Jessie Ch. 09

Beth inhaled sharply with aroused surprise, kept rolling her hips, jamming my prick deep up inside her every time she sank down, sliding forward until just the tip remained, then arching back down. With such fantastic tits presented so nicely in my face, I did the polite thing and leaned forward to take one in my mouth. That earned me a pleasured sigh, so I kept sucking at it, rolling the hard nipple with my tongue, occasionally nipping it slightly between my teeth, then transferring my attention to its sister.

The rolling off the hips stopped, and Beth sat heavily on my lap, almost squirming to take more of me inside her. When she started moving again it was a bank and forth grind, small movements to keep me inside her and her breasts still for my mouth. Looking form at me, she ran her hands softly over my short hair, stroked my face. "Slap my tits," she breathed.

I let one go and looked up. "What was that?"

"Slap them."

"Say please."

"Please slap my fucking tits!" It was almost a howl, loud and needy.

I tangled my fingers in her hair, close to her scalp, and pulled her head back, arching her body on my lap. She was practically trembling, so close to cumming now. With my other hand, I pushed her leather jacket off her right shoulder and gave that large, firm mammary a hard slap.

"UHHHHH!" Beth groaned loudly, put her hands on my knees so she could arch herself even farther. "Again, please..."

I spanked the other one, enjoying the sight of it wobbling, and my partner grunted loudly, hips jerking on my lap as she stirred her pussy with small, frantic motions. Letting go of her hair, I ran my hands up Beth's taut torso, cupping her breasts, squeezing them roughly, pinching and stretching the nipples until she whined. "You like having your tits played with?" I growled at her.

She nodded, a pitiful look on her face like I was depriving her of that needed stimulation just by talking.

I pushed her back with a hand loosely choking her, and she arched, hands finding my knees so she could bend her body backward and bare her chest for me. I delivered a handful of hard strikes to those magnificent, full breasts, and then my surging testosterone demanded more. I pulled Beth to me with a hand on her hip, pulled her face to mine with a hand on the back of her neck, held her tightly still and in place, our lips mashed together and our tongues along against each other, all while my pelvis hammered up against her, fucking her faster and faster.

Beth whined into my mouth, fought my strength only enough to pull away a scant few centimeters. Her eyes were wild, breathing heavy and coming in a chant of "Huhhuhuh" over and over. I grinned at her and she quirked her eyebrows together like she was concentrating, probably on cumming. "You like having your ass played with?" I whispered.

She bit her lip, shook her head, "Not really my thing."

I gave one round glute a hard slap, enjoyed her yelp for a moment, then pulled her even closer, held her in place tighter. "You should try it, it's fun. Jessie cums like crazy with a finger in there when she's riding me."

"UHHHHH..." I held kept thrusting, jackrabbitting my hips upward against Beth, sliding quickly in and out of her wet tunnel. With her head against mine, her hair curtained us off from the world, nothing else existing but her face and the exertion and the lewd wet rhythmic slapping of body against body.

"I'm gonna cum," she breathed. "I'm gonna cum, oh fuck, you're gonna make me cum..."

She was twisting in my grip like she wanted to move, but I frustrated that need by holding her firmly in place. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock, Beth."

It didn't take much longer, and she screeched, fighting my superior strength and losing, writhing on me, grinding her wet pussy on my lap and trying to force me even deeper up inside her squeezing twat. "Ahha ahha ahha ahha" she breathed, over and over, whining and sucking in air as her torso flexed and twitched through her climax.

" Are you close?" she asked quietly in my ear.

"Getting there." I held her hips and flexed up inside her, and she giggled.

Beth rode me for another few minutes before lifting herself off and kissing her way down my chest and abs before kneeling between my legs once again. She blew cool air across the sensitive, wet crown of my cock, laughing as it jumped involuntarily at the change in temperature after being buried so long in her boiling hot pussy. Slowly, she licked around the head, cleaning it of her fluids, swallowing, smiling up at me with a sweetness that belied the overt sexuality of the act.

And then she went down on me. A long, deep slide down the shaft, burying me in the back of her throat and lifting her eyes to mine. I stroked her hair. "So beautiful."

Even with her lips stretched wide by my rod, she smiled.

