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“I can’t hold it!” I had cried a few minutes later as my thighs throbbed.
He had moved me into a classic doggy style to finish and I had been relieved he had not made me stay in the uncomfortable position. But why would he? He had not forced me to do anything against my will.
Each passing weekend we had continued our unspoken dialogues. His observant and penetrating eyes had held back from revealing his deeper thoughts. Whatever his intentions towards me, they were undeclared and romantic words of love and adoration were absent. The closest he had come to saying anything in veneration was on my second Friday in his bedroom. I had stripped off as he sat fully clothed on the edge of his bed. I already did not mind being naked in his presence and he had immediately noticed the change in my appearance.
His hand had reached forward and grasped me about the waist. I had been reeled in towards him and I smiled as he fixed his eyes on my nudity. Between my legs, I was entirely bare, as he had asked me to be. The shaving had been tricky to do as I had been out of practice with the delicate technique. His hands had rested on my hips and he had admired my handiwork.
“Gorgeous girl,” he had said simply and my heart had glowed with the compliment. He had leaned forward and kissed my smooth mound with his puckered lips.
“Just how I like it,” he had added.
His hands had moved around and clenched my buttock cheeks and a moan had departed my lips. The need to be put in a particular position had been overwhelming me. To be laid out and used by him in manner to which I was accustomed had haunted me. I had felt ashamed at the need. Why couldn’t I enjoy sex without the trimmings of my past life? Naturally, he had not carried out my wishes - why would he, as he did not know of their existence. The lack of communication had continued week after week.
Another Saturday morning and I lay expectantly on his bed. The wake up routine was always the same. Jason had called this sex his wake up fuck, a quickie between the sheets. He woke first and watched me come out of my slumber. Reaching across he pulled me towards him and played with me using his fingertips, tracing up and down my skin, arousing me gradually. At first I had not been that keen, I was not a morning person. He on the other hand was full on the moment he woke up. I had joked once that dawn sex was a substitute for walking a dog, brisk exercise to wake the muscles up.
After lunch, I amused myself by playing pool on his billiard table, or picking over a book. I decided to ask him if it would be all right to have a few of my personal things in his house, an iPod and sketchbook would be a good start. I enjoyed art and nearly thought about studying it. After several rather heated debates with my parents, they had persuaded me that art does not pay rent. They were right, as I had no idea how to make a living out of being an artist.
Like previous Saturdays, he worked the afternoon in his study. We usually parted company after Sunday breakfast, so he could play golf at his country club. There was always a driver to take me home, though not Martinson, but an anonymous younger man.
However, before I left something different happened that third Sunday morning. Jason’s hand was caressing my buttocks with small gentle movements, his morning wake up tease was in full swing. Then his finger took a journey across both cheeks in a straight line. I flinched and shut my eyes cursing. He had noticed them and he must have done before now. To distract him I parted my legs further exposing my puckered anus.
“Oh, really,” he smirked at me.
I could see him lying on his side next to me. He took his finger, tracing down my between my cheeks and then circled around my anus. I groaned uncontrollably, it had been so long since I had a visit in there. I knew how much I wanted him to have me completely. My yearnings for him took me back to the time when I gave my body willingly and whenever I was told to do so.
“My, my.” Jason had sat up and looked down at me intently. “Gemma, do I take it you’re not an anal virgin?” He was clearly teasing me.
“No, Jason, I have been very wanton in the area before.” I could only confess. At least the distraction had worked.
“You’re previous sexual exploits continue to amaze me. Wait,” he commanded.
He had gone from the room and then a few minutes later he was back with a tube of lube in his hand.
I sighed audibly. Oh my, this was going to be great.
He squirted the cold gel into my crack and rubbed it in with his fingers.
“Sure about this, Gem?” he sounded concerned that I was not up to the task.
“I’m good for it, Jason. Please I’m getting really wet for you.” I looked him straight in the eyes entreating him to do oblige me.
He grabbed two pillows and placed them under my hips, spreading my buttock cheeks wide. He pressed a well-lubricated finger inside me, thrust it in and out slowly, then faster. I whimpered in unconcealed delight. I was already close to coming. I gripped a pillow tightly, deciding not to let go for anything. Then he used two fingers together. I tilted my bum back to accommodate them and my insides were doing somersaults, tightening around his digits.
“Whoa, take it easy babe, I’m getting there,” he chuckled.
He removed his fingers and placed the tip of his firm penis against me. The length of it rocked between my oiled cheeks, back and forth, teasing and building my anticipation and fear. Lowering himself on to my body, he penetrated me with substantial erection. Gasping I had forgotten his size and I had to endure, for a moment, discomfort as I stretched around him, then acquiescing I allowed him to occupy me fully. He eased in with extraordinarily slowness, almost too slow. All the time he was whispering reassuring sounds in my ears. I nodded back, unable to articulate any sensible sound at him. Once impaled he moved in and out with increasing ease and I was enthralled by his tenderness.
“Gem, I need to go quicker and harder if you want me to come in you. Or I can stop,” he spoke into my ear with a groan.
“Please. Jason, fill me. I can take it.”
He responded immediately, increasing speed and depth. A few thrusts later, he reached under and began to help me achieve my climax. I came first and he quickly followed. We were both loud and vocal. Jason cried out sexual obscenities, but I knew they were not directed at me - he was in the moment.
He drew out of me gently and headed into the bathroom. One minute there, and the next gone, I felt lost without him in me. I heard the sound of the bath taps running. Soon the strong smell of fragrant bath oil wafted through into the bedroom. I gingerly rose up and joined him in the warm water. We would bathe each other and that was as thrilling as sex.
***
Between our weekends of sexual gratification, Jason and I continued to maintain distance between ourselves. Not only the physical distance of separate floors of the same building but also a state of incommunicado. Whether he held me in his thoughts for one instant during those weekdays remained unknown. I certainly thought of him a great deal and not just his splendid body but also the whole package that accompanied it.
