Taking Charge Pt. 05

His achingly hard penis jerked inside me, getting harder, longer, wider, swelling up and up and up. I looked into Jake's eyes, mad with lust and need, truly, truly mad, saw them boring into mine, his face only inches away and red with exertion. Then it happened. He pushed a fraction of an inch deeper, his great condomless cock finding a new home in the deepest part of me, and with horrible and ecstatic fascination, I watched him come. The heat of him gushing into me, spewing forth hot semen like there was no tomorrow, it brought me again. I came while his naked cock just erupted inside my fertile body, disgorging what felt like gallons and gallons of marriage-destroying, sperm-filled cum into the furthest depths of my clinging cunt (yes, let's just call it what it is), spewing into me with such mind-blowing power that I could feel his thick cream filling me up. I could even see it, in my mind, the crown of Jake's big dick drowning in white, then his shaft, my tiny vagina just overwhelmed by his ejaculate. And the entire time, Jake gazed hotly into my eyes.

I gazed back into his, crying with release and terror, at this godlike man that had just shown me even greater heights of ecstasy, that was even now spilling his seed so very deep inside me. The fear was there, that he could get me pregnant, that it could be happening even now, that his hot semen could be filling up my womb as we spoke, spilling into my fallopian tubes and drowning my ovaries in white.

No, anatomy doesn't allow that at all, but holy shit, it sure felt like it did.

We had crossed a line. A hard, horrible line, from which there might be no turning back. And so, with Jake's huge tumescence jerking and spurting inside me, I held his face and brought his mouth to me and I kissed him.

Chapter 16

The side of his head was pressed against mine and his entire body was shaking. He had gingerly released my legs, and I had wrapped them around his waist and held him to me -- though he was supporting most of his weight on his elbows. I wasn't wearing much makeup at all, but what was there must have been streaking down my cheeks from crying.

"Are you mad?" he asked breathlessly.

He was asking about coming inside me.

I wasn't worried about it though. I wasn't really worried about anything, really. Not even the naked cock lodged so deep within me and corking all of that hot rich cum inside my body. Asking him to pull out was pointless, really. The damage had been done. We just had to deal with it now. Besides, his still rock-hard cock felt fucking amazing inside me.

"No, Jake. I'm not mad."

He pushed up onto his arms, which pulled his thick hair away from my hands, and he frowned down at me. "Really?"

"Really." I smoothed my hands down his ripped upper body, then lightly but threateningly raked my nails down his stomach. "But you can't do that again."

He nodded once, then grinned. "Hey, what happened to 'if it happens, it happens'?"

I gave him a lazy and very satisfied smile. "That only applies to my husband, Jake."

"Does it?" he challenged.

I felt oddly calm and centered as I told him, "You already have this much of me. You can't have any more."

He looked at me for a long time, and eventually gave me a crooked smile.

After cleaning up -- God, I hated that he had to take himself out of me -- and getting back into my shorts and tee shirt, we had a nice lunch of soup and sandwiches. He told me more about his ongoing affair with Lana Biddleston. I don't think he was at all worried about me telling anyone, either because I wouldn't or because he just didn't care if anyone knew. He was very devil-may-care about the whole thing. To him, Lana was a 'nice taste of strange' (his words) now and then, but she was a 'self-absorbed bitch' (also his words). It didn't matter to him how 'tight her cunt' was (and here) or how 'fuckable of a throat' she had (and lastly this), Jake could only handle her in small doses.

"She too much woman for you to handle?" I teased.

Jake smirked. "Maybe 'deal with' would be a better choice of words."

I fixed him a skeptical look. "She can really take you down her throat?"

"To the hilt," he grinned. "You could too."

"I don't think so," I laughed, raising my arms to get at the clasp at the back of my neck.

"No." He shook his head, and when I frowned, he pushed his chair away from the table and patted his thigh. "Come here."

I let go of the clasp and got up to go sit astride his lap. Jake lightly fingered the lace at the side of my neck. "This stays on." I opened my mouth to ask why but he cut me off. "This means you're mine, Rebecca."

"But..."

Jake picked me up and sat me on the edge of the table, wrapping one big hand around the back of my neck and pushing the other inside the leg of my shorts. His fingers found my wet center -- Really? I was already wet? -- and pushed inside, making me gasp.

