For the Sake of His Honor

The master bed was large and luxurious and set in the center of the longest wall. Jacob wasted no more time looking; it was time to undress. His fingers fumbled nervously with his buttons, but soon he was naked, clothes in a heap. He was clean; he showered and shaved before he left, and dabbled with cologne. He made his way to the bed and slipped easily under the silken sheets.

And waited.

* * *

She heard him enter the bedroom, heard the rustling of his clothes and the covers on the bed. She heard his breathing, which was heavy. He was eager, of course, but she knew him well enough to believe it was, at the very least, a respectful kind of eagerness. He had done everything she asked, executed her requests perfectly, and in that moment, thinking about it, he decision made and the events set firmly in motion, unalterable now, a peculiar kind of calm descended upon Elizabeth Ross, a calm not unlike the eye of a hurricane.

And the man in the bedroom was waiting, which meant it was her turn now to act.

* * *

"Jacob?"

The voice came from his right, soft and incredibly feminine. He turned and saw her shadowy form filling the frame of the door connecting to the master bathroom. The moonlight did not reach that far and she was swathed in darkness, but he could see enough to know she was wrapped in a robe of some kind. He could not see her eyes, but he knew she was watching him.

"Yes," he replied in a wavering voice.

Her voice did not waver. "We both know what has to happen here tonight," she said quietly. "I want you to know that I love my husband very much; while it seems strange to think of it, I am doing this for him. I want to thank you for helping me. While I know you cannot help being excited to some degree, I think you are doing this for the right reasons."

He nodded, hoping she could see it, but said nothing. She remained where she was, unmoving, and continued in the same clear and quiet voice.

"There are certain things I know must happen," she said smoothly, "certain physical acts, but I ask that you allow me to remain in control. This is about the conception of my child and I will look back on these moment often in my life; I would like to look back on them with favor. It is important to me that everything that happens here tonight is my own doing."

"I understand, Lizzie," he said softly.

There was a long pause. "I believe you do," she said finally, "which is one of the main reasons I think you are the only man capable of this job. I have three additional requests."

He nodded again. "Anything," he told her.

"I would ask that you not attempt to kiss me on the lips. You may use your mouth elsewhere, if you wish, if the situation allows, but I ask that my lips remain reserved for my husband. That is my first request."

"Absolutely," he agreed.

"I'm aware that you are nervous and that this situation is unusual. I accept that the act will require some degree of touching. I will allow you to caress my body, I will allow you some measure of exploration, but I ask that you do so gently and respectfully. This is my second request."

"Of course," he promised.

"I would ask that you allow me to dictate our positioning. I'm aware that most men usually lead in these situations, but I must be the one to maintain control. I do not wish to be maneuvered into any position I do not desire. My last request is that I myself direct things."

"Very well," he told her, and he meant it.

She sighed softly. "It's time," she said in a voice scarce above a whisper. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he whispered, the word little more than a breath.

And then it happened and the dreams of Jacob Grant merged with the reality of his current situation as Elizabeth Ross deftly plucked the sash holding her robe in place and allowed the garment to fall to the floor, and stepped forward into a shaft of light that bared fully the form and figure of her luscious body.

Jacob blinked.

He could hardly believe his eyes: Elizabeth Ross was the most majestic creation he had ever seen. She stood before him, naked as the day she was born, her rounded curves illuminated by the pale silver light of the moon. His blood boiled instantly.

She was beautiful, simply gorgeous. He gazed for the first time upon the soft swell of her breasts. They were full and round, perfectly shaped teardrops rising from her chest, but also firm. Her nipples were small and light red and he watched them rise and fall with her breathing. His eyes trailed lower to gaze upon the woman's narrow waist and the downy swath of blonde between her legs, trimmed into a bikini cut. In the silver light of the moon, each and every thin pubic hair was visible. Matching blonde hair flowed from her head in waves, down past her shoulders, and her emerald green eyes seemed to catch all the light there was in the room and hold it there, shining like stars in the sky.

