One Night Ch. 09

"You're undressing," said Jake, tilting his head in my direction, though he couldn't see. "I liked watching you undress..."

"Sorry," I said, bending down to kiss his cheek.

My clothes shed, I climbed onto the bed and straddled Jake, the bottle and toy beside his hips, and started dry-humping him through his jeans.

"Oh, God, I love it when you do that... Ugh..." he grunted, bucking his hips up to meet mine. "Harder..."

"Not yet, baby," I said, moving so I could tug his jeans down off his hips.

"Oh, this isn't like you," he said, sounding saddened.

"How so?"

"You're all about foreplay. I don't think I've ever had you take my jeans off without running your tongue along my stomach or at least kissing my pelvic bone. I miss it."

"Sorry, but this is a different fantasy, Jake. The person I am right now isn't the kind for foreplay," I said, injecting a lot of mystery into my tone.

"Uh, is this a fantasy I know about?" he asked, sounding nervous.

"Oh, I should hope you know it well. It's yours..."

"Oh, God..." His lips parted again, this time with a look of recognition on his face. "Then... if you're not Sam... Who are you?"

"I don't know exactly. You wouldn't tell me."

"Sam... Sam, this... I mean, you can't. How could you...?"

"Don't make me gag you, too," I growled, taking his now rock-hard cock in my right hand. I stroked him for a bit, forcing him to focus on the pleasure. "Now, there is something I want to do to you and I know I can make you happy, but you have to trust me. This is what you wanted, Jake, so hush..."

"Oh, God, forgive me," he gasped.

Straddling his hips, I opened the blue bottle and squeezed a small drop of the coconut-scented lubricant onto my fingertip. With a soft sigh, I reached up and drew the tip of that finger down his cheek to his collarbone. Upon realizing what it was, I saw the flush rise in his face, but he didn't say anything. I leaned forward and then licked the sweet trail off his skin, making him gasp.

"Stay put," I said, moving off of him.

I think he knew what I was doing based on the look of mixed recognition and bewilderment on his face. I knelt on the bed beside him, attaching a strap-on to myself, feeling a strong sense of urgency and unease. What I was about to do wasn't something a lot of women did for their men—hell, few men who were dating women would want them to, I'm sure. But there I was. And frankly, I wanted it. I wanted to be on top, forcing "myself" down into him. It would feel good and I knew it.

"Sam..." he gasped, breathing hard. "Where are you?"

"Right here," I softly said, laying a loving hand on his bare abdomen, feeling the muscles tighten under his skin. "I'm not going anywhere, babe."

"I'm scared, Sam. I—I'm not sure I can do this."

"Too bad," I whispered, brushing my lips across his shoulder. "This is what you wanted and I plan on taking it all the way."

"This isn't right..."

"It feels right. You want this, Jake, and I want to let you have it, so it can't be too wrong. Don't you think?"

"Oh, God," gasped Jake as he started to tremble.

"Now," I said in as deep a voice as I could muster while still sounding sexy, "get on your knees."

"H—how?" he stuttered.

"Like this," I sighed, grinning as I helped him into position.

I knew it was hard to rest on your hands and knees while your wrists were bound at arm's length in front of you, but with a little stumbling and slipping, he got just right.

"Now," I purred into his ear, still trying to sound manly and forceful, "you want a fuck?"

"Uh, I—I—"

"I asked if you want to be fucked, bitch?"

"Oh, yes," he whimpered, and I could tell he was finally accepting what was being done to him—and he was going to allow himself to enjoy it. After all, he did want it. "Fuck me, please..."

I knelt behind him, admiring the way his muscular back arched as he gasped for air. The color of his skin, a lovely golden mocha due to his partial Hispanic heritage, was beautiful, and I could see each bone in his spine. His ass was right in front of me, begging to be fucked, but I was having a hard time mustering the courage to do so. I glanced down at his legs, lean and strong from hours at the gym as of late, and felt my pussy give a little shudder. Usually, I was seeing those legs from between them as we lay in the 69 position on his couch, sucking each other off. Gingerly, I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his left cheek, surprised by how smooth his skin was. He gave a quiet moan and I realized I was wasting precious time.

I got up on my knees and leaned against him. He gasped beneath me. I wanted him so bad, but I was hesitant because it was almost like I was about to take his virginity. But I suppose there was a sort of cherry to be popped here: he'd never been with a man before and I was going to be the first to penetrate him. The thought was humbling and flattering.

I reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube where it was laid, forgotten, by his pillow, and I opened it. I squirted a long streak of it on the flesh-toned plastic that stuck out awkwardly from my hips. I rubbed it all over until the prosthetic penis glistened with a blue-tinted sheen. Then, I pressed the muzzle of the tube against his asshole and squeezed, letting the lube ooze inside him. He gasped again, but kept still. Terrified and aroused beyond belief, I gripped the head of the strap-on and guided it towards his entrance. As I pressed the head against his tight hole, he shuddered.

"I'm scared, Sam," whispered Jake.

"Me too," I said, reaching up to place a loving hand on his shoulder. "But I'll stop if ever you decide you don't like it. I only want to make you feel good, baby."

"I know. And Sam... I know you won't hurt me. You won't have to stop."

I grinned, catching the joy in voice and thrust my hips forward. He groaned as I impaled him on my imitation cock, but arched his neck, preparing for a fuck. I penetrated him slowly, wanting him to savor the sensation. I was disappointed that I couldn't feel anything. I actually wished the cock was real just so I could enjoy the way he felt wrapped so tightly around me—the way I felt to him. But the strap-on did sit against my clit so when I fucked him, I would get pleasure too, so I wasn't going to complain.

Feeling his muscles relax somehow through the vinyl protrusion, I pulled back, feeling the lubricant slip and allow me free movement inside him. Then, whispering softly, "I love you," I fucked him. I flung my hips against him as hard as I could and I heard him gasp.

"You're mine, bitch," I growled, trying to sound like a man again. Having a thought, I quickly leaned over him to whisper in his ear, "And I'm not me right now. I'm whoever you want me to be. Gasp, whisper, scream whoever's name you dream about. This is your fantasy."

"Thank you," gasped Jake. "Thank you so much..."

Not wasting another second, I started to fuck the fake boner in and out of his spectacular ass. I really wished for a moment that I was a man so I could truly enjoy what I was getting. See, I was the woman who got the cock that every girl who knew Jake wanted desperately. It was amazing that I was also the "man" who got to fuck the ass all the boys who knew him wanted, too.

"Oh, harder, please," I heard him grunt, so I obliged.

"You're mine, bitch. I am gonna fuck you 'til you can't take it anymore. You like that? You like that bitch?" I barked, grabbing his hips and driving myself inside him.

I leaned over and licked the taught muscles between his shoulders, loving the way they moved under his skin as he rocked his body back against mine. In a stroke of genius, I reach around his thin waist and grabbed onto his own cock, feeling just how much he was enjoying my ministrations. I don't think he'd ever been that hard before. I loved the way his voice sounded as he grunted and groaned, begging for more.

"Harder, please!" he would shout. "Oh, God, don't stop!"

What got me was that he never actually said the name of whoever it was who was supposedly fucking him. If it wasn't me, I sure as hell had no clue who it was. Although, him apparently being some sort of bi, it could have been anyone, real or fictional.

It didn't long for me to have a short, intense orgasm as the dildo rubbed against my clitoris. It hit me like a knife in the pussy and my juices ran down my legs as I continued fucking Jake, who was clearly unaware of my climax. That didn't bother me, though. The only thing that mattered was him getting off.

"Jake," I grunted, having a hard time forming words as the strap-on ground against my now sensitive clit, "you are a pathetic little cunt and I... I am gonna... f—fuck you... so hard. Goddamn, your ass is tight, bitch."

As I whispered all these little obscenities, I continued stroking his cock as it rocked against his hard, flat stomach. I felt his pre-cum oozing out, wetting my fingertips and I knew he was close, so close. But I still hoped to make it last. I watched the back of his neck, the way his body moved and rocked beneath me, and I was overwhelmed with affection for him. And in the way he moved, I could see just how much this meant to him. He was close, and he showed it by the way his voice changed from hungry and horny to desperate for release: there was a certain strain there I had learned to recognize.

But I liked what I was doing to him and I wasn't ready for him to be done. I kept fucking him as deeply as the strap-on would allow, fucking his cock in my hand with short, powerful jerks, meant to cause him deep pleasure. I was nearing my second orgasm now and I wanted to draw it out; I liked the way the prosthesis ground into my clit, but it hurt for a few minutes after climax and I wasn't ready for that again.

"God, oh God," Jake suddenly grunted, sweat rivulets rolling down his back. "B—Bill, I can't—oh God don't stop! Fuck me, please..."