"It means I can have you whenever I damn well please."

His fingers felt so good inside me. I spread my legs to give him easier access. Jake pumped his fingers in and out of me slow but deep, curling then back and rubbing against that spot on my roof that had me gushing into his palm in no time at all. His hand remained locked on the nape of my neck, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"And I intend to do that, Rebecca," he murmured, pulling his slick fingers out of me and sucking them clean. His hand on my neck loosened and trailed around the front, tapping the small medallion there. "This stays on, unless I tell you otherwise."

I was flushed with heat from head to toe. "What if I need to go out?"

His hand slid into my shorts again and the tips of his fingers resumed playing with me, lightly brushing up and down my vagina. His expression was neutral, as though we were merely talking and he wasn't doing anything untoward down there. "Do you need to go out today?"

Oh, I really did. "Yes."

His fingers dipped inside me, just a little, but enough that it took my breath away.

"Put it back on when you get home."

I nodded and bit my lower lip. Jake leaned forward and kissed me, soft and sweet and at length. When his fingers finally left me, the need that he had been building within me didn't go away. I couldn't stand the loss of contact, so I sought it out with my hands, exploring his chest and stomach. When he began to pull away, I followed him, pressing my lips firmly against his and licking his mouth.

Jake chuckled. I didn't think it was funny, so I pushed my hands under his tee shirt and up his chest. Jesus, his body felt amazing. Jake groaned and took hold of my waist, thumbs on my stomach and fingers across my back. I felt so tiny when I was with him.

"I have to go back to work," he murmured against my lips.

I just kept kissing him, kept running my hands over his body, down his washboard abs.

"I really have to go."

If he had just stopped kissing me and stepped away, I would have been fine. But his lips were so soft and he smelled and tasted so good. But he kept kissing me, so I pushed my hands into his shorts. He wasn't hard, but long and thick and so warm in my hands.

"Fuck," he groaned, gripping my waist tightly, and he kissed me hard, all tongue and teeth. Grabbing my hair, he held it tight in his hand and looked at me. "Fine. Five minutes."

With fire in his eyes, he pushed me onto my back on the table and grabbed my ankles, then he lifted my legs to pull off my shorts. I watched him over my heaving chest, pushing his shorts down and sliding his hands down my legs to behind my knees. He spread my legs and sheathed himself inside me. I was more than ready for him as his cock tore into my body, stretching and filling faster than I could process. He thrust maybe half a dozen times before I felt his groin press against me.

"Oh God, Jake," I moaned, twisting my upper body against the table, the feel of him just lodged inside me was insane, like a huge, hot and unyielding bar.

Holding my waist tight and pinning me to the table, Jake began to rock his hips, fucking me oh so deep, never taking out more than half of his thick pulsing length. He was pushing into me faster than before, but still fighting for every inch. My belly tightened within mere moments, my insides awash with heat and arousal. He fucked me like a machine, like his only purpose in life was to fuck, like he was born and bred for it. He plunged into me again and again and again until my spine was bowed and my head was thrown back with my nails scratching across the table. I came explosively, dimly aware that hot fluid was spraying all over my torso.

"Jesus," I sighed, brushing sweaty hair out of my eyes.

"That's not what the medallion stands for."

I laughed.

He was stuffing his soft but impressive penis into his shorts when I pushed up onto my elbows. I looked down over my body, at the shocking amount of semen that Jake had gushed all over me. There were hugely thick lines of the stuff that stretched from my stomach to neck and shoulders. Some of it had shot past me, onto the table, and a few globs had even found my face. It was impossible to count how many times he had ejaculated, since I was such a mess, but the sight of so much cum on my pale skin was arousing in and of itself.

Jake put his hands on the table outside of my thighs and leaned over me. "See you tonight?" He said it so casually, like I wasn't his best friend's wife that he'd just painted with semen.

I nodded and he smiled, then he gave me a quick kiss on the top of my well-fucked vagina. The electricity that shot through me made me cry out and flop back onto the table. Jake left, chuckling the entire way.

After cleaning up the kitchen, I took another quick shower -- God, he was just murdering our water bill -- then threw on jeans and a camisole and headed out. I needed to pick up groceries, check in with Shirley Davenford at the YMCA, and make a stop at the drug store. I waved to Margaret and Janie at the supermarket (Any kids yet?), talked to older-than-dirt George Waltin in the checkout lane (Howis Ryan these days?), and finally made my way to the YMCA.

