Jenn, Commanded Ch. 02

Part 2

The Next Morning

(Note: It really helps to read Part 1 first.

Patience is its own reward.)

I didn't sleep the sleep of the righteous that night. More like I spent the night dreaming the dreams of the stoned. Unsurprisingly, given everything from the night before, the dreams were about Jenn. Some involved my finger tracing circles around her nipple. And some of them involved kneeling. And when I woke up for good at five, I already had a strangely - and scarily - clear idea of what I was going to do.

*

I got out of bed, grabbed a batch of my ties from the hanger in the closet and knotted them into lengths. Then went down the hall in my underwear to Jenn's room, stood inside and watched her. She was still deep asleep, the covers kicked off overnight, laying curled in nothing but her black panties. One arm wrapped demurely across her chest. A pretty, chaste looking almost-naked woman.

Are you sure, man? I asked myself.

Then thought again about what she'd told me as she drifted to sleep.

"Yeah. Definitely. Sure," I said out loud.

It would be for her.

Even if this was all fucked up and was the end of things for the two of us, and I would have to move out, humiliated, it would still be okay.

Because it would be for her.

It didn't take long. I went to her and nudged her onto her back, then knotted one set of ties around her left wrist and the bed post. Then her leg, then her other leg. Lastly, her right arm. She stirred from time to time as I manipulated her limbs, but (maybe because the weed was strong) she never woke.

And when I was done, I retreated to squat against a wall.

And waited.

*

It didn't take long. She tried to move out of her spread-eagled position, but the ties held her and she came groggily awake. It took a few tugs before she realized what was happening. Another couple tugs until she saw me.

"Tommy," she said. "What the fuck?"

"What do you think?"

"Jesus Christ, Tommy, you did this? Untie me, you fuck. I'm, like, naked here."

I shook my head.

"Come on, Tommy, I have to pee. Bad."

"Go ahead," I told her.

"Tommy, what the ..." Then a slow realization seems to wash over her face. "Tommy, you fuck. Are you...? Oh, man, just stop. Come on, untie me. I really gotta pee."

"I told you, no. But go ahead."

"Pee? In the bed?"

"Yeah, pee in the bed."

She pulls against the ties but they're tightly knotted and they hold.

"You fuck. You're not going to let me, are you?"

"No," I told her. "I'm not."

She angles her head up to look at me, then a smile grows slowly on her face and a dark wetness spreads on the sheet beneath her legs. The room takes on a faint tang of ammonia.

When she's done, she lies in her puddle, looks at me, asks:

"Are you doing this coz of what I said last night? I mean, Jesus, what did I say last night?"

"That you ditched on Anthony because he wouldn't do this to you."

"With me."

"Yeah, Jenn. With you."

We look at each other for a long time. I look at her near-perfect boobs. She looks at me.

"Jesus, Tommy, okay, this is, like really hot. Is this really happening? God, I'm wet inside."

"To tell you the truth, I was worried you might wake up this morning and have all kind of buyer's remorse about ditching Anthony. I thought it'd help if you had a taste of what you'd be missing if you did."

"How'd you know I wouldn't just scream?"

"It was kind of a risk. I figured the worst that could happen was we'd both be embarrassed and we'd never be able to look at each other again."

"And now you're looking at my boobs instead. Improvement, I guess. I mean, I know. I never once, ever, felt like this with him." I sit at the edge of the bed, stroke one shin and ankle. She moves in her ties at my touch.

"I never thought you ..." she starts to say. But I lean over, touch a finger to her lips, then slide that finger past into the warm confine of mouth, teeth, tongue.

"You were wrong," I whisper.

She is compliant. Her lips part for my finger. I feel her tongue moving on my skin. Pressure of cheeks as she sucks on me. And then I withdraw it, sit up, run my hand across the breast I'd touched last night, then across her soft, slightly capacious body, down under her panties. Looking at her, drinking in all of her with my eyes. Tell the truth, she looked unexpectedly beautiful to me. Tied, exposed, puffy eyed from sleep, spread eagled in a puddle of her own piss. Ridiculously, incongruously beautiful.

With my free hand, I reach inside my shorts, stroke what's happening down there.

"Okay," Jenn said, then gasped as my finger found the body-warm wetness inside. "You made me piss myself and you touched my pussy. We done now?"

I don't answer.

Instead, I take my hand away from her, get up and leave the room, leave her alone, tugging ineffectually at the ties the bind.

