by C. C. Piper
“I know you need to come, but you have to wait until I say,” I teased her, coaxing her orgasm out towards release at the same time. “Wait for it. Wait. Wait.” Then I thrust two fingers inside of her all at once, pressing the flat of my palm to her folds as my thumb rubbed her clit. “Come for me, Jessica. Come for me. Now.”
She did and it was beautiful. Restrained as she was, she couldn’t fling her body around as much as she clearly would have otherwise but feeling her pulse on my hand had me right at my limits. I held off as long as I could, the bulbous head of me still in her mouth, then I told her to suck on me harder.
“That’s it. Take as much of me as you can. Then, you’re going to swallow me down. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and that was all it took. “Now,” I growled out in warning, shooting down her throat, groaning as she swallowed around me once, twice, and then again.
“Lick me clean,” I ordered her, though my voice was shaky after that. Regardless, I was still hard and still wanted more of her, even after coming like I had. I blinked, taking several deep breaths. Damn, that was good.
Then, I pulled away. This was one of my favorite parts, the phase I called torture. It involved me dragging my fingers along every inch of her skin, drawing circular patterns as I went. I always loved it when they squirmed, usually because they were ticklish, and when Jessica jerked backwards when I taunted the side of her rib cage, I knew I had her.
“Huh-uh. That’s a bad, bad Jessica. You were supposed to hold totally still, remember?”
“It tickles,” she said, biting her lip and skittering away from my hand, which just meant I would continue to do it.
“Now you’re being bad again. What are the rules?”
The rules were that unless I told her to say something else, her answers were always to be either yes sir or no sir. She repeated this to me, and I shifted the ropes on the beams at the bottom of the bed until her ass was partially exposed.
“Bad girls get spanked, so I’m going to spank you now. Three smacks. Here we go.” I had a strategy for this. I aimed my hand at such an angle that it would hit both her ass and the bottom portion of her core. The intention was for it to be eighty to ninety percent pleasure to twenty to ten percent pain. It was all about how hard I hit her.
“Count them for me.” I smacked her once, enough for her to feel it and for it to make noise, but not enough for her to flinch.
“One.”
I smacked her a second time, this time with a resounding slapping noise. That one should’ve stung a bit, and from her gasp, I could tell it had.
“Two,” she said, breathlessly.
This last one could be tricky. It would be softer than the other two but because she was already tender, it could still hurt if not measured out precisely. I could sense that she had more delicate, sensitive skin, so I when I smacked her, I barely touched her. Even still, she gasped anyway.
“Three,” she whispered, her chest hitching.
Correction: very sensitive skin. I’d have to be even more cautious than I customarily was.
No problem.
She’s worth it. The thought bounced around my brain. I agreed. I was also proud of her; she hadn’t flinched away at all.
“Good girl,” I murmured into her ear, before kneeling halfway off the bed. Ever since I’d seen her smoothly shaven core, I’d felt a desire to taste her, so taste her I did, with one languorous lick of my tongue.
And yum. She was earthy, and even better, tasted as amazing as she smelled. That honeyed essence wasn’t just in my nose, it was on my taste buds, and I lapped her up, glorying in the sensuality of it all. With her legs still raised partially in the air, I had a great vantage point and so I positioned myself almost lazily on my side. I licked at her folds as my two fingers slid inside her. It was a motion I’d be repeating with another body part soon.
She went higher and higher, her core becoming wetter and wetter, and it was so delicious. With her thighs surrounding my head, her soft skin everywhere, I couldn’t imagine any other place I could ever want to be. Despite relieving the pressure, I wanted her again, but this time I needed to be inside her when I came.
Stepping away for long enough to shield myself with a condom, I returned and slid inch by inch inside of her. Despite her being so ready for me, I gave her time to adjust. She was so hot and so tight I had to hold my breath to keep from going too far too fast. I even forgot myself for a second and fell out of character, my hands on her hips.
“Relax for me, baby. Just relax.”
Shit. I hadn’t meant to do that. Speak soft words to her like a lover. So I brought back the same harshness to my voice as I’d been using all along. I’d managed to sink into her completely by now, anyway. No harm done.
“Open your legs wider,” I commanded her, and she stretched out for me, making me groan again. Had I ever been inside a woman this tight before?
I didn’t think so.
Then, I started to move, and within moments, she began to flutter around me.
“Here, suck on these,” I told her, offering her the two fingers I’d had inside her a moment ago. I wanted to see her face when she tasted herself.
She appeared hesitant at first, as if this was weird for her. But then, she suckled them with gusto as she moved beneath me. I wanted to feel her come around me, and I wanted it to be so entrancing that she let go completely. I thrusted into her, being vigilant about staying within her tolerance threshold. I could feel her flutters becoming vibrations, so I took advantage of it, moving faster.
“I want you to come again. Come, Jessica. Now!” And again, she did, calling out in a noisy keen that shook the picture frames on the walls.
I fucking loved it.
Maybe too much, because I wanted it to continue. I wanted her to come over and over until she forgot her name. Until she only knew one name.
