Southern Comfort Ch. 02

"It wasn't about the money," Jon said in an equally low voice. He ducked his head to kiss me again, but I pulled away and swam out of his reach.

"The hell it isn't!" I called to him. "I worked hard for that, I'll have you know!" I snipped at him as I grabbed for more of the bills. I had quite a few of them in my hand when he dived below the water again and came up under me.

"You didn't do it for the money," he argued as he resurfaced next to me. "You didn't even know about the money. You did it forthis," he said as he pulled me under water with him again.

I was choking when he finally let me come up for air. I swam for the edge of the pool still clutching the bills in my hand. I felt for the concrete in the dark and when my hand touched it, I mustered my strength and lifted myself from the water. I had one knee on the edge of the pool and was struggling to get to my hands and both knees when I felt someone grasp my arm in the dark and help pull me to my feet. I felt the silk stockings pick and tear on the concrete edge of the pool.

When I was finally standing upright, I could barely see the face of my rescuer in the dark. It was Bob. His face was emotionless. We stood there staring at one another for a moment. His gaze dropped to the now transparent white teddy and garters I was wearing. He cleared his throat, fumbled for my hand in the dark and placed a small stack of limp, dripping bills in it. "Some of the money," he said, grimly.

"Thank you," I mumbled back at him. The rest of the crowd had dispersed, going back inside for more drinks.

"You're stockings are ruined," he said. I could feel his breath on my cheeks. It was warm in the chill of the night air. He was still holding my upper arm tightly in his grasp, almost too tightly.

I didn't respond to his comment. I wasn't sure if the friction in the air was because he disapproved, or for some other reason. Neither of us said another word. We were just standing there staring at one another in the dark. It seemed like all I could hear was the steady rhythm of his breathing and all I could feel was him gripping my arm and the warmth of his breath on my face.

"Where'd you go?" Jon called from the pool breaking the awkward silence. I could hear him splashing about looking for me in the dark.

"Here!" I called laughing at him.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked. "We can find something better to do, I'll bet!" he chuckled at me. Bob was still holding my arm when Jon emerged from the pool. "Oh, hey, Bob," Jon said with a wary tone, seeing Bob for the first time. "I thought everybody had gone."

"I was just leaving," Bob said quietly. He dropped my arm and turned on his heel. He disappeared around the corner of the building, instead of heading to the Club as the others had done.

"Huh!" Jon grunted. "I wonder what his problem is?" he mused, watching Bob vanish in the dark.

"I think he's pissed for losing the bet with you," I said carelessly. I handed Jon the wad of bills in my hand. "Here's your money. Now, what am I going to get?" I asked cheerfully.

"Let's go, and I'll show you," he grinned. He grabbed up my dress and squeezed more of the water from it. He picked up his jacket which was the only dry thing he had and wrapped it around me. "Are you cold? It's a little too early in the year to go swimming," he commented. Jon reached down and placed my shoes at my feet. I slipped them on and followed him towards his apartment where a warm shower and hot coffee were waiting.

It was at least an hour later before I climbed into bed beside him. He had the hot coffee and whiskey waiting. I'd started the evening drinking, but the dip in the cold pool had dulled the effects of the alcohol, so I was by no means intoxicated. Jon was smoking a joint when I joined him. He offered it to me and at first I declined as I usually did.

"Take a hit," he urged. "It'll help you relax."

I eyed him suspiciously. "Is there a reason you want me to relax?" I asked.

"Could be. You never know," he shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the twinkle in his brown eyes. It was a dead give away that something sinister was afoot.

"Just what are you up to now?" I asked as I reluctantly accepted the joint and took a small puff. Jon seldom encouraged me to smoke with him, so I felt there must be a valid reason behind his request.

"Why is it that you are always so suspicious?" he countered with a grin.

"Not always. Just when you get that look in your eyes," I protested. "So, what is it you're up to this time?"

"Why are you in such a rush to find out? I keep trying to tell you to slow down and take it easy," he said. "Why don't you come over here and lay with me? We'll talk about the first thing that pops up," he suggested.

