Jenny Girl Ch. 03

The waiter looked to where Jenny had been seated. The only thing there was her crumpled blouse. Tim caught his attention as he put the coffee on the table. Tim pointed to the table over the place where Jenny was crouched under it and the waiter sucked in a breath, as he understood.

"Oh shit man." He stared at the table, "Holy shit."

Jenny froze underneath the table. Slowly and with intent, Tim used his hand on the back of her head to push her down. It was a primal sweet victory when she took him in and kept stroking him with her mouth, even with the other man standing there.

"Do you need anything?"

"Go the fuck away for now."

Tim took a rough breath. As the curtain slid closed and they were alone again, the intensity of the situation pushed him over the edge. Swallowing and biting back sound his orgasm forced through him and into her eager hot little mouth. His balls ached and tingled, hips flexing into her sucking heat. The back of his knuckles scraped the bottom of the table as he protected the back of her head. So good. So sweet. It left him panting. Her small trembling body tucked between his legs. He felt powerful, like a God.

"Jesus Jenny." He settled his forehead on the tablecloth, "You are a gift to me." He slid his fingers across her face, her wet mouth, "I love you."

She pressed her face into his hand.

"Come up baby, I want to look at you."

She slid back up into the booth; her hair tangled and mussed, her ponytail askew. Her lips were reddened. She looked kissable, fuckable.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

She brought her hands up, smoothing her hair and smiled at him.

"Put your shirt back on Jenny and tug your skirt down. It's time we paid for dinner."

She found her voice, "We have money. I have money." She had to try twice to get her bra to fasten.

He held her gaze, "Trust me."

...

Tim almost changed his mind as the waiter opened the back door to the office. The back office was dusty and full of boxes and a crowded desk covered in papers. There wasn't a lot of room and only a few wooden chairs. Jenny was trembling against his side, within the circle of his arm.

When they stepped inside their waiter shut the door behind them. The sound of the door locking was loud, even with the rumble of the chaos of the next-door kitchen in the background.

In his mid thirties the owner sat in a nicely tailored suit on the edge of his desk. Tim tightened his arm around Jenny as the man looked at her appraisingly.

The suit tapped a cigarette on his desk and said to the waiter, "She doesn't look like the type."

Jenny turned her face into Tim's shoulder and he slid his hand reassuringly to her hip.

"She is man," the waiter said, "She was under his fucking table sucking the hell out of his cock, you could hear the wet sounds. And her pussy's a brand. He let me touch her."

The boss looked from the waiter to Jenny, gaze slow and appraising. Tim chuckled and slid his hand up and cupped the side of Jenny's breast, "She's a good girl." She swayed toward him to shift away from the intimate gesture, but just found herself more against his side. He made his touch on her breast more possessive, "Aren't you Jenny?"

She swallowed and swayed a little, "Yes Sir."

"My girl"

"Yes Sir."

He felt a hot surge of pleasure and released her breast, fingers trailing down over her ribs. He tilted his head toward the waiter, "He said you wanted to see her."

The man didn't even pause, thin lips curving into a tight smile, "I said I wanted to see you fuck her."

He felt Jenny jolt with shock. Hell, they had had that experience in Jenny's bed, but they hadn't, he hadn't yet taken her. The perversion of fucking her the first time, in front of others, made his spine prickle and the hair on his arms rise on point. She looked at him with misery, and he thought of the bus, her flip tone at the dorm, his stepfather's fucking name on the door.

Tim pushed her a little in front of him and she stumbled. He did not let her fall. Seating himself in a wooden chair he pulled her back into his lap, positioning her so that she faced the strangers. She tried to twist around and look at him, eyes wide and fearful. "Tim you can't mean to. Oh Jesus please. Tim." He gripped her ponytail and jerked her head around forward, one arm braced around her, bringing her back solidly against his chest. Her body seated firmly against his lap.

