Jade: My Story

[Chrislydi]

Can't wait, but absolutely no pressure. We'll really be more than happy to read it whenever, but what a teaser of a finish to your comment .

Chris

[Johng1953]

I think calling Walker weak is a little unfair of me.
As Chris pointed out, Walker and Jade didn't get to this point overnight.
"I shouldn’t have been surprised that after the second anniversary of our relationship, I realized I had fallen in love with Michael.". The time scale was something I don't think I fully took in when I first read the latest chapter. Change over time can happen almost unnoticed until it becomes the norm.
Plus again, as is very much part of the ongoing story, Walker has been complicit and proactive in pushing Jade into her sexual adventures and in enjoying them vicariously, another fact I think I didn't really take into account enough when making that comment about him.
Anyway, I am really looking forward to what happens next and how things work out.

[BDJ]

This post begins the conclusion of my saga. It’s largely been the mixture of fact and fiction I indicated at the beginning. The timeline and evolution of our sexual involvement with others, though, is accurate. This last segment has been the most painful to write as it painfully illustrates the unexpected pitfalls of a lifestyle that included others in our quest for a heightened sexual gratification within our marriage.

Chapter Four

An Uncomfortable Fate

I’ll bet he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said, I thought as I returned my husband’s impassive, steadfast gaze. It peeved me that he was doing it…again. It was like he was looking right through me. Everything had been going smoothly for such a long time; work, living on the farm, teaching. Walker and I were good; comfortable really after I made it up to him following the Valentine’s Day mishap. I could see the hurt in his eyes when he’d confronted me that afternoon. I’d even had to grovel some before he would accept my apologies, but we were back on track after some hot sex—spiced up with the details from the night before. It hadn’t changed my feelings about sharing my time with Michael though, and after future visits I reverted to form, denying him my body or any mention of the fucking I’d just had. Thankfully, he accepted that return to the status quo. We settled back into the rhythm of our lives and everything appeared normal as the months went by and routine dominated our time together. By all appearances he seemed satisfied with the way things were going. But life revolved around him doing his thing and me doing mine. It seemed enough for him. It was fine with me too, especially if I got what I needed from Michael. Scratching that itch had become top priority for me and I found myself often wrangling visits to his house.

This shit with the stare had started after we’d decided he should experience some variety too; to get some strange pussy for himself. He should be rewarded, I’d argued, for the years of unstinting support—my loving companion when I had been a wayward child. Not that he’d needed much convincing, I’d thought when we’d discussed it; readily agreeing the best way to keep our reputations intact in such a small community was for us to live apart for a time. He thought he’d have a variety of women, just casual sex when the opportunity presented itself. That fit in with my plans. I wanted to be completely free to further explore my relationship with Michael without having to worry about what Walker or anybody else would think. And to be honest, I knew Michael would never consider coming to me—fully committing to a permanent arrangement—unless Walker was out of the picture.

To be known as Michael’s girl—the thought energized me. I wanted to be seen with him, to date him openly, for my friends to know. To be honest I wanted to show him off. The vehicle to do that came a few months after Walker and I had split. I had long been a fixture in the local arts scene and Walker had dutifully accompanied me to the functions. This year I’d been on the board of the Fine Arts Association and helped with the organization’s major show of local talent. I’d also gotten a blue ribbon for one of my studies. Walker had been at the ceremony, like always, and apparently had seen me arrive with Michael. At the reception afterwards he kept seeing me in a close embrace with him and overheard me telling someone he was my boyfriend. I had been so proud doing that; claiming him as mine. I’d seen Walker nearby and hoped he’d come by but he never did. That frustrated me, I wanted my two men to meet. Later he’d called and we’d argued about it. I told him he had his little economics teacher with her big, hanging tits to screw—she’d stepped up and asked him out soon after she found he was available—and I had Michael, so what was the problem: we were both getting what we wanted. He didn’t have an answer to that but I could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn’t happy with our arrangement now. He suggested that maybe our being separated might not be best thing for us anymore. But I told him, uh-uh, I wasn’t ready to quit—not yet. My need for what Michael gave me: his attention, his affection—and god, his magnificent cock—was still way too strong. And he was mine now in a way he wouldn’t be if I went back to Walker. I didn’t want to give that up, didn’t know if I could. I told him that I wanted more time to enjoy myself—that he should too. We’d ended the conversation in a stalemate, which for me felt as if I’d won the argument. But that resistance to his wishes started an attitude of indifference toward me when we were together, and now he came to help with work on the farm only when it was absolutely necessary. He would always shut down and I’d be met with that look whenever I tried to find out about his love life or talk about Michael. I don’t know why I’d chosen today, of all the times he had been here, to tell him of my true feelings about the man I’d come to love over him. He had pushed me again to reunite, saying I could even continue my relationship with Michael, but that we needed to be together—to reconnect. And then it just came out. But he wouldn't listen to me; I wanted him to understand why I’d decided we weren’t ever going to be together again—that I didn’t want him anymore.

