Beginnings (13 page)

Jason was wide awake and yet his eyes remained firmly shut. Emma could feel, as she played with him, thrills running through his flesh. He was becoming aware of every one of Emma’s tiny ministrations. He lay quietly now, no moan, barely a breath and his body was tense. Thrill after thrill shuddered through him uncontrollably. He was not aware of what was happening. He felt all these things but this was so unlike anything he had experienced that he thought no more of it than that it was amazing. He thought she would raise her head at any moment and crawl up to him and kiss his lips. He wanted her to. He wanted to thank her. He wanted to take her into his body, somehow. To make her him.

Emma was quite lost in the moment. The brilliant stars millions of miles above them, the cool night air, the soft, moist, fragrant grass, the dark windows she knew to be behind her, the sleeping giant upstairs, the lovely young man beneath her, his wonderful, beautiful cock in her hand, in her mouth, in her hand, in her mouth and her other wicked hand playing, playing, playing, around, over, and on her clit, all mingled in mind and body, in sense and feeling, building a tower within her, which, when it had reached too high would
come crashing down and send her mad with each wondrous, crushing, sensual blow.

When we think of Emma we remember her habits, one of those being her inclination towards postponement of pleasure in the greedy hope for more. Emma was determined to take Jason places unknown to him but she was just as determined to take herself to places unknown to her. She was capable of much at once. Hers was an instinctive sensuality tending towards outright greed. It was this greed which made her good, for she not only desired more for herself, she wanted more for others. She always wanted more.

So when she felt the tower wobble and incline towards pleasurable destruction, she removed her hand and the whole edifice vanished. The foreman stood by the foundation, dumbfounded but not defeated, he would begin the work again, cheerfully and with much vigour.

Jason’s mind wandered off slowly, pleasure and expectation each taking a hand, leading him on a merry jaunt, keeping him distracted, while Emma played greedily with his body.

She had begun to stroke the length of his shaft slowly with her saliva-covered hand, her grip tight, like the boy’s own would be, heedless of
injury, and was all the while using her mouth on the underside of his balls. Sucking and licking his testicles, teasing his anus with her tongue, kissing and nibbling the upper reaches of his thighs. There was great timing to this, each stroke coincided with one of her forays below. She managed the boy’s delight cruelly, for though she kept him hard and the thrills continued to shudder, she restrained his growing orgasm, treating him with contempt, holding him, bound and gagged in the basement of his growing tower. Such contempt is often a necessity when one is aiming high.

Emma’s senses were flooding, her towers kept growing and growing, faster and faster, as the taste and smell of his come, still on her lips, on her hands, in her mouth, aroused in her primal, beastly, subhuman longing. She wanted so much for herself. Why couldn’t David come down and fuck her? Why couldn’t he sense her need?

But then the fear that he might do so stole her breath from her. Just imagine how the scene would appear from the window. From the kitchen door. Emma’s arse raised, fingertips visible between her legs and her head buried in a man’s crotch. And out in the open, on the lawn, completely nude, with no respect for her husband or the neighbours.
Just imagine the look on her drowsy, confused and cranky husband’s face when he discovered who it was she was with. Would there be disgust? Would he finally crack? Jesus! Emma, you’ve gone too far. It’s disgusting. You’re perverted.

He probably wouldn’t be able to speak. He might just turn around and leave.

Emma shuddered and her latest tower rocked heavily from side to side. The rocking became so perilous that the tower was forced to behave contrary to the laws of gravity for although it swayed dramatically it somehow managed to return, and Emma almost lost her mind.

She had removed her hand but Jason’s scent, her fears and her husband’s disgust were doing more than her fingers ever could. The tower would not crumble though. Her tolerance was draining from her and this tottering orgasm tower was such that the pleasure she received was becoming unbearable.

Her whole body jolted. And again. And again. If she didn’t come now she never would. Every nerve in her body was firing, every muscle tensed and beginning to burn. Her breath had stopped. She was dying from pleasure. She always knew she would one day.