Then she started coughing around me, and it took her a second to get that under control. The moment passed, and she pushed fractionally deeper, then popped off with a gasp, and then began blowing me. Up and down, mouth open, wet slurping sounds coming from our joining that I figured had to be deliberate from the looks of mischief she kept flicking my way. She'd pull off and pump my slimy shaft roughly with her hands while tonguing my ballsack, suck in some air and give me a sexy smile, then slide me between her lips once.

When I finally came, it was after so much stimulation that the involuntary twitches had my whole body shaking, my hips jerking reflexively on the couch even as my prick throbbed with each hard, muscular pulse. Beth had pulled the tip away from her lips by just an inch or so, bending me forward, and the angle was such that it slowed the speed of my ejaculation. My jizz didn't ooze out, but it wasn't the fast-flying liquid ribbons I was used to. The pulses of cum arced onto her lips and chin, into her open mouth, and by the time my body stopped shaking, the lower half of her face was glazed with white and she was gently licking and nibbling the now ultra-sensitive tip.

Slowly she extended her tongue and ran it sensually around her lips, gathering up what semen she could, sucking it in, rolling it around her mouth before swallowing. "Thank you," Beth said. The tone of submission in her voice set my blood on fire again.

I stood and pulled her up, and she pulled away slightly when I moved to kiss her. "What?"

"I just blew you, I've still got your spunk on my face."

"And you blew me after I was inside you. Big deal." I pulled her into a kiss, and it was rough, our lips pressed hard together, my tongue forcing itself against hers. She sighed at the sensual invasion, and I held her against me with a possessive hand around her back. "My turn," I whispered when I pulled away.

"Again?" Beth sounded worried.

"Oh yeah. I told you you might have trouble keeping up with me."

A fierce look flashed across her face. "Just watch me." That look turned to a laugh when I hefted her up, hands cupping her bottom, and she nuzzled and kissed my neck as I carried her to the bed. The feeling of exercising my strength, of exercising it with - on - this slim, young woman was intoxicating. I tipped her back on the bed and she spread her legs, a happy smile on her face as she anticipated what would come next.

I changed it up.

Gathering her wrists above her on the bed, I leaned over her body, skid my other hand down to cup Beth's swollen-red vulva. First one finger slid into that slippery heat, then another, pumping in and out gently but firmly, pressing on her gspot until she was shifting and grinding her ass on the bed. I withdrew and held my fingers in front of her lips. "Suck. Taste your cunt, taste how turned on you are right now."

Beth moaned and her head came off the white sheets and she suckled gently on my fingers, cleaning them of her juices and my orgasm. When she released them, I trailed her saliva down between her breasts, glistening against her skin. "Good girl." I pulled her hips to the edge of the bed and entered her in three straining pushes.

And then it was MY turn to fuck HER, and our third time felt like it passed in a moment, just fleeting images of athleticism and eroticism, nude bodies pressed together and moving apart at my direction.

Legs hooked into the elbows, lifted and spread to show me her gorgeous body.

Leaning forward to roughly squeeze her breasts.

Pulling her head forward with a hand on the back of her neck, cutting off her breath and her grunts and squeals and shouts with my other hand on the front.

Looking into her eyes as she strained to breathe, as she rocketed through an oxygen-deprived climax before I let up.

We changed positions and I manhandled her into sitting on my lap turned away from me, but not before I knelt next to her tired body and gently pumped back and forth between her wide lips. With Beth riding me in reverse cowgirl, I got a great view of her butt jiggling as she bounced on my dick, and when she bent forward to grab my ankles and change the angle of my penetration of her, I enjoyed the view of her cute little asshole so much I gave one cheek a slap. She whimpered and looked back pitifully at me.

Wasn't even that hard a slap.

Beth was getting off constantly. Small climaxes that kept her shaking, loud grunts of pleasure as the wet tunnel squeezed around me. I hoped she was enjoying being manhandled as much as I was enjoying manhandling her. She seemed to be.

I pushed her forward, off my lap, and she figured out what position I wanted her in by the way I slapped her ass when she tried to turn around. With her head towards the foot of the bed, I dismounted and moved to stand before her. She gave me a knowing grin and sucked me in, head bobbing vigorously as she kept the stimulation going with a different orifice. I put my hands on her head, stilling her motion, and then began alternately thrusting into her mouth, and moving her up and down my length. Beth tried a little twist to get free, found my strength superior, and I think she came again from the knowledge that I was going to use her as I wanted.