Elizabeth let him take in the beauty of her nakedness, allowing him to look, allowing him to study. She would need him aroused, obviously, and an excellent visual was the easiest way. After a long moment she moved forward, hips swaying slightly, to the edge of the bed. He was closer now to her than he had ever been before and she was gloriously naked, and giving herself to him.

Jacob could hardly contain his excitement; in fact, he was nearly ready to jump out of his skin. He stared into her eyes, totally without words, utterly speechless. He was happy in that moment for the sheet covering him; his arousal would be quite obvious, despite the darkness.

And then in the next moment, her movements fluid and graceful and unhurried, Elizabeth Ross slid onto the mattress of the bed and slipped beneath the covers, and suddenly her body was scant inches from his, still not touching, but tantalizingly close.

The first thing Jacob noticed was the heat. It emanated from her in waves; Jacob felt his skin begin to prickle from the stark intensity of it. Their bodies were both primed, it seemed, and reacting to each others, and that more than anything else gave him confidence.

"Be gentle," she said then, hardly making a sound, and closed the distance between them.

Elizabeth sighed as contact was made, her green eyes wide but calm, and Jacob wrapped his arms around her and embraced her, pulling her in tight, and she shivered and he rejoiced as her large breasts squished up against his chest.

Gently, comfortingly, he brought his lips to her forehead. "I am here for you," he told her.

She nodded once, tightly, and rolled away from him and onto her back. Her head sagged back into the pillow, eyes closed, but she arched her back and lifted her breasts just enough for her message to be clear: she was offering him her body.

His cock lurched.

Her breasts were truly magnificent. Turned on his side, the weight of his upper body on his right elbow and forearm, Jacob gazed down upon them and thanked the heavens above once again for the opportunity now bestowed upon him.

His left hand crept forward and grazed against the skin of her side, and trailed upward until it cupped the whole of her left breast. The mound was fleshy and full and round, and when he squeezed his fingers depressed the skin. He kneaded it gently, reverently, rolling it around his palm, catching the nipple between thumb and forefinger, enjoying the sensation of fondling a woman in a way (so simple and unencumbered, almost as if she were asleep) that he had not enjoyed a long time.

And then his attention switched to the other: he released her left breast and swept his fingers across the valley of her cleavage, and captured her right breast and massaged its doughy bulk. The right was equally as wonderful as the left and he wanted to jiggle it lewdly, but his fingers instead acquiesced to her request and handled her body respectfully.

Jacob played with her tits for several moments more, alternating back and forth, relishing the sweet feel of her flesh, before he lowered his mouth again to her forehead, kissing it gently. Her eyes opened and they stared at each other, her brilliant greens meeting his searing grays, and she gave him just the barest hint of a nod.

Continue, it said, and so he did.

He moved lower, his lips kissing her cheek and then her neck, avoiding her mouth as she wished, slavering over every inch of her slender collarbone, and then he moved lower still and she sighed again as his lips reached the soft upper swell of her bosom. His fingers trailed over her skin and glided up her arms. She trembled, knowing what he was about to do, and he gave her only a moment's opportunity to stop him before he dipped his head.

His mouth slid down into the bottomless valley of her cleavage and worked its way up the slope of her right breast, his nose indenting deeply into the pliant flesh as he went. Her skin had a deliciously sweet taste to it. He reached the crest, her nipple shriveled and hard as a pebble, and he sucked the little nub into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

It was only then, however, that he noticed something new: her breathing had changed. No more measured calm; her breath now was heavy. Her chest was heaving as she labored to breathe evenly. It thrilled him; this was a sure sign that while their goal was not her sexual satisfaction, she was deriving pleasure from his actions.

And so his lips locked over her delectable nipple and suckled it with increased fervor, and he heard her whimper softly, almost muffled, as if she did not want to recognize how good it felt. His tongue flicked against the tip, tickling her, and his teeth nipped lightly at her nipple, and she tensed and caught her breath. He switched to gentle nibbling, pulling back with his teeth and stretching the nipple out from the rest of her breast like a piece of taffy.

She gasped. "Jacob . . ." she breathed.

