Finding a JewelbyMerryPrankster©
The typical company Christmas party. Rented out the trendy restaurant downtown. Paid insane amounts of money to do so. Unlimited food, excellent food mind you. Free drinks. Sounds fun? Not tonight. Not for me.
My father works for a successful law firm. Made partner not too long ago. He makes, oh, I'll just say that our family has never wanted. It was his firm's party.
So here I was surrounded by the families of law-money privilege. So like my own wonderful family, just subtle little variations. The prospects of enjoying myself in this scene were pretty grim. Best to just kick back a few bourbons.
I am twenty two, just over six feet tall, and in that excellent physical condition only afforded to the rich. I work out daily. What the fuck else is there to do? I recently graduated with a degree in literature; the law bit never holding much allure. I'm jobless, but far from penniless. No job, but now I can talk intelligently about Hemmingway or Faulkner. And most of these lawyers, their wives and husbands, love to trot out a few literary critiques, especially at these functions, proving the existence of their inner sophisticate. I mean, these are educated people. Most of them are accomplished schmoozers. They all bullshit for a living. The conversations, though tending to be filled with the aforementioned bullshit, were always interesting. But after a few years of these parties, you realize they just repeat themselves. Nothing new to say. Tonight I just couldn't deal.
My father was engaged with some other of the partners. Mother the same. Very typical. It would be easy to slip into a nice drunk and catch a cab the hell out of here. Never would have come here but it is sort of a mandatory attendance thing. A show of family solidarity. All that shit. So there were a few people my age around. Even a few interesting looking girls. Maybe after the bourbons I thought.
And then I saw my twenty year old bitch sister promenading across the restaurant, one of her friends in tow. This exchange was inevitable, would have preferred to do it drunk, but hey.
"Why Madeline, how are you this most lovely of evenings?"
"Cut the shit Johnny. I need you to take Jules home. I'm leaving."
"Oh, off to fuck the wait staff already? But it's not even eight o'clock. I thought you didn't turn into a whore until midnight. And abandoning your young friend no less. For shame sister."
Breaking off this exchange, I looked to the friend. Jules. Jesus, Jules. My sister's childhood friend. Hadn't seen her in four years. A product of avoiding my sister I suppose.
Jules. She was...sexy. Just over five foot, firm round breasts. Blonde hair, just past shoulder length. Heels. Little black skirt. God, she looked fun. I used to babysit her and my sister. Jesus.
"Oh, remember Jules now Johnny? Try not to drool you fucking derelict."
Ignoring my sister I stared right at Jules. She shot me a big smile. "Johnny Tyler," she said, "you look absolutely wonderful. It's been far too long." The mock cordial greeting. Her smile was turning to that devious little grin that I love on a girl.
"And Jules McCarthy, my how you've grown. Such pleasant surprises."
"Oh Jesus Christ," my sister said, "Jules, I'll see you tomorrow. Johnny, drive her home, now."
"Jules my sister says you need a ride home. Is that true?"
"I'm afraid so. If you would be a gentleman..."
"Absolutely. Shall we?" I extended my hand.
My sister shot me one last wilting glare before turning and leaving.
I led her past the lawyers, out to my car, unlocking the door and seeing her seated. Then I got in, turned the ignition and drove. Fast.
A few boring pleasantries were exchanged before we returned to our little flirting game.
"So why the rush to get home Jules?"
"Well, your sister wanted to fuck one of the waiters."
I laughed. An appropriate laugh, unforced, but not too loud. Keeping cool.
She paused then said, "You know Johnny, I always loved when you babysat me."
"Really Jules? Why's that?"
"Because I had the biggest crush on you."
"I never knew."
"Why would you? I was just your sister's little friend."
Oh god Jules. If you only knew. She had been the subject of my wildest fuck fantasies throughout high school. She had that kind of body that sometimes comes a little too early to girls. Thirteen years old, huge tits. I had an age inappropriate crush on her since I was sixteen and she fourteen. Now I was driving her home. No longer inappropriate. She was telling me about her adolescent crush on me and the idea that I might soon by fucking Jules McCarthy began to percolate in my head. Okay, one, two, three.