When I come back, I've got a scissors. I get up on the bed again, this time between Jenn's legs. I open the scissors, slide its arms over and under her black fuck-me panties, and snip.

"Come on, Tommy, those cost money."

"Come on. You probably bought 'em at Target."

"Victoria's Secret." she corrected. "They cost forty fuckin' bucks."

"Money well spent," I tell her. I draw the scissors back, sharp metal on skin, set it aside, then rip the rest of the fabric apart with my hands.

She's shaved. Round, slightly dark labia that matches the olive color of her skin. Her bound legs are drawn sufficiently apart that the pink inside of her is open to my eyes and, after a moment, again my hand. She is, as she had longed for her rejected Anthony to make her, soaking wet beneath my fingers. I move though the soft inside of her, find the knob of her and draw my fingers on and around it. She sucks in breath at my touch. Her ass moves in the damp bed, recoiling, coming back.

Says: "Jesus, Tommy. I didn't know you had this in you."

"Full on Rambo," I tell her. Fingers moving. "You like this?"

"Yeah," Jenn tells me. Her dark eyes fixing on mine. I find her vagina, push two fingers half-roughly inside her.

I am touching the inside of my roommate's body.

Jen grunts at my entry, sucks in breath, says, "Yeah. Goddammit, I do."

Then I withdraw my fingers and my hand from her inside. Bend down, take in the rich, sour, ammoniated smell of her. And finally bury my face in her pussy, breathing her, breathing on her, tasting her with my lips and tongue. I probe her, licking inside her vagina, then moving to touch her clitoris with my tongue.

Jenn inhales hard as I move my tongue in a circle inside her, teasing on her clit, says: "Fuck. Tommy. You are the best. Roommate. Ever."

I stay buried inside her, her wetness soaking my face, my tongue pushing harder against the knob of flesh at the top of her cleft. She raises herself into me. Her breath gets ragged, dissolves into short, rough pants. "Fuck, Tommy, you're gonna make me come..."

And I stop.

I sit up, look down at her swollen labia.

"Oh, god, Tommy," Jenn practically begs. "C'mon, let me come."

I smile at her.

"When I tell you you can," I tell her.

She writhes in her ties, in frustration.

Says: "Oh, fuck you, man, I'm dying here, you asshole."

"You don't control it, kid," I croon at her. "I do. You're gonna do what I tell you. You're gonna come when I tell you you can."

Jenn bucks in her ties, says, "Come on, Tommy, my cunt's on fire. Jesus, I don't think I ever said 'cunt' to him."

"Say it to me then. Tell me what you want me to do to your cunt."

"Oh, god, go down on me again."

"Go down where?"

"On my cunt, asshole. Cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt."

And bursts out laughing.

She seems, for the first time since I walked in the door with my celibate pizza, happy.

"Not yet," I tell her.

By now, I'm majorly hard. I kneel up beside her, pull my shorts down over it. Then, with one hand, angle it downwards, to move its shaft along the soft skin of her cheek, then her lips. Ever compliant, she brings her tongue out to touch my uncircumcised glans and it is like she has touched an electric circuit, a shock of sensation washes up through my belly, down into my balls.

"Oh fuck, Jenny," I tell her. "I gotta tell you. I kinda like this too."

She smiles, lifts her head enough that she can take me inside her mouth.

I'm enveloped by warmth, the soft, slow movement of her tongue.

I move to straddle her and now am able to push, slowly so she does not choke, but very deliberately into her. She takes me in, letting her tongue slide down along the underside of my shaft. It feels amazing - as if I am moving along a slowly undulating carpet made of soft flesh. I push into her, withdraw, push in, withdraw again.

After a moment, she makes a murmured sound and moves her head aside, which I read as discomfort (I am beginning to get the hang of this, this pushing of the boundary of forcing her to the place that turns her on but not beyond) and I lift myself out of her and turn to the delivery rather than the reception of pleasure.

But it is still, for me, pleasurable (this is what I am beginning to understand), to slide my hard-on down along her body as I lick the skin of her sweet-perfect breasts, take her nipples between my lips, suckling on her, then using my teeth to pull them - not entirely gently - upward. Then moving down again across the generous softness of her belly, the rich expanses of her thighs.