I set my coffee aside and he pulled me back against his chest. "That's better," he said with a sigh of contentment. He wrapped one arm across my chest just below my neck and buried his face in my hair. He stroked my breast with his other hand and I felt my nipples rise to receive his attention. His penis awakened without coaxing, and pressed against my ass.

"Want to play a game?" he whispered next to my ear.

"Like what? Hide and Seek?" I sniffed.

"I was thinking more along the lines of something involving a blindfold," he laughed.

"So, I get to blindfold you and let you feel your way around?" I asked.

"No. More like I blindfold you and watch you masturbate. You know me. I have this nasty voyeuristic fetish going on," he retorted. His tone told me he wasn't teasing me.

"I wouldn't say no to the blindfold, but I'm not sure about the other part. Why should I have to masturbate when you have a perfectly good penis just lying around? I think you're getting lazy in your old age," I argued.

"Maybe I'm just spoiled. I enjoy letting you do most of the work once in a while," he laughed. "But, let's go back to that whole blindfold idea for a minute."

"Let's not, and just say we did," I snipped. He laughed again and slid one hand between my legs as he thrust his cock back and forth from behind. He still had one arm draped across my neck, pressing me firmly back against his chest.

He sighed in mock resignation. "That's okay. I don't need ropes and blindfolds. I can just hold you down and have my way with you," he laughed softly against my ear. My hands instinctively went to the arm around my neck. I gripped it tightly with both hands as a surge of panic came over me. I tried to push him away, but Jon was in the perfect position to prevent me from escaping his grasp.

He slid one knee between my legs and hooked it around my calf. He forced my knees apart and I went into full panic mode. At that particular moment, I don't think he realized the level of my emotional distress. He was busy with one hand teasing my clit, while his cock was adding to the torment by sliding between the lips of my open cunt.

An unpleasant memory from my past came rushing to the surface and I found myself completely paralyzed by fear. I was so overwhelmed by the feeling of helplessness I couldn't even speak. He apparently mistook my silence for compliance. It was only when I sank my teeth into his forearm that he snapped to the realization that I was not willingly taking part in the game he played.

"Shit!" he cursed aloud as I bordered on drawing blood with my teeth. "Whoa! Whoa!" he ordered with obvious surprise at the tenacity of my hold on him. Had he chosen to jerk his arm away, it might have caused irreparable damage to one or both of us. Instead, he relaxed his grip on my neck and raised his other hand in the air as a sign of his own surrender. His penis instantly deflated.

I felt able to breathe again and my jaw loosened enough that he could extract his arm to examine the damage I had inflicted. It left only a bruised purple bite mark. Thankfully, I failed to puncture the skin. His second concern was for me. I was sitting upright still dazed by the entire incident and rubbing at my throat.

"Are you okay?" he asked sharply.

I managed to stammer a response. "I think so. I don't like being held down like that, Jon."

"Yeah, I think I got that message loud and clear," he said with a frown. "But, that was no ordinary 'I don't like that' kind of response. I think you owe me more of an explanation than that one. You bit me!" he vehemently accused. "Now, would you like to tell me what the hell just happened here?"

"I panicked," I shrugged wishing he would just drop the subject.

"I got that part," he said firmly. "My question is why?" I remained mute, refusing to answer his probing questions.

"Okay, so you don't want to talk about it right now. I'm not quite as stupid as I look. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure this one out," he said sounding hurt by my refusal to discuss it. "When you're ready, you'll tell me, but in the meantime, we have to work out some basic issues of trust. You know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, don't you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I told you I trusted you the first night you brought me here," I said looking around at my surroundings. There was still a part of me that felt flawed somehow. I knew Jon was right about establishing a trust between us. Now was the time to prove to myself I meant what I had said. "You want to try it again?" I asked tentatively.

"You mean the same thing?" he asked sounding surprised by the suggestion. I nodded and he reached out to stroke my hair. "Come lay with me then," he said patting his chest as an invitation. I settled back against him once more, but this time, he made no move trap me within his arms. Instead, I was the one who reached for him and placed his arm across my chest.

His right hand resumed its play between my legs. His penis was still soft and I felt a pang of guilt for having made him lose his perfectly good hard-on. He was cautiously massaging my clit.