EIGHTEEN

Emma was forced into action by her inability to topple her tower. She once again pressed her hand into herself, but this time seeking and finding that much maligned and very real spot that has been so unimaginatively labelled. She began to rub the area like she might Aladdin’s lamp. Impetuously, greedily, and somewhat thoughtlessly, contrary to the manner she found most favourable in saner times. This excited her all the more but failed to trigger the collapse she so desired. Her fucking husband could have done his bit! Was he lying asleep upstairs,
dreaming wicked dreams, when his wife was living a wicked life? Come down and find out what kind of a woman you’ve married! Come down.

Her hand weakly and irregularly stroked Jason’s cock. She stared hungrily at it though. She could feel it enter her. She wanted it entering her. She had to have it in her. There was no other way to topple her tower. But he had to take her.

Be a man, boy! Be a man! Can’t you see what you’ve done to me?

She was on her knees and vividly imagining Jason on his knees behind her. No. Her husband. No. Jason.

The tower shook, her body shook, she hung on the edge, the edge of reason.

The power of the sensation was beginning to numb her senses. She forgot Jason. Only her husband in a full fury could bring her down. Fuck! Come on! Come on! Oh! Please, please. Oh fuck me! Fuck me! Your dirty whore of a wife! Fuck me! Her mind was spinning round and round this one hope. All of her body was pulled taut till spasms wracked her.

She needed to be caught. She needed to be caught! Now!

She pressed her head against Jason’s thigh as
her hand squeezed his thick shaft and felt the first heavy thud of her husband’s hips against her arse as he embedded himself in her.

She felt his hand on her neck, gripping it roughly. He was swearing at her. Calling her all the worst names a husband could conjure up.

He lifted her head and made her take the boy’s cock in her mouth. The whole length of it disappeared and he held her there. She was choking. Her eyes watered. But she sucked it for her husband.

He wanted her to be all that she was. The demeaning deluge of vile words kept rolling from his vicious tongue. She was pushed forward by David’s heavy, hard thrusts, thumping deep, deep inside her. He hated her at this moment. He was so hard, a truncheon. He brutalised her. Criminal wife! Pounding her hard and fast. He wanted to climax in her one last time. He’d leave her for this. No fucking respect. But he also knew his wife so well, and wanted to leave her knowing just what she was forfeiting. The glutton. She didn’t marry me for nothing. He lowered his hips slightly and thrust up and found what she had been looking for all this time. Dynamite!

‘Emma! What the hell are you doing?’

There it was! The tower toppled. She lifted her head, arching her back, leaving Jason’s cock. She let out an unchecked, deep moan, too loud for the backyard at midnight. Her whole body shook uncontrollably. She collapsed onto him and quaked violently, her hand still in herself, her sex pulsating, tears in her eyes. She began crying in earnest. The aftershocks were delicious. The first wave had been too intense for her conscious self to acknowledge, let alone judge, but these tremors were absolutely divine. The feeling enveloped her, she became the feeling. She was this pleasure, all other aspects of her life were meaningless. She lay inert, still crying, her body trembled, her skin felt the cold air, the warmth of their bodies, the pressure of Jason’s hand caressing it; in short, her skin hummed and her ears heard nothing but the blood surging in them.

‘Are you OK?’ Jason was asking, in a frightened voice. To his eyes, Emma looked to be sobbing. Now she was upset! What had he done? He had been dragged back from a land of delight by Emma’s extraordinary behaviour. She had been swearing at herself. Calling herself names and then choking herself on his cock. He hadn’t seen her hand working at herself relentlessly. He hadn’t
felt what she had felt. He hadn’t access to Emma’s fantasies. He had no idea a woman could do what Emma had just done.

Jason just lay caressing her. The poor woman was beside herself, he thought. She continued to cry, so he pulled the blanket over her and let her cry.

Emma had rarely orgasmed like that. She had been brought to tears so few times in her life. The exhaustion she was feeling was complete. She’d been close for so long and the orgasm itself had gone on and on and lingered still. She felt the echoes and phantom orgasms as though in a dream. Her body was just releasing the tension the most efficient way it could. The tears flowed, hot and wet. She would often marvel at the variety of orgasms she could experience. That was the most tense, irritating and tormenting bugger of a build up. And the orgasm itself! Her whole body was vibrating. She’d be sore tomorrow, no doubt. It was a work-out.

