Merrill and Jacob Ch. 01

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Jake handed her bra and panties to her, and laid her blouse and skirt on the edge of the bed for her. She seemed very testy and displeased. He scrambled to put on his robe. He tried to be comforting, "Carol, it'll be all right. I know it's hard, the first time...."

She was not interested in talking, "I should never have come here. This was a mistake." She stumbled down the stairs. Jake quickly put his clothes on, and followed her. He found Carol standing over the inert form of Natalie, attempting to revive her.

Jake was desperate to save the situation. He wanted to ensure himself sexual access to the beautiful Carol in the future. He said, gently, "We should let her sleep. Please sit down, Carol, and let me get you something to drink. Anything you want."

"I just want to go home."

Jake reluctantly gathered his phone, wallet and keys, and carried Natalie out to his car. Carol opened the door. Jake put Natalie in the passenger seat, and buckled her up, while Carol got into the back seat. Jake drove the short distance to the girls' apartment in tense silence. When they arrived, Jake carried Natalie upstairs, and laid her on her bed. Carol said, "Okay. Now, please leave."

Jake pondered the prospects. It seemed likely that both women would be furious with him, and he might never touch either of them ever again. His dream of a three-way crumbled. He momentarily considered humping the unconscious Natalie one last time before he left. Carol would certainly object to that.

He consoled himself that he had enjoyed a very pretty virgin, after porking her pretty roommate for three weeks. Not too bad. He did feel guilty about having sex with Natalie's friend, and about the fact that his taking of Carol's virginity was only marginally consensual. In the heat of his lust, Carol had seemed an honorable conquest. Now, it felt like he had callously abused of innocent girl.

The next morning, Jake awoke to find a tiny envelope that had been slid under his front door. It was an emotional letter from Carol, stained with tears. It explained that she forgave him for what he had done, that it had been a mistake, and that they must never see each other again. Apparently, she blamed the whole thing on the fact that they had both been blind drunk. Jake sighed, knowing that he would never bury his dick in the lovely Carol again. He would never teach her how to give him head, just the way he liked it.

Later that morning, Natalie called, and said, "Oh, hey, Jake. I totally blacked out last night. I am so hung over! I don't even remember coming home."

Jake said, "We were all pretty drunk. I drove you home, but I probably shouldn't have. At least, I got there and back safely. How is Carol?"

Natalie said, "She left a note that she is at church. I need to get some food in me, and take some aspirin. We'll talk later."

Apparently, Carol never told Natalie that Jake had deflowered her. That evening, Natalie came to Jake's house, and they had sex. He titfucked her, coming in her mouth, and let her ride him to an orgasm. He finished by fucking her. Jake would never be with Natalie again.

*********************************

On the following day, Jake had a date to look at Merrill's plumbing, literally. Jake was a nice guy, and he wanted to be friends with his new neighbors. He was also very handy. He had helped Merrill with a variety of repairs around the house over the course of his first month in the neighborhood. The Ice Queen began to thaw. It developed organically.

Merrill's growing attraction to Jake had sent her mind into a spiral. She wanted a man in her life again. She wanted intimacy again. She wanted him. She was ready. Merrill was twenty-seven years old, and a mother, and previously married, but she felt as if she were making the decision to lose her virginity, again. The success of her marriage to Sam legitimized the choice she had made in high school to have sex with him. It had worked to perfection.

Her woman friends sometimes compared their "lists." She knew that men sometimes did the same. Most women had names on their list that they were not proud of, relationships that had not worked, or lasted. Most women had to admit to mistakes, youthful indiscretions, succumbing to pressure, or succumbing to alcohol. When Merrill read off her list, there was one name on it, and that name was Sam. Her peers envied her. The love of her life. The father of her child. Her first, and only.

Merrill's next lover, her second, would be an enormous risk. She might not—no, likely would not—get fantastically lucky again. She would more likely become like her friends, with a growing list that included failures, mistakes, and humiliations. Compounding the risk, raising the stakes beyond measure, was her need to protect Ashley.

One of Merrill's finest qualities was her willingness to take advice, to listen to others, and to consult experts. Merrill's had had grief counseling after Sam's death. She had done endless reading and research since then. She had learned some valuable things. First and foremost was that she must not search for, or hold out for, another Sam. There was no more Sam. She could never have that relationship again.