Mine.
So I increased my pace and the pressure I used to enter her. Yanking myself nearly out of her, I pushed right back in, this time all at once. But it wasn’t enough. She’d scrunched up her features, but I didn’t stop. I wanted more, more, more. She hit another peak and then another. And I kept going. At last, on her fourth—or was it her fifth?—she cried out in a raspy voice.
“Trevor, oh God, Trevor!”
I pounded into her, not holding back in the least as I rutted out my climax over her like an animal. I saw spots before my eyes and was breathing like an asthmatic as I fell onto the bed, pushing myself over far enough not to crush her.
Never in my life had I come so hard.
I was whisked back to my present reality because of discomfort. The memory of that night had caused my shaft to grow thick and heavy enough between my legs that it rubbed up against the confines of my zipper. But then, this happened anytime I allowed myself to relive it from start to earth-shattering finish.
But had there been any issue with that condom?
I tried to think back, to visualize myself inspecting it. But the truth was, I hadn’t. Like so many times before, I’d taken a tissue and thrown it away. I didn’t think it’d been torn or damaged in any way, but could I be sure?
Nope.
No matter how much I wanted to discount the visit I’d received from Jessie Souza, I kept circling back around to a few crucial points. She told me she was pregnant, that she hadn’t been with anyone else, and then, she hadn’t asked me for a thing. Not one thing. Yet, I hadn’t believed her.
Should I?
If there was even the slightest possibility that she was legitimately carrying my child, shouldn’t I know it? Shouldn’t I do what was necessary? Shouldn’t I man up and offer her some help, even if the idea of it freaked me the fuck out?
Deep down, I felt like I already knew the answer, but to stall, I decided to get another opinion.
“Trevor,” Jax answered on the third ring. “Long time, no call.”
“I know,” I apologized. “Things have been off the chain here.”
“Try
having a couple of kids.” He chuckled out, and since that made a convenient segue, I pounced on it.
“Uh, speaking of kids. How did you know when Roxy was pregnant?”
That time, he laughed out loud. “Dude, really?”
“Yes, really,” I shot back him, feeling surly. If it was true, it wasn’t funny. Not at all. Especially given how I left things with her.
“Well, she told me, of course,” Jax said, residual humor in his tone. “And then, you know, everything changes.”
“What do you mean, everything?”
“Like, obviously, her belly expands to make room for the baby. But the way she interacted with me changed, too. The way she felt both physically and emotionally changed. She was a little bit nauseous in the beginning. And certain parts of her were sore sometimes. She’d cry at the most minor thing, like a commercial or even a cute onesie that said, ‘Daddy’s Second in Command.’”
“Okay,” I said. “But like …” I didn’t know what I was really asking, or maybe, how to phrase what I needed to know. “If you’d had a woman approach you way after a hookup to tell you that she was about to have your kid, how would you respond to that?”
There was a pause. “How pregnant did she say she was? Do the times match up?”
“Well,” I contemplated this. “That’s one of my issues. If she’s being honest with me, she should be like, four months along now.”
“Does she look pregnant?”
“Uh …” How did I tell him I hadn’t seen her in a month without sounding like a dick? “She didn’t.”
“When did you see her last?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, which suddenly felt kind of hot. “Mid-January.”
“All right, it’s a couple weeks into February now, so …” he muttered under his breath. “Hey, Rox, come here a sec, would you?”
I heard some muffled voices, then, “Well, with Alec, she started to show at three months. Just an adorable little pooch.” Evidently, his wife remained within earshot. “With Callie, though, she said she didn’t look pregnant until she was about four months in. There’s a bunch of stuff about first pregnancies as opposed to additional pregnancies and girls being carried differently than boys that I won’t go into. But my guess would be that most women start to show at around three to four months.”
“Cool,” I said automatically, feeling numb.
“And FYI? Condoms aren’t one hundred percent safe. Just sayin’.”
“Oh.” That was news to me. Bad news. “Uh, thanks for all the info.”
“Good luck, man. Let me know how everything turns out.”
The conversation with my best friend served an important purpose. It made me realize I needed to visit Jessie Souza again. I needed to know definitively if she was pregnant or not.
I honestly didn’t know at this point which outcome I wanted. If her stomach still seemed flat as a fritter, that would mean she’d been lying to me. Yet if the opposite was true, that would mean that not only was I assured of permanent douche-hood, but also that I was most likely the father.
Either way, I’d feel like shit.
Christ.
11
Jessie
We were in the cool down section of my Zumba class, and I was grateful. Though I’d been lucky enough to experience almost no morning sickness, this overwhelming fatigue crap would just not go away. I felt lethargic at best, and downright exhausted the rest of the time. I’d started to sleep for more lengthy stints of time at night, and when I could, I also tried to get at least a thirty-minute nap in the early afternoon. But there wasn’t always time for such things.
I’d made the decision to pull out of my student teaching and my other courses this semester. With the baby coming, I had to save as much money as I could ahead of time. It depressed me to be so close to obtaining my degree only to have to put it off, but I knew a deferment was a reasonable compromise.
