Julie

Pure fiction. My thanks to my editor Wicked Inside.

*****

As the bus jerked to a start, Julie swung into an empty seat and dropped her full daypack beside her. The ride would not be long, and it had been a hectic morning making sure she had done enough to take an extended lunch. She mentally ran through each task still not finished, noting what remained, then letting go of it as she breathed out a deep breath through pursed lips. This little ceremony allowed her to recall things later, but forget them for now. Soon, only the anticipation of Gerry was left to fill her mind, and tickle her bottom.

Gerry was her present lover, only the fourth lover she had had in her 25 years. (OK, fifth, but that one shouldn't count!) He was ten years her senior, a second line manager at a, to hear him tell it, chronically under-staffed and under-funded high-tech firm. From what she could tell, that was normal for that industry.

Julie had ceased believing that each new relationship would be "it" after being unceremoniously dumped by her first lover, and then having to get rid of her second when he turned abusive. She had also realized how different a person she was in each relationship. By now she was consciously choosing her relationship persona, trying out different styles, finding what worked for her and what didn't. She had tried several with her last lover, keeping him bemused and interested longer than might otherwise have been the case.

From the beginning of this relationship, it had had all the earmarks of a do-it-yourself project, as in "if you want it done right, do it yourself." When she wanted a weekend in a cabin in the spring woods, with long quiet walks during the day and long evenings of making love in front of a blazing fireplace, she made the arrangements, right down to the firewood. The results delighted him (and he happily paid all the bills), but he was too focused on work to conceive and arrange such a weekend. So Julie had adopted a very assertive persona. She had already concluded she didn't want to live the rest of her life this way, but was enjoying it for the moment. On the sexual side, she also chose to be quite aggressive, demonstrative, and exhibitionistic, at least when she was with him.

One side effect was an increased sexual appetite. When the weekends were no longer enough, and he worked late every evening during the week, she had insisted on this midweek extended lunch. Initially reluctant, he soon figured out how to work it into his schedule and was really enjoying it now. For one of the few times, he had even suggested today's location, promising her a tropical paradise. Her curiosity and anticipation were building apace as the bus lumbered down the street.

Her stop was coming up, and she yanked on the cord hard. As the bus slowed to a stop, she used the last of the momentum to swing out of the seat, into the rear stairwell, and out the door. She shouldered the daypack and continued on down the sidewalk, along the tall granite block wall of an old estate, looking for the small metal gate he would leave open for her. She found it and slipped through, a tingle of excitement at apparently trespassing causing her to pause for a moment before locking it behind her. She headed up the rise inside the wall through an area of trees. The trees were only four or five deep and she quickly spotted Gerry leaning against a tree on the other side. She waved; he spotted her and waved back, then tried to be inconspicuous as he put away his cellphone. Not a good sign.

She reached him and slid into his arms. Their lips met, and three days of anticipation surged up within her. She could feel the wetness starting. Her lips softened, melted against his, slowly moving, flowing over him. Their tongues touched, reintroducing themselves and then exploring deeper and more imploringly. This initial kiss was very important to her, and she had made sure he knew it, but something was missing today.

When the kiss broke, he turned and slipped his arm around her waist. They started walking across a lawn the size of a small meadow. He was asking about her morning and the last couple of days, asking all the right questions, but part of him wasn't there. He definitely was distracted, which annoyed her, and she definitely was going have to do something about it.

They reached a greenhouse on the other side of the lawn. He fumbled briefly with the padlock, and then swept the door open. As she stepped in, the rich fragrances and the humidity swept over her. Large-leaved tropical plants, some with blossoms, lined both sides of the greenhouse, and orchids of every description covered two long parallel tables down the center. He'd kept his promise, to her great delight! While he worked on a reluctant dead-bolt, she literally danced down the aisle between the two tables, stopping to smell and admire each new variety. He strode by, grinning at her delight. "There's a big open area here in the middle that should work," he called to her and continued on to the other end. Reluctantly tearing herself away from the blossoms, she found the open area he'd indicated, shrugged her day-pack off her shoulders, and pulled out the old blanket that she carried for these occasions. He was fussing over something at the far end. She started spreading the blanket, noting that the ground here was very soft and resilient, probably from having potting mix spilled on it repeatedly over the years. It definitely would work. She felt a light breeze start up, and glanced up to see the large fans at the end of the greenhouse rotating lazily.

