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Earlier, after feeding Joshua breakfast, she’d brought him upstairs. The medicine had kicked in, making the fractious child dopey, and she’d laid him on her bed to pacify him further. Gemma hadn’t expected to join him in his slumber. However, the lack of quality sleep caused her to nod off.
While Jason left the room for a few minutes, she lounged on her side. The joy at seeing him back in the house had given her an instant yearning in her lower belly. He came back into the bedroom and stretched out next to her on his side, propping his head up. Somewhere, he had deposited his jacket and tie, undone his top shirt button, and slipped off his socks.
He surveyed her, and his face remained unchanged at the sight of seeing her again. A seemingly unemotional response and one that should offend her after being apart. The façade was a lie. Underneath the veneer, she reckoned he bristled with excitement. She’d learnt to ignore his impassive features years ago.
Jason reached over and pinched the waistband on her jeans, dragging her closer. With skilled dexterity, he unbuttoned the jeans and pulled them down. The knickers went with them, too. She wriggled her bum to assist his undressing. He squeezed a buttock and slipped a finger down her slit, between her legs, and inside her. Gemma shut her eyes and clenched about his plunging finger. Then it slipped out.
Her eyes sprang open. Always slightly unsettling to find him scrutinising her. He rested his finger on her lower lip. She opened her mouth to receive and taste her own wetness. A decent amount of her sap hung on to his finger, confirming what she knew already—an aroused state. He pushed three fingers deep in her mouth and she gagged, producing saliva around the long digits. Armed with her slobber, he smeared it around her warm pussy and pushed the fingers up inside again, shoving past the tight ring at her entrance. She winced, still not quite there yet. He stripped off her jeans and knickers and hauled her towards him. No guesswork needed on what he wanted. She climbed over his legs, sat astride his hips, and unzipped his suit trousers.
My God! A rigid structure sprang up to greet her. She wrapped both hands around the thick erection, feeling his protruding veins, and put him where she needed him to be. She expected he’d been in the fired-up state for a while, thinking of her on the long haul flight, at the airport, and on the car journey back home. She lowered her pussy and met resistance. Too big! Still not enough give; she had to ease down, almost screwing his cock into her pussy, twisting and rotating with her hips. Each time, she sank lower. Eventually, she had all of him, and she remained there, perched on his balls. His watchful eyes hadn’t strayed from her. His expressionless blue eyes matched by firm unmoving lips. She ignored the bland features. They meant nothing. His cock told her all she needed to know.
She pulled off her cotton top and unclasped the bra, tossing it over her shoulder. Her breasts bounced right in front of his nose with her stiff nipples like small pebbles.
She could have come without having to move. Squeezing her muscles around his thickened cock, it seemed to grow ever larger. How she loved him there. Needed him there. She yo-yoed at a pace suited to her, not him. He held her waist, no tight grip, and his thumbs traced her skin, tickling her. She tried hard not to titter.
He took one of his fingers and touched it on her lip. Another finger to lubricate with her mouth. She sucked it all the way to his knuckle then he extracted it with a popping sound. He pressed against the back of her head and pushed her down onto his chest, forcing her bum up. That lubricated finger found its intended home, inside her back hole. He went as far as the second knuckle and, as she trembled with anticipation, he shook his finger inside her, twisting and gyrating.
She wanted to explode. Instead, she made an eager whimpering sound. She implored with her eyes, peering up at his face from her resting place on his shoulder. A whispered word reached her ears—at least, she was sure she’d heard it, and she came: an earthquake of pulsating nerve endings and muscles shaking. Her clitoris throbbed with tenderness, and the sensation rippled on beautifully. The finger slipped out. It was time to return the gift. He was to have his own reward.
Fists grasped her flesh and Jason bounced Gemma, as if he were a trampoline for her innards. Her swinging breasts joined in at their own pace, painfully tossed about. Now h
is face changed. An urgent grimace of need etched his features—lips crushed together, bright eyes narrowing. He growled with a guttural noise of want.
Gemma came again: an uncontrolled, rampant orgasm. She couldn’t contain it, and he erupted alongside her own—a hot burst of liquid deep within her. Jason cried out her name across the room then produced a grunt of satisfied lust. Her sides stung where he clung onto her, banging her up and down on his lap while he pumped the last drops of his essence into her. The final shudder came and she flopped off him, slipping down on the bed on her back. Her eyelids drooped. The aching stiffness in her groin paralysed her. The towel she had put down to catch Joshua’s snot and dribbling mouth, had found a new purpose; Jason’s semen dripped out, pooling beneath her.
By the time Gemma came to her senses, he had showered and shaved. He emerged from the en suite with a towel wrapped around his waist. She focussed on his broad chest: smooth and perfectly formed in symmetry, purring to herself with contentment. He went to the walk-in closet to find clothes, and she ogled him as he searched amongst his wardrobe. For a man in his mid-thirties, he remained physically no different to the man she had first met, four years earlier—youthful and fit.
“Where is Clara?” He slipped on his silk boxers—black and shimmery.
“She rang late last night after you called. She’s ill.” She shrugged. Nannies got sick, too. “She sounded rough all yesterday. I wasn’t surprised when she said she couldn’t make today.”
“I take it Joshua had you up most of the night.” He gestured at the Calpol on the bedside table.
“On and off. Hence, the catch up this morning for the both of us. I think he is over the worst now. His temperature has come down this morning.” Gemma had rotated around, lying belly down, her feet on the pillow and her head at the foot of the bed. She propped her chin on her arms and continued to admire her husband as he chose his clothes.
“Did you enjoy your meal with Mina at the Presario yesterday?” Jason pulled a pair of faded jeans over his fine gluteal muscles. She ran a tongue over lips. He would call her insatiable for wanting more from him. His nimble fingers started to do up his buttons.
“Yes.” Her mouth formed a slight grimace. “Except, I might have caused a little bit of a rumpus.”
“A rumpus?” His fingers stopped moving, and he straightened up.
Chapter 20. A Rumpus
Self-depreciating Mina lived with her parents on a council estate and worked in a large department store. It was a far cry from Gemma’s own existence. Their friendship formed at her Zumba class—an unlikely, yet essential alliance for Gemma—it anchored part of her life in normalcy, away from kink and isolating wealth.
Mina had broken the mould of expectations. From a lowly shop assistant to manager of a whole floor in less than two years, she’d proved what Gemma always knew to be the case—she was bright, enthusiastic, and more than capable of holding down a challenging job.
Gemma had arranged to meet Mina outside the French restaurant. As she arrived by car, she spotted Mina waiting outside with her feet stamping on the paving, trying to keep out the cold winter air. Gemma’s friend had dressed up into what must be for her an expensive outfit and probably bought with her staff discount card. Gemma complimented her on her appearance. She looked sassy in her snug dress, curvy, too. Quite the catch for an eligible bachelor.
“My God, Gemma.” Mina’s eyes darted up and down the impressive stone frontage. “You could have warned me.”
“You look quite the part. Don’t worry. You’ll fit straight in.” She looped her arm around Mina’s and propelled her through the revolving doors. Mina halted suddenly, causing Gemma to lose her hold.
With its marble, gilt mirrors, and elaborate finishing, the interior of the Presario reminded Gemma of the yacht, Sublime. Their heels clicked on the polished floor, and Mina’s jaw dropped when she saw the crystal chandeliers.
“You shouldn’t spoil me like this,” hissed Mina into her ear. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Stuff and nonsense. It would be insulting to both of us if we went to McDonald’s when you know I dine out in places like this.” Gemma took her arm again.