My husband and I were now mentally facing off, the kitchen table our demilitarized zone. I held his stare, determined to play his game. We’d both gone into defensive postures of folded arms and quiet stares after my admission that that Michael had replaced him in my heart, and I wanted to be his forever. “So, no chance of getting back together. Your toy-boy over us?” he asked, the sarcasm in his voice almost overriding the emotional distress I’d clearly heard.

That realization, that Michael was the man I wanted, needed, had come slowly. I’d almost been living with my lover for the past three months, ever since he’d lost his driver’s license and I had volunteered to ferry him around. Spending some nights at his house seemed to be the most convenient arrangement for us. It had cemented our love for each other.

I wouldn’t back down, I vowed to myself, not now. Walker stared stoically at me, waiting. “I love Michael. He loves me.” I fudged on that last statement…Michael had never actually told me he loved me, but I knew in my heart he did. I looked at this man who had always dominated me, always knew what was best. I added a little testily, “I’ve made my decision. Why do I have to keep saying it?” But he was relentless, rephrasing but repeating his question. Damn Socrates. “Throw away almost twenty-five years together?” he accused, “You love him so much you’d rather spend the rest of your life sharing his bed, depending on him, not me?” I was pissed now. He wasn’t going to get me to second guess myself. I spat the words at him with a bitter vehemence I didn’t know was in me, “Yes, dammit. Yes.”

That ended the days work. He left and I couldn’t concentrate on what needed to be done. So I wimped out, like I always did when I was upset, and went to the barn to curry my horse. It always calmed me to care for Bella: my magnificent black beast. A sudden painful thought invaded my temple: Walker had urged me to buy her, to spend the extra three thousand dollars on the horse I loved, not the one we could afford.

I sighed in recognition of a life recklessly lived and a relationship irrevocably gone. But I could have let him down easier, I chided myself; then accepted the fact that I hadn't. Anyway, finally having Michael was worth it. I mentally recapped our time together, more than two and a half years now. We had so much in common: both artists, we had fun exploring new places and meeting people who shared our interests. He never ceased to thrill me when we were together and he would sidle up to me, arm embracing me at the waist; giving me a soft kiss on my neck accompanied by sweet nothings whispered in my ear. He’d become the perfect compliment to a life, now stale, that Walker and I had forged. When I was with him—hanging out—he treated me like his girlfriend, all sweet and gentle; when he took me to his bed I was his whore; a woman who deserved to be fucked hard and long; my body used however he desired. I’d come to want that; to need it often. When I was with him I felt like a complete woman.

The thoughts of how my emotional life had changed so drastically continued to dominate my thoughts as I rode the trails that crisscrossed the woods comprising most of the farm. A jarring thought occurred to me as I was deciding which meandering path to take at one of the many junctions Walker had designed; his way to make the experience even longer. My husband had created this…for me. At once I regretted my attitude toward him, but then remembered how hard it had been to get him to let me make the final decisions on where the outlooks were to be placed and the many other things I saw he was doing I didn’t like. The man could be so exasperating even when he was trying to do something special for me! That overbearing trait turned my pity for the way I had broken my news to him into enmity. Finally I’d be free of his meddling.