By the time she had finished with the blanket, he was back and getting undressed. He was turned sideways to her. His jacket was already crisply folded and laid over a rail. His shoes were neatly arranged, socks in them. He was just folding his pants. He was ... efficient. It was direct, with minimum effort, but he was not completely there and not looking at her. As he finished efficiently stripping and turned toward her, she could see that he indeed needed more focus.

Julie had read once that the secret to stripping for a partner was to make and maintain eye contact. She waited, still clothed in the conservative button-front blouse, straight skirt and pumps she wore at the office, until he turned to look at her. He paused. She slowly brought one hand up to the top button on her blouse, unbuttoned it, then the next, and the next. After she undid the last exposed button, she slipped her hand inside and started to massage one breast. She pulled her shoulders back just a bit to stretch the fabric across her hand. She did all the things he loved to do to her breasts and nipples. She could tell he knew exactly what she was doing, and she was now getting his undivided attention.

Julie's other hand rose to her waist and undid the buttons on her skirt, which immediately and unceremoniously dropped straight to the ground. She then slid this hand inside the waistband of her lace panties, down her belly into her tangle of hair, over mons Venus, and started slowly masturbating. A warm glow spread through her. Her eyes partially closed. The only sounds were their breathing, and the big fan at the end of the greenhouse. She continued until a mini-orgasm sent a small but visible spasm rippling through her. He stood there with his eyes wide, his breathing shallow, and his growing member in hand.

She pointed to a spot on the blanket, against a post, and gave the single command "Sit!" He shuffled sideways, trancelike, unwilling to take his eyes off her, while she undid the last blouse buttons, the front clasp on her bra, and shrugged them both down her arms. She picked up her skirt with one foot and tossed her clothes between two orchids, all without breaking eye contact.

He dropped into a cross-legged sit, leaning on the post, as she approached him. She was still in her pumps, mid-calf nylons, and his favorite lacy, red, panties. She gently tilted his head back with one hand on his forehead, while reaching high on the pole immediately behind him with the other. She stepped over his legs, rose up on tiptoes and slid her pussy over his face. His eyes and hers were still locked. She waggled her eyebrows at him and saw the joy in his eyes. He started nibbling with his lips at either side of the panty crotch. She lowered herself a fraction of an inch and he was nibbling and licking her pussy, or at least trying to through the material.

She had expected him to immediately pull down, or even rip away her panties, but instead he had started firmly massaging her ass. While his tongue and lips made frustrated attempts to move the stretched nylon aside, he stretched it further by reaching both hands inside her panties from below. He kneaded and worked her ass intently. This was new, and she mused about how she might explore it. Finally, fully frustrated, he pulled her panties down enough to relieve the tension and swept the thin crotch aside with one finger. He buried his face in her pussy. Spreading the labia and holding them with his lips, his tongue dipped into the sweet nectar of her vagina, as his hands greedily returned to her ass. She momentarily stopped musing about anything. His tongue made circles around the opening, pressing firmly into the tender flesh. It darted in and out. Then he started wagging his tongue back and forth, barely touching the hood stretched tautly over her clitoris. About twenty seconds of that and she cried out in her first full orgasm. She knew he enjoyed her orgasms, and each one just led to a better one, so she never bother to wait for him.