He raised his head and looked at her, their faces scant inches apart. Her eyes were wide and bright somehow even in the darkness, but calm, and so achingly deep and beautiful. Another moment passed between them and Elizabeth's head fell back against her pillow: she would allow him again to continue.

And so he did.

* * *

Elizabeth Ross was conflicted.

She no longer second-guessed and doubted her decision: bringing Jacob Grant into her bed was the easiest way to avert all the drama and trauma associated with the alternative, which was bringing her husband's sterility to light. No, circumventing that situation by any means necessary, including what amounted to adultery, was vital.

Elizabeth was conflicted now, however, as she lay on her back on her bed with the young man perched on his side to her left, his body firm and warm, his lips and mouth slobbering over her breasts, because she was not supposed to be feeling the way she was feeling about what was happening. She was not supposed to enjoy it so much. She wanted to feel a connection, yes; she did not want to look back on the experience of conception as an emotionless, impersonal round of casual sex, and that required walking a fine line, which was proving difficult.

Already the line was blurring and the night had hardly begun. She had not yet even seen the whole of him, nor had his actions and caresses traveled anywhere lower than her ribcage, and rarely did she derive much pleasure from it when Harrison suckled her breasts, but something about the way Jacob was touching her was intensely pleasurable, and she worried about what that might mean for the rest of the night.

She could sense his need; it crackled like sparks in the air. His every look and movement spoke of thinly veiled, carefully restrained desire. He was holding back, trying hard to respect her wishes, to grant her requests, and she knew he would strive to restrain himself most of the night. His youthful crush on her was well-documented; it was not every day a guy got the chance to bed his high school dream girl. She was hoping that element of their history would not derail her plans.

Thoughts of his desire reminded her just exactly what her situation was: she was in bed with a man who was not her husband, this man wanted her, he was pleasuring her, and the space between her legs tingled at the thought of what more was to come.

Not exactly how she had imagined things going.

"Wait," she said suddenly, and instantly he pulled his lips from her breasts and froze. She would need to let things simmer down a bit, and so she added, "Lie back." He again did exactly as he was told, rolling away from her and onto his back.

She took in the sight of his chest: hard and toned and hairless with nary an ounce of flab. He was a very good-looking guy with a very attractive body, she had to admit; her best friend's scrawny little brother had morphed into a serious hard-bodied hottie.

She touched his shoulder with a single finger and his body twitched, but settled as she stroked the finger down over his strong bicep, testing its feel. The other, she was sure, would be equally strong. Another finger joined the first and they walked delicately together towards the center of his chest.

Jacob groaned, and tried to stifle it.

She toyed with his navel and traced the ridged pattern of his abdomen: his six-pack was pronounced. He shifted his weight suddenly and the silk sheet slipped down, holding just high enough to keep him decent. She could see the hard column beneath the thin material of the sheet, hovering, waiting to emerge.

And so she pulled the sheet aside, needing at least briefly to see and know the tool by which she would become pregnant, but the sight of it caught her totally unprepared: it was the biggest and most beautiful penis she had ever seen, easily seven inches long and brutally thick. His testicles were heavy lumps hanging below.

Time seemed to slow as she studied the erection before her. It was striking, long and hard and purple and throbbing. Elizabeth was an incredibly sexual woman and the urge to take the meat before her and gobble it up was nearly unbearable, but she restrained herself; despite her fondness for giving them, blowjobs served little purpose when the goal was procreation. She licked her lips, however, an involuntary reaction to what lay before her, and felt the wetness grow between her legs, as if knowing her sex would need plenty of help fitting his sizable cock inside it. The only sound in the room was the harshness of Jacob's labored breathing. She met his eyes for only a moment; the gray pools were churning, wild with desire.

And so she rolled onto her back and dropped her head once again to the pillow, and closed her eyes, and waited for him to do what he would with her. She did not want to lead, she decided then, although she would maintain the power to stop or change any particular move or position.

He received the message loud and clear.

His hands went to her creamy breasts again and cupped them gently as he bent forward and flicked his tongue over each nipple in turn. His mouth closed over her left breast and suckled it with more fervor than before, and she felt herself spinning as pleasure washed over her.