"Jules, this may sound like bullshit, but I've always thought you were gorgeous. You say why would I know about your crush, like I never noticed you. But I noticed. You were a beautiful girl and now you are an exquisite woman." I held my breath. Preparing for the shut down. Basically, 'Look, Johnny, you're nice, but we're not going to fuck.'
But then she said, "Mmm. Johnny. Since my parents are out, I think that after you drop me off, I'd like you to come in the house and fuck me." Simple and eloquent.
Sweet Jesus. Jules McCarthy.
"Turn left here," she said. I obliged.
I looped the car around and parked along the front drive, a little short of the entrance, anticipation building. Almost before I stopped she was out the door, giddy, skipping along toward the front door. I'd never been over here before. Her parent's house was palatial. A rounded stair spilled out from a huge double door onto the front walk. The walk, as well as the stairs, was made of some ornate looking stone. Not marble, but one of those. Costly I'm sure. It was illuminated by some craftily hidden lights. Maybe it was by design, or maybe it was because my brain was basking in that delightful knowledge of impending orgasm, but the path was practically shining, a clear invitation. I got out of the car and followed her just as she slipped inside the house.
The front doors were carelessly flung open. I stopped in the doorway and took in the entryway. To the left a grand staircase lazily spiraled toward a second floor. Hallways left the entrance to each side and another went past the stairs into the interior of the house. A light at the far ends of each hall dimly lit the entryway. The floor seemed to be made of the same stone as the front stairs and path, but different. A slight change in hue or sheen. I couldn't tell. I was almost intoxicated drinking in the affluence and artistry of the entryway. I stepped forward, anxious to resume my pursuit, and with my first step I almost tripped. Her shirt was in a tight little pile at my feet. I looked up and saw my little blonde angel, looking back at me from the hallway directly ahead. Smirking, mischievous. Shirtless. I had to restrain myself from running to her, taking her right on the floor. Had to remind myself that slowness is pleasure. I let that tingle of anticipation build as we locked eyes across the hall. I was more than content to let her play out her little game. Smiling, she turned from me and proceeded down the hall. I followed. The front doors were wide open.
I set out behind her matching her languid, lascivious pace. Her heels against the floor created a hypnotic rhythm. Her bra went next. She playfully twirled it over her head and then tossed it arbitrarily. I was completely entranced. Sauntering down the hall, hips rocking back and forth, a naughty little pendulum, she reached backward and slowly ran her hands from her skirt clad ass up her bare back. Reaching up her back as far as she could, she then spread her arms outward and stopped walking. She turned around, a little pirouette, and promptly slid her skirt to her feet, a slight little bend in the knees, and then she was kicking it at me with the tip of her heeled shoe. Her lithe twenty year old body absolutely radiant in the dim light. Tan, taut, blonde hair just tickling the tops of her breasts. Narrow strip of blonde hair leading to the vertical smile, otherwise completely shaven. The same little smirk on her face. Completely in control. My own personal angel.
I stood, looking at the body I was soon to enjoy, trying to maintain a modicum of cool, worried that my jaw was slack, I was shaking, or something worse. Worried that any slight thing might upset some imaginary balance, break some spell, keep me from touching her. I also wanted her to know that I was the one in control here. Jules' smirk told me that she knew better. Incredible poise. So sexy. She ran her hand from her legs to her breasts, moaned a little, a purr. Jesus, she's purring for me. I took a breath, seemed like my first one in minutes and began to think for a moment. For the first time since walking in the house, I was conscious of what was happening. My cock was solid, straining against my pants. Hadn't even noticed. Not surprising at all though. And who was this little tease, so confident, leading me into her parent's house, the house in which she was raised? Was this the same girl I watched grow up alongside my sister? Did it matter? Wherever she was leading me I was only too happy to follow.
We continued walking, passing closed doors, the light at the end of the hall getting brighter, framing her perfect body with an angelic glow. She passed the doorway and the shadow receded from her back, crawling from the top of her ass, to her hair, to gone, revealing the mole on her left cheek, the slight indent at the small of her back, the light freckling on her shoulders, the traces of auburn in her hair. I discovered this girl of my childhood anew.
I stepped into the room and she turned. Still wearing that little grin. A smile and nothing else. Determined to drive me out of my mind. She finally spoke. "So now that I've got you here, I'm not sure I know what to do with you." Lies. But keep lying to me. "I guess you're just going to have to do whatever you want," pausing, drawing it out, "to me."