"He husked into her ear, "Spread your legs Jenny, one on either side of my own." She groaned low and pitiful and he felt her trembling. She was scared. He could feel her fear, and her desire as well. She fumblingly did as he asked, her arms folded over her chest and her shoulders rolled in protectively. Her long pretty legs spread lewdly over his own.

"Good girl."

The man at the desk smirked and took a pull from his cigarette, and the waiter sidled a bit back into the room so that he could see better, see the v of her panties that her short skirt showed, and the damp center where she had soaked through.

Tim released her pony tail and slowly begin to trace his fingers up along her thighs, back and forth, breathing against her neck, watching the other men watch his pretty little sister, his woman, his whore. Her eyes were closed, damp lashes against her cheeks and slowly she began to relax just a little. He waited for that little lift of her hips and when it came he cupped his hand possessively over the curve of her pubic bone and squeezed. She groaned. The man at the desk laughed and she curved forward as if to hide. Tim slid his hand up to the center of her chest and brought her back up against him, exposing her, leaning back with her. He slid his fingers under the line of her panties and wet his fingers along her labia before gliding across her swollen clit. He couldn't believe how wet she was. She squirmed pitifully, and he growled at her, low against her neck. She stilled, breath coming in little pants. He pushed two fingers into her abruptly, roughly, claiming territory. "My girl. Mine to do with as I please." She made a little choking sound and hot tears slid down her cheeks.

"Don't make me do this. I'm sorry I was flip earlier. I promise I won't. Tim. Please I beg you." Her words cut off as he shifted his hand and rocked the edge of his thumb back and forth across her clit. The sound she made was pitiful, as if he was hurting her. And perhaps he was, but not with this little touch. She made a mewling sound deep in her throat and shuddered hard.

"Mine to do with as I please. Fucking say it Jenny." He began to fuck her with his fingers, keeping contact against her clit. His cock pressed hard as a rock under her, confined painfully in his pants. " Say you are mine. You seemed so happy about it earlier."

The waiter leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "You can smell her. How much she wants it. Like a bitch in season." The suit snorted, dark eyes riveted to the slide of Tim's fingers into her wet cunt, panties twisted to the side.

Jenny jerked as if she'd been slapped, but Tim held her, forced her to stay where he wanted her, pushing her higher. Pleasure fire lined in spirals out into her body. She squirmed and twisted in his lap and he could feel her begin to tense around his fingers.

"Say it."

She groaned and threw her head back against his shoulder, teeth gritting. Her hands fell to the backs of his wrists, her pink nails biting into him. He did not care, could hardly feel the sting and bite, blood rushing in his head, the sense of power and control intoxicating.

Her back lifted in hard fine little jerks and he felt how close she was. "Say it."

"Yours," she cried out, "Oh God, Tim." Her legs slid against his as her knees came up as her body contorted, her orgasm hitting her and rolling through her body like a flash rainstorm, hitting like strikes of lightening, frisioning down her nerve endings. "I'm yours." She panted pitifully, words coming between hard primal pulses. When the waves began to slow, she was bent forward, head hanging, panting. Tendrils of her hair against her damp neck, clinging to her cheek, lips parted, eyes dilated and lust blind. Only slowly did she see again, the legs of strangers. Polished black shoes. Shame waved in through her, turning her scarlet in his arms.

He withdrew his hand from her body and reached around painting her mouth and cheeks with her own wet. "You want me to fuck you in front of them. Feel how wet you are."

She shrunk on his lap. He had denied her before, but was now offering and she did want him, with brilliant intensity. Tim pushed her forward enough that he could unfasten his trousers. The cool air and exposure made him throb, the softness of her skirt against the back of his hands. Defeated, head bowed she sat trembling, thighs parted. Tim reached out and claimed her head by her ponytail, bringing it up, making her look at the men.

"They want me to fuck you in front of them."

"Hell yeah." The waiter said, rubbing the side of his hand against his crotch, blatantly adjusting himself. The suit managed a sarcastic smile, a curl of his lips and another slow drag on his cigarette.