"Comfortable?" he asked quietly. I murmured a soft 'Mmm' to let him know I was calm. I voluntarily spread my legs a little wider and released his arm with one hand. I covered the hand between my thighs with my own and I felt the rhythm of his breathing quicken. His cock stirred and began to stiffen.

He played for a few moments longer before he slid his hand from under mine and he searched a bit lower. His fingers penetrated me without hesitation. He stroked inside of me until he was satisfied I was relaxed enough to accept his penis as a replacement.

I could feel him between my legs, completely rigid, but he made no attempt to do anything more than rub himself against my pussy. My own hand grew still with the anticipation of having his cock inside me. "Don't stop," he urged in a whisper. I resumed the façade of masturbating myself for his pleasure.

He withdrew his fingers and placed them lightly against my lips. "Taste them," he commanded. I tentatively licked them with my tongue before sucking them both inside my mouth at once. I received the happy response of "Oh, fuck yeah," as a low growl in my ear.

When he withdrew his fingers from my mouth, he returned them to assist in massaging my clit. I gave the arm across my throat a gentle squeeze and said, "Hold me tighter." Only then did he tighten his grip on me and with a smooth motion, he spread my legs with his knee, and entered me in one long thrust.

He paused for a few seconds to be certain I was not resisting him in any way and he began to fuck me with slow strokes.

Jon had told me more than once that he loved me. He wasn't shy about saying it, even in public. But, on this occasion, he said two words that changed me forever. It changed both of us. He said simply, "You're mine."

That declaration changed the entire nature of our relationship. He must have sensed the change in me the moment he said it, because he became more physically aggressive. He was no less gentle as a lover, but he was certainly more demanding.

He removed his hand from my vagina and said gruffly, "I want to watch you make yourself cum. Understand?" I nodded rather weakly.

He entwined his other leg around mine and forced me to open myself completely to him. "Then do it!" he snapped as he thrust his penis in deep. The tone of his voice was enough to send me over the edge. Within seconds, I began to shake uncontrollably, and the more he strengthened his hold on me, the harder I came.

He uttered a long, low growl and I could feel his cock throbbing inside me. I realized he was climaxing right along with me. His timing was perfect and I had to marvel later at the level of his control to make that happen.

A short time later, he relaxed and abruptly pushed me away from him. I was startled by his sudden action and was about to complain when I realized he was holding his chest and literally gasping for air. He sat up on the edge of the bed and broke into a coughing fit he couldn't suppress.

I leaped from the bed and hurried to the kitchen to retrieve something cold for him to drink. I rushed back with a can of coke. I was on my knees behind him and he was bent forward still seizing from the attack. I pulled him upright and cradled him against my shoulder. His color wasn't good. He looked grey and I knew it was from a lack of oxygen.

"Goddamn it, Jon, breathe!" I hissed at him. My first thought was that he was having a heart attack, and I think he must have thought the same thing. "Don't you dare fucking die on me!" I shouted at him. "Breathe, Jon! Breathe!"

I heard him make a strangled gasping wheeze and I could tell he was beginning to recover. I picked up the coke I had dropped on the bed and popped the top, placing it to his lips. He took several small swallows and cleared his throat repeatedly before he was able to speak. He was still holding his chest.

"I'm alright," he grumbled with an audible rumble still in his lungs. I was supporting most of his weight against me and he was looking at me with glassy eyes.

"The hell you are!" I snapped. "Should I call an ambulance?" He waved his hand at me and took several deep breaths. "You scared the shit out of me! Are you going to be okay?" I asked again.

He nodded and made a feeble attempt to sit up without my support. I steadied him with one hand and plumped the pillows against the headboard. "Sit back and catch your breath," I said, calmer now that he was actually speaking to me.

Once he was leaned back on the pillows, I handed him the coke. He was able to take several large swallows and the color was returning to his cheeks. He laughed a little and said sheepishly, "I think you're trying to kill me, but what a way to go! Death by massive orgasm," he teased looking embarrassed by the whole thing.

He must have seen the look on my face because he was quick to add, "I'm fine now. I just lost my breath for a minute. Really! I feel fine. I'm just a little tired is all." He flashed me a grin. "I told you I'm an old man. You have to take it easy on us old guys, unless you want to make the headlines by fucking us to death."