Once more on the bed, I knelt behind the rockstar, admired the way she was presenting her pussy and ass to my view, and slotted into position. Taking her doggystyle was our roughest sex yet. I grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so I could make out with her. I held her upright with my hand on her hip and my elbow around her neck, hammering against her firm backside, driving her through another small choked climax.

And when it was time for me to finish, I pushed her shoulders roughly against the sheets with a growled "Get your head down!" and held her wrists tightly at the small of her back, occasionally delivering a stinging spank to her rump as she grunted and whimpered and shrieked at my continual and differing stimulation of her body.

I felt the tightening, the boiling need of release growing in my loins and released Beth's wrists, leaning over her back and forcefully turning her head so our lips could meet. My tongue probed hers and she gasped as I ground against her ass, my cock throbbing so hard the contractions wracked my entire body. Pump pump pump I could see the pulsing in my vision as my semen splashed her vaginal walls with diminishing force.

I collapsed to the side, slipping from Beth and lying panting on the sheets staring up at the ceiling. Still ass-up, face-down, the rockstar laughed, then groaned, and slowly unfolded herself to settle down next to me, head on my arm. "Wow..."

"Wow," I confirmed.

"That was...umm... Thank you."

"Thank you." I turned and pulled Beth close, kissed her cheek. She gave me a big, satisfied smile, and wrapped her arms around my neck.

After a few minutes of listening to the stillness and our heartbeats, I pulled away slightly. "Do you...want me to go in a little bit? It sounded before like you've got an early day ahead of you."

She gave me a wounded look. "I was hoping you'd stay...I... I'd just like to be held tonight, if that's ok?"

"Sounds nice. I'm not really a fan of running out after...after. Even if it is a one-nighter."

I liked seeing Beth smile. My initial impression was that her face looked a lot more suited for a scowl, but her smile was brilliant. "Awesome."

We fell asleep with the lights on, arms wrapped around each other.

###

I looked over at my right arm, smooth and uninterrupted by scar tissue, beyond to my father cooking burgers at the grill on the deck of their vacation home. I sighed and sipped my Sprite, returned my attention to the woods beyond the small mowed back lawn. Dad and I had dug up a clearing a few dozen yards beyond the treeline, and tomorrow we'd be planting my mother's orchard. The trees sat by the garage, rootballs wrapped in burlap.

Dad brought a burger over on a plate, sat down next to me with his own meal. "Good day's work," he said.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for your help, taking the time off."

The silence was long after that, the two of us chewing our burgers, the wind gently rustling the leaves of the woods around us as the sun descended and lit the green canopy gold.

"Your mother is worried about you," dad said eventually.

"Yeah?"

"She said she sees a change in you. I can see it too. You're... Different. Not quite so...happy. She wanted me to talk with you while we were up here. Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Tech school is ok? Getting some closure after it ended with Cady?"

I remembered this conversation.

I felt like I was underwater, watching a movie of my life. I was slightly offset from where I'd been, I was seeing out of my old eyes, speaking the words I'd spoken, I could feel the wind on my skin, but my control of the dream was sluggish, unresponsive. "I'm fine."

"That's bullshit, kiddo, and we both know it. What's going on?"

I could feel my old desire to open up, to be vulnerable, to unburden myself, to be seen for who I really was, what I'd become. I could feel the conflict, the anger, the helplessness, and the...pride. Fuck me, I was filled with fierce, ugly pride that I shouldn't fucking feel.

I was still for a long time as I fought the dream to open my mouth, to speak, to say something other than what I knew was coming. I didn't want to waste this time I had with my father, spend it repeating a conversation I wished I'd never had.

Eventually, I said, "I did something."

My father sat forward, setting his paper plate to the side. "What?"

"I'm not going to tell you. I just... It's... Something."

"Bad."

I turned sharply on the bench. "Not to me. Not by a long shot."

"You trying drugs, son?"

I laughed. "Not even close."

"Ok good, I can't stand hippies." We both laughed at my father's words, and it was just cover for what we were struggling with. Him to understand what was hurting his only son. Me to explain what I had done in a way that wouldn't make him hate me. A way that wouldn't get me sent to prison.