As she regained her senses, she looked down at him. With his eyes closed and his face blissfully relaxed, his tongue continued to explore all the smooth skin inside her labia. She just watched him enjoy her pussy, until it occurred to her that she might test her new observation. Lifting up on tiptoes she broke contact with him, much to his surprise. Indicating for him to wait, in one smooth move she stepped back, turned, and pulled her panties off, bending double in the process. Dancing for exercise several nights a week had its advantages at times like this. She spread her legs and grabbed her ankles, presenting ass and pussy to him from a new angle. He lunged forward, but was just a fraction short of reaching this prize. He straightened his legs out between hers, shifted forward, grabbed her hips and buried his face in her. He started a long lick at her clit, up across her wet opening, and on up to her tightly puckered asshole. He started moaning, and the vibrations gave her a thrill. He became almost frantic as he repeatedly pressed and licked and sucked and nipped, and seemed almost to be trying to climb into her head first. His moans became muffled roars. His need was driving her passion.

"Well," she thought, "our boy is definitely an ass-man!"

Looking down, she saw his cock fully erect, bobbing back and forth in echo of his other movements. She couldn't reach it with her mouth, in this position, but her dangling hair could. She started dragging her hair back and forth across the head, not knowing if he'd even notice. His voice immediately rose in pitch by about an octave. He'd noticed. Suddenly, another orgasm broke over her, driven by the relentless attack from behind. Only his grip on her hips kept her from falling.

When she recovered, she glanced around quickly. A wide table on one side of the blanket was lower than the others, holding a few plants in very large pots. Perfect. She grabbed both his hands and stepped forward, again breaking contact. She pulled him to his feet behind her and led him to the low table. She bent over, bracing her hands on the table below her. He needed no suggestions, and ran the tip of his swollen cock slowly up her slit. Slowly up and down, teasing both of them. She started protesting, at a rather high pitch. He stopped at her vaginal opening, and leaned into her. She adjusted the angle of her hips, and he slid all the way in. She let out a gasp. He held for a moment. She gasped out "Deep ... and slow!" He pulled back, and she felt the entire length of his shaft as it withdrew until just the tip pressed against her opening.

He paused. She prayed or swore, she wasn't sure which, and pushed back toward him. He leaned into her again and she concentrated on each bit of skin as it slid from cool air into hot, wet, flesh. She felt him fill her; stretch her. He'd kidded about tickling her belly button from the inside, and that was exactly what she wanted now. As deep as he could get, he leaned into her buttocks and rocked from side to side while she pushed back, then started pulling out again. Deep and slow. Just the way she liked it. So sensual. So focused. So intense. So totally frustrating right now, she realized with a start!

"No!" The word tore itself from her throat with greater force than she hand intended. She reached back with one hand to try to show him what she needed. Confused, he stopped moving. "Harder!" she shouted. He gave a quick, hard thrust into her and started to withdraw slowly. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs of passion long enough to say "Deep! ... hard! ... fast! ... forget before!" He grinned, thrust hard and deep, bounced off her buttocks and thrust again. Within a few strokes he had his rhythm and just surrendered to his own need for penetration. Deeper. Harder. Faster and faster. She pushed back as hard as she could, trying to open herself to him more and more, fascinated again at how his need completely consumed her and drove her. It was never this intense when she took care of herself.

"Yes-s-s-s-s-s", she hissed out between her clenched teeth. She tried rotating her hips up and down to see how the sensations changed. His movements started to become jerky. He was getting ready to cum and she realized that she had not kept up with him. She reached down between her legs with one hand and scratched his balls after each thrust and rubbed her clitoris after each withdrawal. However, he didn't seem to notice and she needed the help, so soon her fingers were doing a frantic dance on and around her trigger.

Suddenly he gave her a hard, stinging slap on one buttock, sending a shock through her nervous system. Before she could focus her mind on what had happened, he slapped the other cheek even harder, and she heard a deep, animal growl from her own throat in response. Then his fingers closed tight around her hips as he slammed into her hard and held himself deep within her. In the sudden stillness, she felt the spasm of his cock and the sudden warmth of his cum. He jerked back, slammed into her and held again. Again she felt him ejaculate as she tried to grip and hold him with her vagina. Again he slammed into her, held and ejaculated. And again. Her orgasm finally caught up with her. Between his grip pulling her back onto him, and her arching back, she lifted completely into the air. He caught her, and they collapsed back onto the blanket.