The almost six months since Walker had moved out had not been easy as it left me to run both farm and studio. It was nice that he had continued help in emergencies, like he’d done today. He’d told me early on the woman he’d taken up with wondered about that; that he would willingly assist his ex-spouse so often, with never a bad about her. Her own breakup had turned into a hatred for her ex-husband she didn’t see in Walker and it confused her. She didn’t know that we had planned this, and his help was part of the deal—one he continued to honor even the face of our new alienation. And it was lucky for me that he did come as he was the technical expert at casting bronze, far exceeding my ability to complete the complex process of taking my clay renderings and transforming them into the almost living images the public saw. Perversely, the more I became emotionally attached to Michael, the more I found that help to be irritating. On one level I appreciated it because it was necessary. Still, it was the last tie that bound us together. That galled me: I hated it, had gotten so I couldn’t stand to be around the silent, stoic figure he had become. So while I appreciated his assistance I also came to loathe his periodic return—our emotional rift most apparent then. But I just had to endure it a little longer. He’d been adamant he wouldn’t come again when I’d told him I’d found someone as good as him in the process of melting metal. In a few weeks he’d be out of my life forever.

Even though my work had suffered from having to pick up Michael every afternoon from school until he got his license back, I fitted it all in, knowing he appreciated it. It was a win-win for me: I loved being around him and the extra sex he gave me as a thank you. I hadn’t told him what I’d said to Walker. I considered our relationship solid but remembered his attitude about marriage and didn’t want him to…I didn’t want to risk him getting nervous about us. I thought if I talked to him about it at the right time: before we traveled to a weekend workshop we had signed up for in the big city, when he was most enamored with me, he’d listen. To get him in the mood I planned to offer him my ass—something he’d told me he’d never done—that should surely do it. If it went well then I’d tell him. I so wanted to have him permanently; marriage or not.

We decided he would spend the night at the farm the night before the event so we could get an early start on the long trip over the mountains. After a nice meal we began our evening; one that included wine and soft music. To make myself look extra appealing for this special event I had arranged my long hair so it was partially constrained, starting with two french braids, one on each side of my crown and joining in the back. I had dressed appropriately too, I thought, in a loose, thin muslin shift, mid-thigh, with a string of pearl buttons down the front undone to my tummy button; my still-slim tanned body bare beneath. I wanted to give him enticing glimpses of my breasts at every opportunity. The lightweight fabric, emphasizing both my hardened nipples and the contours my posterior, seemed to invite my lovers’ wayward hands. I fully intended to do the same to his sexy body, to let him know how much I was lusting for him.

After supper we decided to meander around outside. I distinctly felt an aura of romance grow around us as we made our way through the yard. Twilight had created the perfect backdrop, accented by the melodious serenade of tree frogs singing their love of the evening. As we slowly sauntered hand-in-hand along the flagstoned path of our herb garden I was acutely aware of Michael’s nearness: the intoxicating scent of his manliness. I felt a sense of loss when his hand left mine, then breathed a sigh of relief when it came to rest lightly on my barely covered posterior: this new touch so intimate, so soft as he explored the contours of my ass as we walked along. My pussy responded with little pulsations, growing wet from the teasingly erotic stimulation. Then he paused to hold me, enveloping me in his sweet embrace, kissing me with increasing passion, setting my body ablaze with desire. I returned the kiss, my tongue dueling with his, lips mashing hard together. I cupped his tight ass with both hands and pulled him into contact with my body, reveling at the thought I had caused the growing bulge pressed against my tummy. It was so sensual I was getting light-headed by it all. The thought came into my head then: I was sure of it, I wanted this man to be mine forever. Later, when we sat together on the back porch, swinging gently, listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong sing love duets, he only reinforced that thought by showering me with the sweetest kisses imaginable, complimented by the nimbleness of his fingers in the tender folds of my sex. I was intoxicated: floating on a cloud of love and lust even before we made our preparations for bed.

Drinking wine before a sensuous shower together set the stage: letting him remove my shift—watching his stiff, upthrust cock with its oversized head emerge as he discarded his clothes—oh, how I wanted him. We kissed and caressed our way through our bath, and then I told him of my wish by suggesting he wash my nether region especially well. His look questioned me and I held him tight, his manhood in my hand, assuring him I had taken care of the inside earlier: I knew how to make it easy for us. His concerns assuaged, he became more enthusiastic at the thought of burying his cock in my ass—fucking me—that large mushroom head in a place it had never known. The stage was set…

[Chrislydi]

The overiding impression for me was one of an inevitable conclusion almost becoming reality by default, there were times and places were the brakes could have been applied but the drift and direction of movement was always a constant, if unchanged the split was inevitable. A conclusion perhaps reached because of one strengthening relationship totally eclipsing the longer term weakening one. One relationship almost being inversely proportional to the other, the strengthening one would get stronger and at the same time magnify everything that is wrong with the weakening one. The new would replace the old and inertia would give it the final push.