I stepped toward her, slowly, eyes locked, careful to play this game to its conclusion. I reached up and cupped her chin with my hand, slightly lifting, inspecting my nymph. "Take off my clothes."
She quickly reached for the top button of my shirt, forgetting the rules she had set. I caught her by the wrist. She drew her breath in slightly, almost a gasp. Never breaking that smile. Still holding her wrist I said, "Take my clothes off, but when you do it, do it slow."
The corners of her mouth begin to rise slightly then drop, her smile fluttering, teeth flashing. Was the waiting breaking her down too? The anticipation was almost cruel, but we knew that each delayed gesture, each additional moment pushed the inevitable crescendo to a greater height.
She returned her hand to my chest, a slow arching movement, walking her fingers up to the top button. Her other hand joined there and one button at a time she removed my shirt, finally casting it behind us. Next she bent at both knees, dropping her face level with my painfully hard cock and went to work on my belt. Undoing the clasp, applying steady pressure, she slid the belt from its loops. Freeing it, she stood and cocked her arm as if to throw the belt. I made a slight halting gesture toward her arm and said, "Let's keep that close. You never know what one might need at a moment's notice."
Where were these words coming from? I didn't recognize them coming from my own mouth. I would never have dared a statement like that with another girl, especially the Jules I knew, or thought I knew, but it was like we were two different people.
Hearing my words, her grin widened. Knowing and wanting. Good. Now I would have to back up my implicit promise. Thinking of exactly how to later employ my leather belt, Jules had already returned to my lower half. She started with my shoes, deftly untying, one then the other. I lifted my feet, one at a time, allowing her to remove the shoes. The same with the socks. Still squatting in front of me, she reached up to my chest and ran her hands to the top of my pants. I almost wanted her to never reach my waist. One perpetual motion, drawing ever closer, but never reaching the destination. But the delay was too long now. I started to think about cumming in her mouth.
Jules was sliding my pants down my legs. I lifted my legs, alternating, and she slid the pants free. Rising, she returned to face my straining cock. Just a thin layer of boxer shorts separating me from that little smirk. She blew out warm air and I moaned softly. Now she raised her hand, starting at the top of my cock sort of absently rubbing the length and returning to the top. She looked up and held my eyes. Her smile was growing. I think my moan had encouraged her. Now she was determined to break me, have me rip off the shorts and plunge my cock into her throat. Just a moment longer Jules.
At my breaking point, she saved me, sliding my boxers down my legs, letting them rest at my feet. Finally my cock was freed, springing upward, a proud triumphant bastard, caged no longer. Jules gripped the base and slowly inserted the head of my cock into her mouth. The head, nothing more. I wanted to pour gallons of cum down her throat. Restraint was nearly all gone. The lips of a little blonde angel wrapped around the head of my cock. I moaned, my knees buckled slightly, she pulled back and smiled at me. "Mmmm," she said, "Tastes nice."
The tease. All right Jules, you win. "Just suck my cock," I said.
Still looking right in my eyes, she said, "Is that what you want?"
"Honey, what else could I want?"
Her smile grew, she broke eyes, opened her mouth and slid my cock past her perfect lips. Tight and wet, her lips gripped the shaft of my cock, slowly admitting me further into her mouth. Soon the head hit the back of her throat, leaving half my cock exposed to the air. She rocked her head back and forth, so slowly, dragging her lips across my shaft, now using her tongue to tease that delicate underside. Where did she learn? No, don't even think about that. Be here and now I told myself.
She must have known how close I was. She slowed further, if that was even possible. It just seemed like she was holding my cock in her mouth, tonguing lightly, except that slight drag of her lips, back and forth. I focused on the sensations and the need to cum seemed to fade. Backing her mouth to the head of my cock, she paused and tongued all around. Lapping, just using the tip of her tongue, incredible. Slowly, audibly, she let the head pop from her mouth. She had not looked up since she took my cock in her mouth for the second time. Now I wanted to see her eyes. See there that same teasing confidence she had shown me so many times already. Just look up Jules. And then she did.
The smile was back. A goddess. In complete control, manipulating me through my cock. Just keep going I thought. And then she did.