He was spent, but held her tightly to him as they lay on their sides. When his flagging penis slipped from her, she twisted in his arms till she was facing him, her head on his shoulder, her leg across his thighs. Lazily, she ran her hand up and down his glistening chest and belly. The humidity of the orchid-house had left both of them soaked with sweat, and she wondered idly how she would ever make herself presentable for work this afternoon. She felt a line of his cum slowly drip down her leg. She gently squeezed his cock, collecting the last drops of his cum with her finger and then licking it off. He just lay back with his eyes closed, smiling.

She had pushed her last orgasm, so it had left a lot of tension behind. She would need more loving, but he needed some time to recover.

As she lay against him, enjoying the hot, sticky afterglow, she wondered about the almost violent abandon of today's lovemaking. In this case, maybe fucking was the better word? Was it just an unrecognized mutual mood, or the position she had chosen, or a new direction in their relationship that she wasn't yet sure she wanted to explore? She could still feel the sting of those slaps. On the other hand, they were powerfully stimulating at the time and running her hand over her ass had not revealed any welts. She noted wryly that this line of thought was increasing her desire and arousal.

Julie started running her hand very lightly over his front. She'd had enough rest. His small nipples got hard as soon as she touched them, and while she knew it was an automatic reflex, it still excited her. She scooted up a little onto one elbow so she could lean over his chest and started licking and gently sucking his nipple. He laughed a little; he was always teasing her about being so voracious. He kissed her gently on the top of the head and whispered a barely audible "Thank you!" His fingers started lazily dragging up and down her spine, tailbone to skull and back again, leaving a wake of warmth that spread through her insides. Beneath her thigh, his cock was starting to respond.

She looked at him, and with a supplicant's demeanor asked "Favor?"

"Anything," he replied, smiling.

She cupped her breast and offered it to him. "They didn't get much attention earlier, and they're a bit jealous."

He scooted down enough to place his lips an inch from her offering. He blew a thin stream of air on, over and around her nipple. The entire areola wrinkled. He barely caressed the tip of her nipple with the tip of his tongue, and then blew again. Little sparks of energy shot back through her breast. He ran his tongue around the nipple several times, until she wanted to cry out. He then spiraled out, wetting the entire front of her breast. He opened his mouth wide, gently pressed into her yielding flesh and started gently sucking while his tongue continued to caress her.

She had more pent-up sexual energy than she had realized. She felt the surge start at her nipple, plunge through her body, engulf her entire pussy, and rebound back up to her breast. She had lost conscious control. Her pussy, pressed against his side just above the hipbone, started moving on its own. She firmly clutched a handful of blanket. Her shoulders rocked and she pressed herself against his mouth. After a few moments of this exquisite torture, he broke from that breast and started turning toward the other. She rose up higher on her elbow to meet him and he started the process all over. The electric surge from this breast collided with another rising from her clitoris and the two exploded in her gut. Her hand let go the blanket, reached behind his head and pulled him to her with all the strength she could muster. Her last conscious thought was "What the ...!?!?!"

She pulled his head to her so hard that his teeth were exposed and pressed painfully into her softness. Her nipple was forced into his mouth; the skin around it stretched painfully tight. He responded by sucking hard, like an infant, nipple pressed against the roof of his mouth by his moving tongue. Her pelvic thrusts synchronized with his sucking and little, strained, guttural cries forced themselves from between her lips. It hurt, and she couldn't get enough.

When he finally needed to breathe, he pushed away from her. She relented long enough for a couple gulps of air, then pulled his head back against the first breast, just as hard as before. He started suckling it in time with her thrusts. Then he slowly closed his mouth, stopping only when he could feel firm resistance from her flesh. He pulled back a bit, slowly, feeling the inner flesh of her breast escaping under the skin held fast by his teeth. She gasped loudly. He opened his mouth and plunged back into her breast, sucking it in. He dragged his teeth from the base of her breast up to just short of the nipple. He then plunged back again, twisting his head so his teeth would trace a different line in her skin. And a third time. For Julie, pain mixed with pleasure mixed with passion mixed with need.