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“Oh my!” I said shakily.
Up and down I went on him and he was strong. I did not feel his legs give under me and his face was serene as he concentrated on keeping his balance. Yet again, he halted just as I was building up to a finale.
“Oh please,” I muttered.
“Is this too challenging for you, Gemma?” he asked with a wicked grin on his face.
“No, not at all,” I said defiantly.
“Good,” he said lying me back on the bed.
The next thing I knew my feet were bent back by my ears and my bum stuck up ready for him – Ooo the Viennese oyster! I was not especially flexible and he had to hold my ankles to stop me unfolding.
“I’ve got to hold you still,” he said as he lowered back in me. “OK?”
I did not mind his restraining hands and I nodded back and shut my eyes. That time I was brought to completion by him and his pace was frenetic.
“I’m coming!” I wailed and as I did, his thumbs pressed hard into the upturned soles of my feet. Pain shot through my feet, resulting in me screaming for a second and in response, he eased off with his grip. My orgasm rocketed unperturbed by intrusive thumbs. Releasing me, he seemed satisfied even though he had not achieved his own climax.
He sat himself up on the bed next to me, his clothes had been swiftly removed during a brief warm up of kissing and tonguing. He was stroking his cock, almost absentmindedly as I recovered from my orgasm.
“I think, Miss Marshall, you need to clean me.”
I gaped at him and my jaw hung down.
“Yep, that’s right, mouth open for me,” he leant back.
I crawled across the expanse of bed and knelt next to him. He took my hair in hand and dragged my head down to meet his now growing erection.
“You’ve done this before?” he belatedly asked me.
“Yes, yes,” I was perhaps too eager. At some point, he would want to know where all this previous experience comes from.
Gathering the saliva in my mouth, I opened wide to take him. I lingered on the head of his gorgeously hard penis, running my tongue in loops around the edge. Gradually I descended and I surprised him as I sucked him deep and hard. Looking at his face, I could see nothing but sheer delight. My gag reflex was advantageously light. I had been well trained by his predecessors. He groaned, leant his head back and released my hair. He knew I was good on my own without guidance. I took my time, teasing him with my tongue and teeth occasionally. I allowed as much of him inside my mouth as I could tolerate and sucked harder. My hands moved around his exposed shaft as my mouth came back to concentrate on his hard tip. There was a veneer of hair around his base, a darker bush of blondness, curly and soft. I stroked my fingers through it as my mouth sunk back down, I could barely manage the whole of him. Perhaps I teased him too much and he suddenly pulled on my hair again.
“No not like this I want to see your face. On top of me now.” He was really sounding like the big boss again.
I sunk on to him, stretching and angling for maximum penetration and as he held my hips steady, we started to move, hips rolling and rotating. The wonderful grinding and bouncing that the position afforded to me was captivating. A rare delight to be there for so long and I revelled in the fact that I was directing the pace and mood for once. His face was close before me. Chiselled masculine features with a trickle of sweat on his upper lip, while his hair was damp and ruffled by my earlier exploratory hands.
Those eyes were the only part of his face that seemed to change his expression. They had a remarkable ability to change in intensity according to the ambient light or his own internal emotions. Windows to his mind, I wondered. The rest of him seemed to be ever fixed in an impassive, controlled expression. Why would he not show his feelings to me? I shut my eyes, unable to fathom him out or decide whether he was truly enjoying my rising and falling pattern of movements.
A few minutes later his face was buried in my breasts as my chest heaved with the exertion. We came together, which I think pleased him, it certainly did me. Another guttural, earthy orgasm with no romantic frills - pure sexual pleasure and base in nature.
“Let’s shower.”
He pushed me off with little effort and took me by the hand, helping me off the bed.
On our second night of sex together, we went in his spacious shower together. He handed me the shower gel and I washed him under the warm water. I was good at the tactile bathing, using my hands sensually as possible and he groaned under my gentle touch. I lathered up the soap and worked my way down from his neck letting him turn to rinse the suds off as I went. I reached his groin and he took my hand and guided me around his penis. I bathed the hairs around his testicles with tender strokes, his cock jerked in response.
“Stop,” he grabbed the bottle from my hand. “Your turn.”
He pushed me against the tiles and liberally rubbed me with the sweet fragrance. His hands were smooth, without calluses, not like a working man’s. Fingers massaged my shoulders, then my back, buttocks and he knelt behind me and stroked my thighs and calves. He turned me around to face him and worked the lather around my breasts. Flames were burning within me as the water splashed off my skin. There was a gentle smile on face as he cupped his hand on my sex, slipping a finger inside my pussy as if by accident. I groaned, eyes shut and arched my back, while thrusting my hips forward. I jumped as he pushed his cock inside me.
“Again, Mr Lucas?” I curled my lips at him.
“Oh indeed, Miss Marshall.” Jason buried his mouth on mine, water cascading around us.
***