Not only was there no more Sam, but the girl she had been was gone forever. She was a grown woman, a mother, and a widow. No more high school cheerleader. No more blushing girl. She knew she had much to offer. She arguably had more to offer than ever before, but it was not the same as when she had met Sam.

One of the difficulties Merrill had faced as an adult on the singles market was the standard for sex. The bar was set shockingly low for people in their late twenties, with histories. No attractive man her age would be willing to wait for months or years. They were not virgins, and neither was she. She could not rationalize, to a man, or to herself, being in a serious relationship that was sexless.

Television and movies told her that the modern standard for adults was three dates. On the third date, sex was a given. Three dates!? Three? Really? Merrill didn't give complete credence to that. She sensed that that was a "New York thing," for Manhattan yuppies. She also noticed that those cultural references were mostly written by men, who could be presumed to be biased toward a lower standard.

About Jake. What a great guy! So attractive, so nice, so neat and tidy. A great little homemaker. He was not on her level, intellectually. He was not a big talker. He would never be the sounding board that Sam had been. On the other hand, he was a good listener, and patient. Besides, she had lots of friends and family to talk to. Jake was a man to be with, to share life with. Merrill shuddered, realizing that she had just talked herself into sleeping with Jake. She had decided. He would be number two.

About Ashley. Jake and Merrill had not openly professed or displayed any romantic interest in one another, much less in front of Ashley. So far, so good. Nevertheless, the chemistry was undeniably there. Merrill was sure of it, whenever Jake was near. Friends first. She was doing this the right way.

There were massive logistical concerns. In the month since they had first met, her time with Jake had been nothing but fun. He was on leave, having returned from his long overseas deployment. Eventually, he would have to show up at the base, like a regular job. He would have occasional absences for training or other things, as much as two or three weeks. Not bad. No problem, there. He was assured, to the extent that anything in military life was assured, of remaining in Camp Lejeune for the next three years. More than long enough to determine how far the relationship could go. Merrill laughed at herself, absurdly calculating how old Ashley would be in three years, and what the consequence would be for her if she had to re-locate then.

Merrill had been happy as a Marine Corps wife. Now, as a Marine Corps widow, she was exalted. She was comfortable in the Corps. Yes, she would do this. She would enter into a very discrete, experimental relationship with Jake, and see where it took them.

Merrill had a quandary. For the first time in her life, she needed to find a way to lure a man into bed. She knew she was very attractive. Jake was keen on her, that was certain. She often caught him staring at her figure. She didn't shame him, or even let on that she had noticed. Jake had betrayed particular interest in Merrill's bosom. For good reason. Large and high, for a woman her age, she noticed men gazing at her boobs every time she walked down the street. Yes, it was time for her boobs to go back to work.

Before Merrill became pregnant with Ashley, she had a wardrobe that displayed her chest to best effect. She had never discarded an article of clothing in her life. None of those teenage outfits fit her, now. Bras. It all began with bras.... Charlotte! Merrill took Charlotte out to lunch, in exchange for Charlotte's consultations on lingerie. Charlotte was a sexually active woman of twenty-five. She worked on the base, and dated officers. Her friends called her "Charlotte the harlot" for her sexy outfits.

A few hours of shopping, and a few hundred dollars later, Merrill had a collection of clothes designed to drive men wild with desire. It was mostly bras. The really good ones were really expensive. You couldn't argue with the results. Merrill looked great. Most of the new bras were designed to show cleavage, which Merrill had not done in many years. Charlotte also talked Merrill into buying a couple of simple tops.

"Charlotte, I don't know. This looks like something a high school cheerleader would wear. That was me, nine years, and one child, ago!"

"Merrill, an envious woman might look sideways at you in this. A man will look directly at you in this. At least, he'll look directly at your boobs."

Merrill had a date, or, rather, an appointment, with Jake. He was coming over, while Ashley was at school, to look at a leaky drain. Not very romantic, but she didn't want to openly proposition him. She put on her new bra and top. Looking into the mirror, she said to herself, "Merrill, this is an open proposition." She wore jeans and sneakers, appropriate for hanging out with a friend. Her bosom was conspicuous. A line of cleavage showed above the low neckline.