Tim drew her yielding body backward, dragging her up his thighs, "Lift." He commanded, and she did. Her hands pressed down on his knees and she lifted her hips for him. The unbelievable sweetness of her submission made him hurt and throb. Her hips arched back so sweetly, offering herself to him. She wanted him, whatever the price. He settled the head of his cock against her tender wet folds. She was sweet hot like a brand, fluid and willing. He found his voice was almost gone as he whispered into her hair, "Down."

Molten, infinite sweetness, gods she was snug as hell. He groaned into her hair and his hands gripping her hips pulling her more fully down against him. She made the most pitiful sweet sound as he pushed his hips up into her.

His hand in a fist, holding her ponytail, one arm gripping around her, he thrust up into her. He pushed his hand down her belly and palmed her mound, cupping her, squeezing and holding her as he thrust up harder into her. It was too sweet to resist, too much pleasure to contain or hinder his desire to drive up hard into her, to hurt her a little. She fought at first, gripping his wrist and struggling as he used her, "Easy," he whispered, "Give to me." She made a desperate sound, hips twisting with his next thrust, and then she yielded, giving over into what he wanted. She went limp in his arms and he fucked her harder. She shook violently in the circle of his arms, even wetter and hotter around his aching cock.

The waiter had unfastened his pants and drawn out his cock. Stroking the length his eyes bored into pretty Jenny as he stepped forward.

Tim growled, "Don't touch her," he panted against her neck, "She's mine." Tim felt his words make her come again, her body jerking hard in his grip, sweet waves around his cock, tightening to almost the point of pain. The sweetness was intense, her tight rhythmic gripping unhinged his own control and his orgasm moved up through him from the balls of his feet. He pushed into her as if he wanted to crack her pelvis, to split her in half, to claim her completely. She made harsh raw sounds each thrust upward, pitiful and pleading a he poured into her.

She groaned in Tim's lap, spent, raw, exposed. The waiter grunted, standing before them, pulling his reddened cock. The waiter's orgasm splattered across Jenny's cheek and chin. The sensation making her head snap up and jerk to the side. She cried out as another splatter hit her cheek, and the strangers taste filled her mouth, drops striking her tongue. The humiliation of it made her bow over. The stranger scent clung in her hair, across her face. Her shoulders shook and she scrubbed at her cheek with her hand.

Tim slowly, gently, drew her back up. "Look at him." Tim had to grip her hair to make her look, bring her gaze up to the man.

"Thank him."

She shuddered and he gave her head a very gentle shake. He repeated, "Thank him."

Jenny gave a low miserable sob, "Thank you Sir."

The waiter laughed and licked his own hand. Looking down at her condescendingly he squeezed down to the tip of his cock sending the last few drops to the floor, and then he tucked his spent cock back into his pants.

Tim drew her back against his chest, his breathing still raw, "Good girl."

The suit was looking at Tim now, "If you want to sell her, you can name your price."

Jenny shrank in his lap and Tim cradled his arms around her. He nuzzled the back of her neck, holding her tenderly, "She's not for sale."

The man shifted on his desk, standing and looking with a bit of contempt toward the waiter. His suit could not hide his arousal completely, the front of his trousers distorted, "You may name your price."

Tim tightened his arms around Jen, "Nothing could make me sell her."

The man drew out a business card and tossed to the floor by Tim's feet, "You may tire of her in time." He stood and beckoned the waiter, "She earned their dinner."

The room felt empty and strange after the others were gone. The scent of sex, and dust, surrounded Tim and Jenny. He was loath to let her go. Things had changed tonight, they had moved into new spaces. His girl. His whore. He tightened his arms around her. He pulled her around on his lap and cradled her in his arms. He wiped her face with his hand, removing a bit of the other man's spend. Her big blue eyes turned up to him.

"I love you." His hand cradled her cheek and she curled into his chest, wordless, chocked with emotion and feelings, completely vulnerable to him. He held her for a long time, in the dim dusty room.