Jules gripped the base of my shaft as her tongue shot out from her mouth, lapping at my balls. She started underneath and licked all around, broad wet licks on each of my balls. Then she took one in her mouth, gently at first, then firmer, sucking, applying pressure. She was still looking right into my eyes. Then one of her hands crept downward, between her legs and started moving back and forth. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing. Maybe she was just rubbing up and down her slit, a few fingers. Maybe she was circling her clit, gentle rubs to warm and wet herself. Maybe her fingers were inserted, working back and forth. Not knowing made it better, imagination taking over.
Her mouth returned to my shaft, no slowness now, plunging my head against the opening of her throat. Her hand reached behind me and gripped my ass tightly. Slowly she started pressing her head forward. Her throat was opening and my cock was sliding further. The remaining inches entered her mouth, greeted by her lips and tongue, all the while she gripped my ass tighter, pulling with her arms, pushing with her head. Then my balls came to rest against her little chin. I put my hand on the back of her head and moaned without restraint.
Jules held me there for a moment, adjusting to the girth and length, and then amazingly started to slide her lips back and forth on my shaft. I wouldn't last long like this and increased my moaning, cluing her to my condition. She increased the pace of her head and then sped her lower hand to match. Soon she was whimpering, muffled little squeals against the cock filling her mouth. But I didn't want to cum yet. Abruptly I stopped her. She looked up, pre-cum falling from her lips, still smiling.
There was a long, deep couch with a chaise lounge extending from one end, inviting us to its cushions. I motioned her to her feet and taking her hand, led her to the lounge. I laid her five foot frame across the lounge, stomach down, her breasts pressed up, hair spilling down the sides of her neck, her back completely bare, legs slightly spread, black heels pointed upward with the slight bend in her knees. I walked in front of her face and knelt in front of her, one knee down, my other leg up. I fed my length back into her mouth and sighed when her wet lips enveloped my cock once again. I placed my hands on her cheeks and began to pump my cock slowly in and out of her mouth. Removing my hands from her face, I leaned forward and placed my hand between her spread legs. My fingers found wetness, moisture running down the side of her thigh. My god, I was fucking her face and she loved it.
I worked my fingers further up her thigh, and soon found what I was looking for. I traced down the slit, searching for her clitoris. A moan against my cock told me I had found it. Using the tips of my fingers I traced around her clit, stroking over the top, sides, pressing harder, moving faster. I slipped a finger into her cunt, rubbing her clit faster. Her moaning increased. The vibrations of her muffled cries were putting me over the top. I fucked into her mouth harder, deeper, still not neglecting her clit. And then she was screaming, her legs quivering, little spasms running up my hand as her pussy clamped on my finger. Her orgasm subsided, but I kept at her, almost attacking her clit with two fingers. Then I shouted out, voice ragged, hurried, "Grab your heels!"
She complied immediately. Her body was now straining at both ends, bent like an oval, bringing her head up, allowing me to push my cock deeper. My orgasm boiled, rising through my shaft. I grabbed her head, burying my cock in her throat and began pumping cum into her sweet mouth. I threw my head back and howled. All went black.
She was straddling my chest, running the back of her hand against my cheek. "You were screaming. You fell backward."
"How long was I out?"
"Only a moment. You sounded crazed. Like...I guess I've never seen someone cum like that. Must have been good."
"You have no idea."
"Well, I guess you'll have to show me."
I reached up and stroked her cheek. She slid back until she was straddling my stomach. I was at once aware of her dripping cunt, rubbing the length of my torso. She leaned forward and our mouths met. Her lips, so soft, pressed against mine. Her tongue, so wet, danced against mine. She began to pull back, but hesitated, her lower lip dragging up across my mouth, our mingled saliva forming the barest thread between her lips and mine. She drew back again, her face hovering over me, the smirk had returned. God, she was too good to be true. Her hips shifted, sliding her sopping pussy over my stomach. "How does your cunt taste?" I asked.
Wordless. Eyes locked, she began to inch her body up mine. I reached up and grabbed her breasts. Hard. She gasped. I rolled her nipples in my fingers. She moaned. Her cunt was tantalizingly close to my mouth. I strained my head forward licked, along her thigh. Then she settled over my mouth. I stuck my tongue out, rigid, straight, and penetrated her depths. How did it taste? How does heaven taste?