When Merrill answered the door, Jake did a double-take on her chest. She was charmed at his futile attempts to keep his eyes off her bosom. He fixed the drip under the sink by hand-tightening a nut under the sink. She offered him wine, and they stood in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. She chatted pleasantly. He struggled to avoid leering.

"Oh, I wanted to show you something, Jacob." Only his mother called him Jacob, and only when she was displeased. She opened a magazine, stood beside him, actually leaning against him. "Someday, I would like countertops like that." He took the magazine. There were two photos of idealized kitchens. She seemed to take for granted that he would know which of the two had the countertop material that would transform Merrill's kitchen.

He pretended to inspect the photos closely. "Hmmmm. Nice." When she leaned over to look with him, her breast pressed against his bare arm. He froze. Both of them looked down to where his elbow pressed into her breast, pushing it up slightly. She very deliberately leaned a little closer. Her breast conformed to the shape of his arm. He could feel the warmth. Their eyes met, in a moment of extreme sexual tension. She smiled slightly, narrowed her eyes, and pushed her breast more firmly against his arm. He tossed the magazine aside, turned toward her, and kissed her, mouth closed.

Merrill said, "Bring your wine." She took his hand, and led him to the living room sofa. They sat, facing one another, and began kissing and touching lightly. Soon, the kisses were open-mouthed, and his hand held her breast, outside of her clothing. She purred. He moaned lustily. They made out to the point where they were kissing as deeply as they could, and his hands were kneading her breasts vigorously, still outside her blouse.

Merrill pulled her mouth away from his with a comical "smack!" She poured more wine. She laughed shyly, saying, "I feel like we're in the back seat of a car, at the drive-in." He leaned in, and pawed at her. She fended him off for a while. He succeeded in clasping a bare breast with his hand. It was great fun. He took her out to lunch. Now, he stared at her chest the entire time, shamelessly. Things could go not go further, that day. It was her day to make the carpool pickup from school.

After Jake dropped her off at her house, Merrill shuddered with excitement. How could she take the next step, without Ashley knowing anything? Ashley had a sleepover in two days. She resolved to strike then. She and Jake were both busy the next two days, but they spoke, several times, on the phone.

On Friday afternoon, Merrill stopped by an Italian restaurant to pick up takeout for two. Not having had intercourse in two years, she was worried about what it would be like. The large bulges that occasionally distorted Jake's shorts foretold rough seas ahead. She bought some sexy lubricant at the drugstore, out of a bewildering selection of such products. Merrill packed Ashley off to her sleepover late in the afternoon. Jake was at the gym. She knew when he would be home. He would call her. She showered, primped, and wore an outrageous, short negligee that she and Charlotte had selected.

When he called to say that he was almost home, she put a trench coat on over the negligee, picked up the bag with the food, wine, lubricant, and a few things, in case he wanted her to spend the night. She walked slowly toward his house, watching for him to arrive. When he arrived, and parked in the garage, she walked boldly to his door. Confident that he would be in the shower immediately, she let herself in, kicked off her shoes, ditched the bag, hung up her trench coat, and walked barefoot up the stairs to his bedroom.

Merrill peeked inside, heard the shower running, and entered. The room was, as always, perfectly in order, except for the gym bag thrown on the floor. She set down her bag, retrieved the sex oil from it, and set the oil on the nightstand. She turned down the bed, invitingly. Looking into the mirror to check that everything was in order, she listened for him to turn off the shower. She heard the shower shut off, and the shower door open. Nervous as she had been in years, she stood, posing, outside the master bath. He strode out, carrying at towel, nude.

He jolted to a halt when he saw her, "What the hell are you doing!?" He hurriedly wrapped the towel around himself. By the time he had it around his waist, he had taken in the sight of her body, beautifully on display. Relieved to see lust in his eyes, she took small steps toward him, reached out for the towel, and pulled it off him. His cock sprang upward. She strolled seductively to his bedside.

Merrill turned, slipped the negligee off of one shoulder, and then the next. It fell to the floor like a feather. He seized her, kissing her face and neck, and pressing himself against her. She moaned, "It's been sooo long...."

He had the self-control to whisper into her ear, "Are you sure about this?"

