me his tongue as well.
I settled down a bit and we made out that way for a while, like we had when we were in high school. Logan put his hand on my thigh. I gasped but willed myself not to pull away. I wanted this for sure this time and wanted him to know it.
I opened my legs to make myself absolutely clear. Getting the message loud and clear, Logan slid his hand sensuously up my thigh lightly caressing my soft skin, which had grown more sensitive with arousal. Finally, he got to my pussy and I could have cried with joy.
Softly he massaged my pussy lips while continuing to kiss me the way I liked. When I was ready, he slipped a finger deep inside me. I gasped and jerked, unable to keep control, the shock of him finally touching me being too much.
"Are you okay?" he asked, breaking the kiss.
I nodded quickly, unable to speak. Logan kept going, moving his finger inside me. I closed my eyes and moaned again, loud this time, my pelvis raising slightly off the bed. He stopped again. I almost cried, this time in tragedy.
"A-are you still a virgin?" he asked.
I nodded again, tears actually coming to my eyes. It had been so long and I wanted it so much. I really didn't want him to stop.
"Oh," he said, not sounding like he wanted to stop at all. "I'll be really gentle."
"You don't have to. I mean, it's really not a big deal. I just really need to fuck. You can do whatever you want to me."
I probably didn't need to add that last part, but I really wanted him to know that I, for one, wasn't teasing. I really wanted it and wanted it right then.
He kissed me deeply, letting me know he felt the same way and pushed two fingers inside my tight, virgin pussy. I would have screamed if my mouth weren't otherwise occupied. In pleasure, not pain, his fingers filling my little pussy and brushing against my clit, feeling better than I ever could have imagined.
I had fingered myself, of course, but it had never felt anything like this. I started moving my hips to his rhythm, letting him know how much I liked it. After a while he started to go faster and move his fingers in a sort of come here motion, hitting me right in the G-spot, the lower part of his fingers still working my clit.
I was in awe of his coordination. I peeled out of my dressed as he worked me, leaving me naked and vulnerable, quickly going back into the kiss.
He worked me like that, keeping my tongue good and busy as well, until I was hit with a massive orgasm, nearly making me squirt on to his high thread-count sheet. He kept making out with me, tenderly stoking the outside of my pussy as I came down.
He took his tongue out my mouth again and kissed me on the lips. I kissed back, putting both of my hands on the back of his head, wanting him to stay right there. He didn't, of course, moving down to my cheek and then mu neck and down towards my chest.
After giving my tits some tender love with his warm hands and lovely
tongue, he moved down to my belly, mixing in light licks with his soft kisses, always keeping his hand on my pussy. Not working it, not really, just sort of cupping it, letting me know he was still there. Not that I needed any reminding as he swirled his soft tongue around my navel, dipping it in on occasion.
I really had no idea bellies could be so sensitive. At least not in a sexual way, but he was raising similar sensations to those he had showing love to my tits.
Eventually he left my belly, running his tongue all the way down to my pelvis to the point I could actually feel his warm breath on my pussy. I trembled quietly, knowing what was coming next.
Sure enough, after a moment’s pause, Logan ran his tongue down the length of my pussy lips from bottom to top, making me shudder with both pleasure and desire. He did this a few more times, getting me good and ready.
Then he gently parted my pussy lips with his hands and did the same thing to the opening, taking care to also lick my clit. After he had done that a few times, he paused with gusto, licking me hard in a circular motion, getting my pussy lips and clit at once in one move.
I jerked a bit, surprised by the sudden sensation and put my hands on the back of his head. Taking this as the encouragement it was meant to be, he started going faster, making me moan loudly. Louder than I ever had by myself.
To add further to my pleasure, something I wouldn’t have thought possible had it not happened that way, he put his finger back in me again and started working the inside of my pussy, particularly my G-spot, as he licked my lips and clit. I thought I might pass out from sheer joy, the feeling more intense than any I had experienced before.
That time I actually did squirt. My entire body was shaking like a low-level earthquake as I moaned hymns to the heavens, pushing my pussy against his mouth and finger to get more of the wonderful sensation. I slammed back down onto the bed, panting and flushed, feeling the warmth glowing from my cheeks down to my pussy.
Logan carefully pulled his finger out and raised his head, kissing me on the lips. I wanted his tongue and he gladly obliged. I reached out with my hand and touched the bulge of his cock through his pants.