I volunteered there during the summer breaks, arranging and overseeing activities for the local kids. The idea was to keep them busy, to keep them out of trouble. It was only twice a week, since our area had so many volunteers, but I enjoyed helping out regardless. Shirley was the activities coordinator, a sweet older woman with eight children that were all grown up. She often said she got her kid-fix at the Y, since her grandchildren were all in their mid- to late twenties. I was looking forward to refereeing that Friday's Super Water Volleyball match. Think of a typical volleyball game, then add a third player on each side with pump-action water guns. They had to stay outside the lines, but they could take one shot at any player during an exchange. It was amusing, watching a perfect spike or serve get messed up with a well-aimed shot of water to the face.

Finally, I stopped at the drug store for a morning-after pill.

By the way, if you think Plan-B is the same as an abortion pill, go educate yourself, now.

By the time I got home, I figured that I had enough time to pack away the groceries and put dinner in the oven. As it turned out, Jake ended up running late. I started a round of laundry and was folding clothes in the living room when he finally walked in.

"How was your day?" I asked cheerily, then cringed. I'd never asked him that before. It was the kind of question reserved for my husband.

Jake laughed and shook his head on the way to the kitchen. "You are so incredibly domesticated, Rebecca."

I blushed deeply. It wasn't so much the question itself that was so embarrassing, but the way in which I'd asked it, eager and excited to hear about his day. It was just an automatic thing, that when Ryan would come home I would give him the opportunity to share his success or grumble. So when Jake walked in, the question just popped out. I hadn't actually intended the question to be for him, though he apparently thought so.

And besides, what was so wrong with being domesticated?

Jake came back to the living room with a cold bottle of beer. "Need a hand?"

I threw a pair of boxers into his face in reply and he laughed. He pulled them off his face and looked at them. "Well, at least they were mine. Yours would have been better."

I glared at him, but his wide grin made me smile regardless. He seemed to take great delight in that.

"How did it go with Mrs. Biddleston?"

He snorted while folding a towel. "She was pissed. By the time I got over there, her husband was home."

"Oh, poor Lana," I said dramatically with a hand over my heart. "No extramarital nookie today? How will she ever get by?"

He grinned. "None for her, anyway."

I blushed again and looked away. The silence that filled the room was really uncomfortable. Neither of us broke it. We just kept folding laundry. While doing so, I tried to break it down, to understand what was bothering me. It was his wry comment about Lana not getting any extramarital sex and the implication that I would.

Why did that bother me? I'd gone into this affair with both eyes open. I was fucking my husband's best friend -- well, no, I was lettinghim fuckme -- but I was okay with it by that point. I had settled with my demons, in a manner of speaking. So why did talking about it make me uncomfortable?

Then it hit me. It wasn't talking about the affair that bugged me. It was the casual conversation mixed in with it that did. Jake and I had been bantering like we were good friends, nothing untoward until he'd just thrown it out there, the reminder that we were definitely not just good friends. We couldn't be.

"You okay over there?" he finally broke the silence.

"I can't be your friend while we're...doing this," I told him, struggling to say what I really meant.

"Doing what?"

I sighed. He was egging me on, pushing me to just say it.

"You know what."

"No, I don't."

His unexpectedly close proximity made me jump. He was standing right behind me. Not touching, but I could feel him there.

"Having an affair," I replied.

"We're not having an affair," he said quietly.

"What would you call it then?"

Jake pulled my hair to the side and kissed the back of my neck, making me shudder from head to toe. His hands held my hips, one smoothing around to my stomach, along that bare patch of skin between my jeans and camisole.

"Fucking," he breathed into my ear. He kissed the soft skin just behind my ear, then below it, trailing soft and warm kisses down my neck and shoulder. "An affair implies an emotional connection, a betrayal of the heart." He pushed his hand under my shirt and up my chest, cupping my full naked breasts, while the other slid around to my tummy and unsnapped my jeans. "We don't have an emotional connection. Do we?"

"No," I sighed.

"That's good." Dragging my zipper down, Jake pushed his hand down the front of my jeans and over my panty-covered mound. It was a tight fit, but the pressure of his fingers against my vagina felt wonderful. "Because I have no interest in dating you or marrying you."