"It's not funny, Jon," I said shaking my head at him.

"I know. I'm just tired now. I think I need some rest. Would you mind if we call it a night?" he asked.

"No, I don't mind, but if you think for one second I'm walking out of here and leave you alone, you've got another thing coming. I'll take the couch for awhile and I'll let myself out later when I'm sure you're okay," I replied.

"You don't have to stay, but it would be sweet if you did. You sure you don't mind?" he asked again. I shook my head at him and began straightening the covers on the bed.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked as I quickly picked up the room and gathered a dry suit of clothes to wear when I left.

"No, I don't think so, honey. Thanks, though. I think I'll just lie down and get some sleep," he said lazily with his eyes already growing heavy.

"You call me in the morning when you get up," I insisted as I leaned down and kissed his forehead. He felt a little clammy to me, but I said nothing about it.

He closed his eyes and nodded. I took my things and made my way in the dark to the sofa. I didn't fall asleep. I checked on him several times and he was sleeping soundly. I let myself out around five in the morning and went home.

When Jon called me later that day, he sounded fine. I was so relieved that there were no indications of anything serious. Like he had said, he was over tired and he simply lost his breath. But, the incident did frighten me and I began to question the wisdom of keeping up the pace we had set for both our sakes.

**********

A few nights later, we were enjoying Happy Hour with the usual gathering of friends. The subject of men and women came up as it always somehow managed to do.

"If I was a woman, I'd be the world's dirtiest little whore," Sarge commented in a drunken stupor. The gang all laughed at him. "I would!" he said emphatically.

"Women have it easy," someone else said in agreement. "All they have to do is walk into bar and men flock to them."

"A good looking woman has it made," Ivan snorted.

"It isn't about being pretty, or being a whore," Jon said shaking his head in disagreement with them.

"Bullshit!" Ivan retorted.

"Oh, I admit, being pretty helps, but it's about how a woman acts that earns her what she wants," Jon explained. The entire group disagreed with him. Jon leaned on the bar and I saw his eyes light up. "I'll tell you boys what. Who do you think is the prettiest woman here?" he asked looking around.

All the opinions were different. Each man had his own distinct taste. "What about my girl here?" Jon said, slipping his hand around my waist and pulling me close to him.

A mumble of embarrassed apologies went out. "Okay, so we all agree that Cindy's got looks, but most of you think she isn't the prettiest girl here, right?" he asked slyly. Several of the men looked at the floor unwilling to say anything that might offend me.

"It isn't that, Jon," David protested. "Cindy's beautiful, but maybe she isn't our idea of the perfect woman. It's about personal taste," he explained.

Jon gave me a squeeze. "Well, I'll put my girl up against any five women in here!" he declared.

"What do you mean?" Ivan asked warily.

"Y'all pick any five women, and we'll take them all to a different bar. You can even pick the place. I'll wager you Cindy can get more come-on's and propositions than your five combined!" Jon said with pride. An excited buzz went through the crowd. "Is it a bet?" Jon demanded with pure arrogance.

While the men were discussing it, I leaned to Jon and whispered, "You're taking a real chance here, you know."

Jon grinned down at me and said in a low voice, "I don't think so. Just work the crowd, baby," he said in a conspiratorial tone. "I'm about to make a fucking killing!" he growled in a whisper and chuckled at me.

It took a little while to work out the details and to get several other girls to agree to take part in the fiasco. Jon had to offer to buy them all dinner on another night.

A 'score' was defined as the offer to buy the girls a drink, to dance, or an invitation for a date. It was further agreed that none of the men in the betting pool would count as being a score. The tally would be taken promptly at eleven p.m. It gave us roughly two hours to complete the competition.

The only rule for the girls was that they couldn't ask the men for anything that would count as a score. They had to make the men do the asking. The men selected the Cypress Lounge as the bar. It was considered neutral ground.

Within a few minutes, the gang was ready to roll. I hung back a bit. "You guys go ahead," I told them all. "I'll be right behind you."

"You're not going to stand me up, are you?" Jon asked with concern in a low voice.

I shook my head at him. "You do want to win this bet, don't you?" I asked. He nodded with a twinkle in his eyes. "Then let me do it my way," I informed him.