Thank God for Ashley.
She’d been nothing but patient and supportive. She’d even insisted on switching rooms with me. Hers was bigger than mine by about five square feet, and that extra space would be just enough to fit a crib in the corner. Ashley was way too good to me. I didn’t deserve her.
But I’d feel forever grateful for her.
And great, now I was crying in the midst of a Zumba session. Well, not in the midst, but the class hadn’t finished yet. What a mess. I wiped the sweat from my forehead while surreptitiously swiping at my eyes. If I was lucky, none of my students would think anything of it.
Right after brushing away my tears, I glanced up to see an apparition in the mirror. I squinted my eyes closed and opened them again, expecting it to be gone, but it was still there. I turned my head, and sure enough the apparition remained. Only it wasn’t an apparition at all.
It was Trevor.
The first thought that went through my head was, What the ever-loving fuck? The second was Ashley’s contribution: Cheese and crackers! Neither seemed sufficient enough to describe the tumult of thoughts and emotions rattling around inside my skull, though.
Not even close.
I fell out of step with everyone else and had a hard time getting back into a normal rhythm. The music continued to blare out from the speakers overhead, so I tried again. And again. But it was a lost cause. I stepped out of formation and dropped to one knee, retying my perfectly tied shoelaces. I took my time, and eventually, the music tapered to a stop. Everyone broke off, going their separate ways.
Only once everyone had departed did Trevor approach me.
I spent that time digging through my duffle bag. I didn’t know why he was here, but I didn’t want to feel humiliated again. With my hormones being all over the place, I cried at the drop of a hat—just like I had moments before—and I didn’t want to cry in front of him. It was horrible enough that he didn’t believe this baby was his. I didn’t need to give him any additional psychological weaponry to use against me.
“Jessica, I mean, Jessie. Hi,” he said, and I peered up at him, noticing that he appeared antsy and unsure. That was new. He also wasn’t meeting my eye.
I stood to my full five-foot one-inch height. It didn’t help me feel any more powerful really. But it did capture Trevor’s attention. In fact, every single bit of his attention went to one portion of my anatomy. My baby bump.
I’d peeled off the oversized t-shirt I wore over my spandex workout clothes these days, the one I used to camouflage my condition. Once it was gone my pregnancy became more than evident, even though I wasn’t anywhere near as round as I knew I’d grow to be.
Soon, I wouldn’t be able to hide anything anymore, and I’d have to explain that I was expecting to my students. It might not end up being that big a deal, but I wasn’t ready to reveal this yet.
Once they knew, some of the nosier women would likely pepper me with queries I might not feel comfortable answering. Including ones about whether or not I could continue to be their instructor long term. I didn’t know the answer to that, so I was putting that conversation off for as long as possible.
“How did you find me?” I asked him.
“Wasn’t that difficult. I Googled your name and saw you listed as a fitness instructor.”
“Oh.”
There was a long and deafening silence.
“How did you find me last month, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked, finally.
“You uh … left a receipt behind. Back at the hotel. Must’ve fallen out of your pocket. It was for a pizza and wings.”
His lips lifted into a faint semblance of a grin. “My favorite meal.”
“You like pineapple on your pizza,” I observed.
“Yeah. You ever tried it?”
“No.”
“You should. You might like it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Why the hell were we discussing pineapple at a time like this?
“Why are you here?” I asked, needing him to get to the point.
“I wanted to see you. Nee
ded to.” His eyes lowered to my tummy again.
Ah. I felt a sharp rush of indignation and couldn’t help gritting my teeth. “This isn’t padding, if that’s what think.”
“I believe you,” he admitted quietly, but I didn’t know what he meant by that.
“You believe me about what?” my voice double the volume of his.
“About you being pregnant. And about it being mine.”
“When did you come to this brilliant conclusion?” I was being snippy, I knew. But I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“I …” He hesitated, and I was again struck by his apparent loss of confidence. I didn’t know if I liked this humbler version of him or not. “I’ve been thinking about it continually over the past month. I’m sorry I was so … nasty to you when you came by. I have no excuse for my behavior.”
Maybe his contriteness shouldn’t have softened me toward him, but it did. “It must’ve been a shock to your system. I know it was to mine. If you want it, I can request a paternity test from my doctor.”
“That’s okay. I know the timing lines up.” No denying that, at least. Good to know he was willing to admit it. “So, are you and … and the baby okay?”
“We’re good so far.”
“Do you have like, any doctor’s appointments coming up?”
He wanted to know about my appointments?
“Yeah.”
“Can I join you on the next one? I know it’s a lot to ask, but if it’s okay, I’d like to be involved.”
My mouth dropped open. After our previous little soirée, I’d pretty much ascertained that he wanted no part of this. I mean, what kind of man would ever acknowledge a son or daughter conceived the way ours was? I didn’t like to ruminate on the fact that I’d gotten pregnant while getting paid to have sex, but it was exactly what had happened. I’d done it for the money, expecting it to be terrible. But then, it hadn’t been.