"Oh, god, yeah," Jenn whispers as my tongue and lips finally find the swollen lips at the bottom of her body. "Go on, Tommy, use your tongue," and then, paradoxically liberated by being tied, she yells out loud the word she never used with him, "Tommy, please, my cunt!"

And I do.

Because this new thing, this taking away her control, is a delicate balance: a dance, a duo, a partnership, in which she must feel simultaneously, safe, protected and overmastered. And we are, suddenly, Jenn and I, partners in sex in a way I've never been before with any woman.

I put my tongue, gently, roughly into her cunt.

She writhes now, she is all sensation, she pushes up, into and away from me as I grab both sides of her ass and pull her body to me, plunging my tongue inside her, feeling, tasting the slicked, invisible walls of her vagina, then withdrawing to concentrate on her inner lips, her clitoris (she gasps loudly, transported, as I touch her there). And all the while, I am moving below, letting my penis drift against the soft flesh of a leg. The end of it all is building inside my body and (I can feel from her sounds and shudders) in hers as well. And it is time now and I wheel on top of her and find with my hand and then with the end of me the soft wet center of her.

And with two fingers guide myself inside her.

She is bound beneath me, there is so little movement available to her, but she does what she can, pushing upward as I thrust down, taking me deep into her interior - her self! - until our pubic bones all but collide and merge. It is amazing. I don't know if this is rough sex, wild sex or any kind of sex you can put a name to. It is just two people, one bound, the other not, dancing to the same fierce and kinky music, our bodies a tandem of fear, sensation and rich blind motion (thinking, this is what love is. This is what love could be) until I feel inside of her the rolling contractions of her orgasm beginning. I pull her head half violently up to mine, put my lips to her and whisper permission into her ear (thinking, this is what love is. This is what love could be).

And Jenn comes.

It is a flood, her head arching away from me, her breasts rising into me, while I push the place where we are joined down into the mattress. She comes loudly, making plaintive noises as if begging for me, for her own body, to stop because the sensation is unbearable. And I hear, distantly, my own voice, uncontrolled, uncontrollable, building with Jenn's into a rough harmonic. And finally, the squeezing, squeezing of her inner self around my moving, plunging, almost burning member takes me over, obliterates me into my own pulsing spasms and, impelled by biology, I push completely into Jenn and empty myself inside her, richly, fiercely, seemingly endlessly until it is done, we're both done, and I fall onto her bound body, each of us twitching, we are electric wires, tethered together, our bodies bound by a diminishing, uncontrolled, dancing.

For a long while, we do not move. I lie atop her belly, her breasts, my legs extend along hers. I am still deep inside her - Jenny, my roommate, my what? My lover? My prisoner? The sheets are damp beneath us from sweat, piss, all of our fluids melded.

"Whoa," I whisper into the shell of an ear. "I never ..."

Eventually, I try to leave her, but the sensation is still too intense, so I stop and fall back into her, and she amuses both of us for a while by contracting herself and softly squeezing me in there.

It is fucking exquisite.

And when, at last, I do pull out of her, my dick has barely detumesced.

I fall beside her, my head resting on one bound arm, my remaining half hard-on rising stubbornly above my belly.

"So, what?" I ask. "Are we boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

She turns to dark-eyed look at me. Says, "I don't know. I don't know what we are. Jesus, Tommy, I just told the guy I've been with for eight years that I wouldn't marry him. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't even know who I am right now. But, Jesus, I always wanted ... and I never have ... and this was ... fuckin' amazing. I've never in my life come like that."

"It was just a couple of ties," I murmur.

"Yeah," Jenn says. "I know that. I know."

She looks down my body to my stubborn penis, says, "Untie me now, Tommy."

And I know it is time and I do, kneeling beside her, one limb after the other. My dick still bobbing, engorged and sensitive, at the bottom of my belly.

Jenn sits beside me, rubbing her wrists and ankles. Reaches over and touches my unremitting erection. Asks, "Do you think it'll ever go down?"

"No idea," I tell her. "if it lasts four hours, I'll consult my physician."

"Don't worry, roomie," she tells me.

And pushes forward off the bed, squats and puts her hands on my thighs. Tugs me toward her. Says, still breathless: "Sit here, Tom."

I do what she asks, led by my endless hard-on.

"Okay," Jenn says to me. And twists her body to place herself between my knees.

Smiles at me, says,

"Next."

And, gathering my bizarrely still operational penis between her hands, gets down - worshipfully (and worshipped) - onto her knees.