She took his face in her hands, and said, "Don't think. No commitments, no obligations, no consequences. Just enjoy yourself tonight. Have fun. Let it all out...."

He mauled her passionately. His hand went to her pussy. When he found her slit, and stimulated her clitoris, she threw her head back involuntarily, and moaned, "Oh, my God...oh, my God...oh, God!" She moistened. Forgetting to use the lubricant, she pushed him away far enough to allow her to climb into bed. She lay on her back, open to him. Jake's cock was bobbing up and down with his heartbeat, as if it were ready to leap off his body and dive into hers.

He jumped on the bed, climbed between her legs, held himself above her on his outstretched arms, and slid his cock along her slit. After a few moans from her, he used one hand to wiggle his penis into her vagina. He pushed the head in, put his hand on the bed beside her chest, and watched her face as he entered her. With the greatest restraint, he slid into her, gently. She held her arms at her sides. She gripped the sheets tightly in her hands. They both looked down to the juncture between their groins, watching his cock vanish inside her. When he was in to the hilt, they made eye contact again.

She knew what to expect from a Marine just back from a long deployment. She braced herself, and said, "Do it. Let it go." He grimaced, and thrust into her, hard. Grunting and moaning loudly, he delivered a flurry of hard thrusts. Her body shook, and rocked, with the force of his blows. She hung on for dear life. Merrill immediately feared that she had underestimated his ardor. He watched her breasts roll back and forth sexily. He sped up, making her breasts vibrate wildly. That sight was all the stimulation he needed.

He squinted, grimaced, and pumped his hips so fast that they were a blur. She squealed, "Eeeeeeeh! Ohhhh! Oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...!"

Jake exulted as he came inside her, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yes! Yes! Yes!" She was under such strain that she was unaware that he was coming. He suddenly pushed into her hard, froze there, and threw his head back in joyous agony. She knew, then, that he was finished.

Merrill had just endured the most violent sex of her life. After a long pause, he delivered another thrust into her. Another pause, and another thrust. He seemed to be forcing out his last drops of semen. He opened his eyes, drew back, and withdrew from her. She issued a soft, "Ooooh," as he did. He flopped over onto his back, next to her. He stared at the ceiling, breathing hard. She pulled a sheet over herself, and lay on her side, with a groan. Hearing the ache in her voice, he turned his head to her, and asked, "All right?"

"Yes, I'm all right. A little sore, but I'm fine."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"Don't be sorry. I wanted you to let it all out. I understand your need for release." He had been celibate for only three days. Merrill assumed it had been nine months. She fell silent, unsure if he preferred to talk after sex. After a while, she got out of bed. She picked up his damp bath towel, and wrapped it around herself. She went downstairs, and returned with a corkscrew and wine glasses. She stood by the bed, opening the wine. He watched her screw into the cork, and strain to pull it out. They both laughed at the symbolism. She poured, handed him a glass, and they clinked glasses in a silent toast.

She went downstairs again, this time returning with a large grocery bag. She broke out food, plates, napkins and flatware. He sat up against the headboard, watching. She brought him a plate of lasagna with garlic bread. She still wore the towel. She had it wrapped tightly around her chest. It pushed her breasts up attractively. She put a piece of lasagna on her plate, laid it on the bed next to his hip, and nestled down. She took his cock in her hand, and licked it all over. It was, she thought, a pretty big one. She took it into her mouth, and gave it a few vigorous sucks. He moaned happily.

Next, Merrill smiled devilishly. With her fingers, she fished a layer of pasta out of her lasagna. She took the sheet of pasta, covered with marinara sauce, and wrapped it around his cock. She slid it up and down his cock, slowly. It was slick with oil and sauce. He narrowed his eyes and grimaced with the sensation. She unwrapped the pasta, took a big bite of it, and lay it back on her plate. She ravenously sucked the oil and sauce off of his cock.

Meredith methodically disassembled her lasagna, smearing it on his cock, and eating it off of him. He took bites of his own dinner between sucks. When she had consumed most of her piece, he set both of their plates on the nightstand. They both got up on their knees. He peeled the towel off her, and devoured her breasts with his mouth, one at a time. She moaned in ecstasy. Other than her clitoris, her nipples were her main erogenous zone.