His hands slid out of my shirt and jeans, then he pushed my jeans and panties down my thighs.

"Good," I told him as he knelt behind me, trailing kisses down my back and bare butt. When my jeans and underwear hit my ankles, I stepped out of them. "I don't want to date you or marry you either."

Jake chuckled and, still kneeling and kissing my naked ass, he spread my legs and caressed his hands up and down the sides of my body. "Why?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but all that came out was a wordless groan as Jake pressed two fingers up against my wet mound.

"Why, Rebecca?"

"Because I'm already married," I sighed, bending over when his hands pushed me to do so. I flopped forward and grabbed the back of the couch for support. I was bent way over at the waist, at a nearly perfect ninety-degree angle, with my ass thrust out at him.

Jake slid his hands down to my hips and ass, thumbs spreading the cheeks of my butt apart. It was embarrassing and so fucking hot.

"But you're fucking me, not him."

"Only because...God!" I couldn't finish, because he was licking me from behind, quick swipes of his big tongue right up my center. "Jake!"

"Tell me," he growled into my vagina.

"I'm only...fucking you...Jesus!" I was pushing against the couch with my arms, shoving my hot center against his mouth. "Because he isn't...fucking me."

He licked me deeply, pressing his nose into the crack of my ass, then said, "So, if he was fucking you, I'd just be left out in the cold then?"

I shoved my ass into his face. "Less talking, more licking."

He laughed but did as told, but only for a few seconds, just long enough to bring me to the brink before his tongue left me again. "Answer me."

I twisted my upper body to glare at him. "I'm sure you'd have no difficulty finding a hot little body to keep you warm."

He raised an eyebrow and pushed a finger inside me, making me groan. "Does it bother you that I fuck other women?"

"Who have you...uhhn!" I couldn't finish, because he rubbed that spot inside me. I don't know how he did it, since the angle was all wrong, but he managed. He kept at it until I was leaking all over his hand. "You haven't...brought anyone home since we...since we started..."

"Fucking?" he said, adding another finger inside me.

"Yes!" I hissed, delighting at the intrusion of his long thick digits.

"Why would I need to?" he asked, pulling his fingers out of me and making me whimper. "I can fuck you whenever I want."

His achingly huge cock just knifed into me. The sudden intrusion ripped a ragged scream out of my throat as he sunk well over half of his incredible manhood inside me in one thrust. He pulled out and pushed back in, cramming more of his fat prick into my body before pulling back to just his broad tip. I pushed back at him for more, but he moved away at the same time.

"You still haven't answered me," he said, laying his hands on my hips to hold me still.

"What...what was the question?" I asked with a moan.

He laughed and said, "If Ryan was fucking you, would you still be fucking me?"

"No."

He held still inside me. I pushed back at him but his hands held tight to my hips, and I couldn't move. "You'd just stop fucking me entirely? Just like that?"

"Yes!"

"Then I guess I should make the most of this."

Jake pushed back into me until he was balls deep in my soupy cunt. I screamed again, my body shaking and shivering and insides rippling around him. He began fucking me, pumping that shockingly huge cock of his in and out of me from balls to crown, steady and firm thrusts, pistoning back and forth. The feel of so much hard cock moving in and out of me was insane, electrifying, mind-blowing. He had me climaxing in no time at all and buried himself to the hilt.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, rotating his hips and grinding his turgid member inside me.

While my climax raged through me, prolonged by the enormous prick still lodged so deep in my body that I swore his great crown was pressing against my lungs, I heard him fumbling around behind me, the rustle of paper and then a popping sound.

"I got you something today."

"You did?" I murmured, licking my lips and relishing the final waves of orgasm that ebbed and flowed through my limbs.

Something slippery and somewhat firm pressed against my anus. I gasped and shot upright, but Jake put a hand between my shoulders and shoved me back down.

"What are you...?"

Before I could finish, he pushed, and that lubed thing stretched my ass. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly uncomfortable. My anus strained, then strained some more. Whatever it was, apparently it was tapered, widest at the middle, because it popped inside and my sphincter snapped shut around it. The pressure in my ass was putting even more pressure inside my overstuffed vagina, and the feel of his cock stretching and filling me became even more intense. He flexed his dick inside me and I was coming again.