She dozed off …

She woke with a start.

‘Jesus! How long was I asleep?’ she asked, somewhat breathlessly.

‘You were asleep?’ he replied.

‘How long have I been lying here?’

‘A minute, two. I don’t know.’

‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t know what I was doing.’

‘What? What? Oh, darling. Mmmmm. Baby. I just came, that’s all. You did nothing wrong. You did everything right.’

Emma crawled up to his mouth and kissed him tenderly and long. She felt him stiffen against her.

‘But you were crying,’ he said disingenuously, suddenly proud of himself and ashamed of his pride.

‘That’s the power of your hot young cock. Thick, long, powerful young cock. I love it. I love your hard,’ she gripped it, ‘thick, beautiful cock. It’s mine.’

She kissed him again. Their tongues were on the same beat, their bodies, hands and desires were entwining again. Emma’s exhaustion had revealed the bare skeleton of her energies and she was inclined to waste these too. Every touch was enabling her to revisit the past. She felt such love for Jason. She wanted him to know just how much she wanted him, how much she appreciated him and how beautiful she thought him.

Her hand was between them, gripping him, her
tongue was with his, her body rubbed itself against him. The warmth of their bodies was sweet to her, their shared warmth.

Jason was caressing her bum when he made the warm wet discovery. His fingers slipped on Emma’s come. It was everywhere and it excited him terribly. He rubbed it all over her arse cheeks, kneaded them. But he kept away from the darker regions between them. She could feel him tentatively explore then retreat. She was amazed at the way his inexperience still kept him at bay after all they had done together. He was ever the good boy! He had never touched her there. How she wished he might now!

She wiggled her bum provocatively and moaned for him. She wondered what he might do if his fingers found her arsehole. Could you just feel those blind fingers timidly scouting the forbidden region unaware of the erotic implications? She could almost hear his thoughts as he roamed the known regions of her arse, wondering at the unknown reaches between the lovely fleshy cheeks. He wanted to be there. She knew that. His explorations grew steadily more daring but still remained a distance from his unnamed desire and her named one.

Emma, in the midst and during this long slow aftermath of her orgasm, had forgotten her original aim. She would have readily admitted to herself that she would have to try to give the boy the blow job of his life some other time. She was spent. But she was aware that he was not. His cock pulsated in her hand. It felt hot. It was hot.

All the while their mouths had continued a glorious, meandering kiss, the kind of kiss that is somnolent, more dream than actuality. Their thoughts were fluid, finding their ways under doors and through cracks, dripping and pouring into regions untrammelled by daily concerns. Two tongues, four lips and a million miles of wide open spaces. Jason loved these kisses. He loved to kiss Emma. She always put so much into her kisses. He thought she was never more eloquent than when kissing. He could learn more from one of Emma’s dreamy kisses than from all of his schooling.

But then he felt a change in her. She was readying herself for a goodbye. He could tell. He’d faced so many goodbyes from her. She was always having to break away from his kisses. Jason could kiss for ever. Emma always kissed between appointments.

NINETEEN

Jason wouldn’t let her go tonight. They had till dawn. What did they need sleep for? He held her tightly, rolled her over and lay on top of her. Emma was so surprised she let out a sweet little sound of alarm. He had her beneath him now. He seemed bigger somehow, bulkier, more man than boy. How he had grown! His weight when clothed and safe and just a teenage boy, kissing her on a sunny afternoon, had seemed paltry compared to the weight of her husband. But now, naked, hard, dangerous, with menacing intent, he seemed heavier, more masculine, stubbornly powerful.

All the come in the air, in her mouth, on her hands, on the blanket and all over them, this male scent was stripping what she knew of him and revealing what he was. An adult male.

She had automatically raised her knees. The man he’d become knew what she wanted. Her pelvis shifted and he felt her pussy for the first time. It was pressed against his shaft. Her lips were so wet and soft. Were warm. He too shifted his pelvis and his shaft slid along her lips and he grew so very excited.

He started to pant and, staring into Emma’s eyes in disbelief, slid his cock back up along her very wetness.