I felt my hands go numb. Did he just say Bill? Bill, as in, his old coworker, Bill? Our friend Bill? Oh. My. God. I could barely concentrate on my job as my mind wheeled. I had joked a time or two about Jake and Bill being ghei for one another because they were such good friends. I didn't mean anything by it, but hell... he clearly said "Bill" just now. That... that means something. But what I wasn't sure.

"Jake..." I growled, trying with everything I had to inflect my speech the way Bill spoke. It was hard. He was just a regular guy, but somehow I found it in the way I whispered, "You're mine." Somehow, it sounded a bit like him.

"Bill," Jake moaned beneath me, confirming the name he'd uttered seconds before. "Hurt me..."

Not knowing how else to hurt him as busy as I was, I leaned forward and bit his shoulder. He groaned in pain and then whimpered. I thought he liked it, so I did it again, making a little trail of bite marks down his back, as close to his ass as I could without breaking myself in half. Releasing my one-handed grip on his hip, I reared back and slapped his ass, feeling his hole clench around the dildo as I did so.

"Come on, bitch," I growled. "Come for me..."

"Uh, I will... Oh, just don't... don't stop... Oh, B—Bill, I... I can't... it's so good..."

"Come, you bitch!"

"UGH!!!"

Jake's release hit him as hard as mine had on my birthday. His body shuddered beneath me as a stream of hot cum spilt out of him on the sheets under him, streaking them in white. He arched his neck, backing into me as best he could, grunting like he was in pain. I felt his ass contract around the strap-on, milking the dildo. I finally let my own self go, feeling my slow, painful orgasm rock my body, though nothing like the one Jake was still enjoying beneath me.

"Oh, ugh..." he grunted softly, falling forward onto the bed.

I felt his whole body go limp and I knew it was over. Slowly I pulled the dildo out of his asshole and took it off me. As much fun as I had fucking him for those few minutes, I didn't really like the fake cock sticking out of me. I tossed it to the floor and I collapsed on top of Jake, all my strength gone; I hadn't felt that weak in a long time.

"God, Sam, God," he whimpered, tugging weakly against his restraints.

Willing my body to move, I reached up and undid the scarves binding him and his hands fell limply over his head the way mine had done before. We both giggled softly as I rolled off him, landing heavily beside him. Jake turned a bit and put one arm over me, resting it there, not holding me really.

"Sam," he whispered, softly, desperately, nuzzling my cheek, "how can I thank you?"

"Love me again tomorrow," I purred, nuzzling him right back. "And the next day..."

I looked up at him, his eyes wide and damp, and smiled, knowing just how wonderful he felt at that moment. His lips parted so sweetly and the wan light of the room reflected in those dark-honey eyes and I just felt so needed, so appreciated. The way his brow was furrowed, the way his lips were pursed, just showed his gratitude.

"Sam..."

"Hush, Jake. It's okay, baby."

After a long silence, though, Jake finally mumbled, "About what I yelled..."

"I think it's kinda hot."

"What?" he said, leaning back.

"I'd love to watch Bill fuck you for real. I wish he would. It would be so hot."

"You... you'd be willing to share me with someone else?"

I paused, thinking. "You love me more than anything, yes?"

"Yeah..."

"And you only love Bill as a friend, right?"

"Right, but—"

"But you have a serious crush on him—in a purely sexual way. An empty, meaningless attraction, besides your genuine affection for him as a friend."

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess that's about right."

"I think it's hot."

"You'd watch?" mumbled Jake, grinning.

"And fuck myself hard," I answered, nodding matter-of-factly. "But that is a matter for later. I wanna know how you feel right now."

"Like the luckiest fuck on the face of the earth," he sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing as his forehead bumped against mine. "I love you so goddamn much."

I smiled against his mouth, which was brushing gently against mine where we lay. The softest touches were as arousing and wild as the dirtiest licks and hardest fucking. It was so tender and beautiful that, sometimes, I couldn't stand it all. The curves of his body, the lines of his face, the soft rhythm of his breathing, the color of his skin, the taste of his flesh, the softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, the heat of his body, the tenderness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the strength of his love, the hardness of his muscles... what else could be said? I mean, there are only so many words in the English language and his perfection transcended all I knew. Love was an understatement. Desire was an insult. Dependence was an idiom. Jake was... Jake.

And he was mine.

"Thank you, Sam," he whispered, cupping my face with his right hand, as his left was still stretched out at his side, not visible to me over the sweet curve of his backside.

"You're welcome, Jake. I love you, baby."

"I love you more... and more."