And then his hands trailed lower over the smooth plane of her stomach, fluttering along her sides and caressing her with feathered strokes, dancing across her exposed skin, and then they moved lower and Elizabeth gasped as a finger slid into the small tendril of blonde curls below her navel, holding there for only a moment, giving her just enough time to stop him before it slid farther still over the slick pink folds of her vagina.

Elizabeth whimpered and he froze again, waiting.

When she did not say anything (knowing she should, knowing this was not exactly what she wanted, but too wrapped up in what was happening to care), his finger moved again and slithered inside her, penetrating her outer lips, slipping smoothly between the puffy folds before retreating and rising to apply gentle pressure on her swollen little nub. He circled it once, twice, three times slowly, the stiffened pink tissue saturated with juice from the depths of her pussy, and flicked at it with the flat of his thumb.

And in that moment two things were quite suddenly and thrillingly and terrifyingly clear: Jacob Grant knew what he was doing and Elizabeth was in a great deal of trouble.

* * *

His mouth still worked its wonders on her big fleshy breast as he strummed the underside of her clitoris, but the mind of Jacob Grant was alive and spinning wildly with awe and absolute delight as he pleasured the one woman in the world he assumed he would never have such times with, the girl of his adolescent dreams: Elizabeth Ross, breathtaking and beautiful and nude and beneath him, and allowing him access to the whole of her succulent body.

And it was time to seize the opportunity by the horns, as it were.

He dropped his head and peppered a series of kisses around her tummy before moving lower still, his hands pushing gently on her legs. She gasped, and not for the first time, but they parted easily and swiftly he was between them, staring down for the first time on perfection.

Bathed in a beam of silvery moonlight, it was easy for him to see her pussy was a pretty shade of pink, the kind of pussy other women envied. It was perfectly crafted with long thin lips of minimal bulge, pursed together tightly and nicely contained, the clitoris set near the top of her labia and protected, but visible and accessible. Above, the swath of blonde curls was trimmed neatly but still held a great deal of character, while the lips themselves were waxed completely.

Jacob could feel the heat radiating from her nether regions and wasted no time, not wanting Lizzie to halt his progress. It proved to be a very wise move: her body quaked violently when his mouth pressed firmly against her tight wet folds.

"Jacob!" she cried. Her voice was shocked; it was clear she had not expected him to go so far. It was also clear, as the outrage in her voice faded away, that she would not stop him. "Oh my god, what . . . what are you . . . oh my god . . . oohhhhhh . . . mmmyyyyy . . . ggggoodddddd!'

He suckled her clitoris, wrapping his mouth around it, and kissed and nibbled every inch of her slit, his lips skirting down the glistening folds, his quick and experienced tongue flittering across her puffy lips. Her juices flooded over his mouth and cheeks and chin; she was on absolute fire.

He raised his head and devoured the sight of her naked, glistening body, breasts rising like melons from her chest, her slender figure and bounty of golden hair, face frozen in a pleasure-filled grimace. He relished the subtle aroma filling his nose: sweet and saccharine, and altogether edible. In addition to looking good, her pussy smelled good and tasted good, too, although Jacob would have expected nothing less. He could hardly believe the amazingly sensual creature sprawled out before him was Elizabeth Ross, the object of his ultimate fantasy.

Which was now coming true.

And true also were the sensations the woman herself was experiencing.

Elizabeth gritted her teeth as his momentary pause ended and his lips descended upon her again, capturing her swollen lips of her labia with his teeth and nibbling at them as his fingers spread them wide, granting his mouth better access. He dragged the flat of his tongue languorously across her engorged clitoris, unrelenting as he ate her thoroughly.

His lips encircled her clitoris and suckled it vigorously, rolling his tongue around the throbbing surface. He teased the entrance to her sex with his finger, making his intention clear, and when again there was no objection, Jacob plunged it inside her to the second knuckle.

Elizabeth moaned loudly, giving up, and her hips began to tremble and her thighs began to quake, and she realized there would be no turning back for her. Her green eyes fluttered open and she wearily lifted her head to look at him, but only the top of his head and the sinewy muscles of his back were visible as he labored between her thighs.