"I..." I forced my words out. It felt like every muscle in my body was fighting me, rejecting my decision to speak, even as I fought to free myself from this memory. "I hurt someone."

My father looked up. "Who? Cady? Your sister? Mike? Colette? Someone from college?"

I shook my head. "It's not important. It's no one I cared about."

His eyes narrowed as he processed this. "Are you in trouble? Hit someone with your car? What happened?"

I laughed. "Definitely not gonna tell you that. It...I...I hurt someone to stop them from hurting someone else. Probably lots of other people down the road."

"Ok. And..."

"And I'm scared I'm gonna go to prison. I don't think I will, but I'm scared. And I'm... I'm all fucked up because I shouldn't be so...happy...about what I did. I shouldn't be, but, I...I am. Sorry." I looked over at him, sheepish for the profanity, but he didn't seem bothered.

My father looked at me for a long time, held my eyes until I had to look away. He looked like he was containing tears, and that terrified me. How could someone who'd seen war, and been ok ever since, cry?

"Do you need anything?" he asked, finally mastering his emotions.

I was silent for a long time. "Time. Distance. For you and mom to be there for me, to not ask questions, to not judge me if I need to talk about it or pry if I don't tell you much. I think I just need to figure it out for myself. I need to become ok with it. I mean, I am ok with it, I need to become ok with the fact that I AM ok with it...I don't know."

My old man rose and put his hand on my shoulder. "You know I was in Desert Storm, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I don't talk about it much."

"I've never heard you say anything about it other than to confirm you were there."

"I hurt people too. Bad people. Because I had to. Because that was my job. Because they hurt people. I'm ok with it now, but it's not something I like thinking about. I'll trust you that if you did... Something... It was because you needed to. You're a good person son, I know that. You can always talk to me if you need to. I've been there."

Another pregnant pause where I could remember my eyes filling with tears, and I looked up at him. "How... How do I do this? How do I deal with this?"

"Be with the people you love, son. The people who love you. Good people. Talk if you need to, if that helps. But it just takes time to come to grips with it. If you really had no choice, you need to find a way to rationalize that." He crouched down in front of my chair, and through the blur in my eyes, I could tell his were wet too. "You said you did this thing to help someone else, right? To protect them, save their life?"

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "Yeah. Oh yeah. FUCK YEAH."

My father smirked. "That's what we do. That's the burden good men carry. Sometimes we have to do bad things so that worse things don't happen. So that good people or even just average people aren't hurt. You are a good man, son. So am I. Men like us, sometimes we sacrifice ourselves, our lives, our futures, our happiness, our physical or mental health, what we want in life to stop evil. That sacrifice, that's not a BAD thing. Its..." he gestured, trying to put combat experience and intervening years of dealing with it into words. "It's a good TRADE. If you survive it, if you LIVE with it, that's something to take pride in."

Years removed from this conversation, I felt a twinge of... Something... Hearing his words. Humor? Sadness? Irony? Anger? Tori had wanted to trade our lives to finish this fight. I'd wanted to trade my life for hers. I'd been ready to trade my life for Jessie, Sienna, Jane, and my coworkers when Morgan Skolnich had pointed that Beretta at me.

I just didn't want to. I was tired of fighting, of violence and its threat, of guns being pointed at me and staring down sights at people.

I was tired of my arm hurting.

I was so fucking tired of it all, of carrying the weight of violence and tension and anticipation and sorrow and grief and longing and I wanted it to be done. I wanted it to be over.

I put every ounce of mental energy into forward movement. Inside the dream, the memory, I could hear myself screaming inside my head, and the dream broke and I wrapped my arms around my father and buried my face in his shoulder. He smelled like grill smoke and sweat and the dirt of the orchard we'd dug, and I wanted to stay right here forever. "I miss you, Dad," I whispered. "I miss you and mom so much."

He pushed me back and the look in his eyes was stern but affectionate. "I love you, son."

###

Beth woke me up at four in the morning by disentangling herself from my arms and sliding off the bed to go pad into the other room. I could hear her gather clothing from bags and then the quiet slap of her bare feet on the hardwood floor. The bathroom door shut and water ran. The toilet flushed. More water ran. I stared at the ceiling. I felt like I'd run a marathon, like I hadn't slept in a week.