We saw over a couple of years how Jade's relationship with Michael has become the sole provider of her sexual satisfaction and then develop into a real love with her emotional needs now also finding a new home, so the question was always when these elements grew even stronger why would she even want Walker? If this seems overly harsh, it probably is, but it's how human emotions and needs drive us, to experience more of what's universally good in our lives at the expense of what's started to irritate and annoy. The newer always has a tendency to outshine the more dependable older but less glamorous. We know the older model's faults and how they get on our nerves.

There's also that itch Jade describes, the physical need for Michael which once was satisfied with periodic visits, but then she needs more and more often, the same itch builds more quickly, the thrill, the excitement and the need, so as with so many other dependent drugs the strength and frequency increase, this emotional drug becomes very necessary and integral to living.

I suppose it's a sign that when the hotwife with a long term very close boyfriend starts suggesting her partner look elsewhere the red flag has really been planted on the front lawn. We can see the reasoning, the agreements, the perhaps justified rationalisation of the small town mentality and it being better for appearances, but it's all to achieve the one aim to further increase time with Michael, to prepare the ground and make him comfortable, an increasing closeness only possible without Walker's presence acting as a deterrent, the split meaning she is now free to cement her strengthening love for Michael.

We can also see by Jade's stretching of the truth in her assertion that Michael has told her he loves her, whereas she's just 'sure' he does, that there's an element of doubt that all may not be quite what it seems, and maybe from such a small scintilla of doubt a significant fracture might develop. Yes long term love although it can go stale and fade, never disappears completely, there's always something significant left over that stubbornly remains, as it weakens it can just as easily turn to hatred, even if irrationally, the smaller connection making even that less tolerable, as really the difference between love and hate is not always so clear-cut, measurable or large, but that grain left is always within you and will always remain.

Chris

[Johng1953]

I hadn't really expected an actual split though of course from what's gone before it's hardly a surprise. It still hurts just to read it though, realising of course there is a basis in reality to this story. I still remain hopeful too as in reality you are still together, or maybe I should say, together again.
I think it could be quite telling that Michael hasn't professed his love in return.

[BDJ]

Johng1953,
That Michael would never meet me (he knew I knew about them) and, while gave every indication he was on board with fulfilling all her needs and cared for her, well I guess you'll have to see what happens next.

BDJ

[Chrislydi]

I should have added a word of appreciation for the splendid writing skills of BDJ.

Whether complete fiction or factual, it's impossible for an author to be totally divorced from his creation, you identify and feel the truth of their circumstances, and it hits you just as hard. So to write about Walker and Jade's troubled marriage as it went through some very difficult times, with a style that portrays nothing but brutal honesty and truth was incredibly difficult. Even if fictional it had to come across as real with all the hard yards covered, the breakdown not sudden but almost a natural conclusion to a long slide, a process that had reached the inevitable result.

This BDJ has achieved with great thought and contemplation using all his natural skills of getting into the hearts and minds of his lead characters and describing events from more than one point of view as they happen.

It was and is both an education and a pleasure to read.

Chris.

[Chrislydi]

I hadn't really expected an actual split though of course from what's gone before it's hardly a surprise. It still hurts just to read it though, realising of course there is a basis in reality to this story. I still remain hopeful too as in reality you are still together, or maybe I should say, together again.
I think it could be quite telling that Michael hasn't professed his love in return.

I know I euphemistically called it 'a marriage going through difficult times' but it's hugely reassuring that there are better times ahead for our struggling couple. I can't but admire the great courage it's taken to write this, even if not absolutely everything is based on real life actual events. There is always at least an underlying basis of truth which makes it a really tough read when things take a sad turn.

Chris

[BDJ]

To speak to the "marriage going through difficult times" summation by Johng1953. Yes, it certainly was. During those two years before the split I largely got pussy when she felt like it...increasingly less as Michael took care of that so very well. Then, of course, after the separation none (even though that wasn't agreed upon). The opportunity was there as I worked on the farm most Saturdays. Our situation was also complicated by the introduction of another character, one who I have only briefly mentioned: "his little economics teacher with her big, hanging tits." She was as described. The same height as Jade but with a tiny waist and an ass to die for. Those tits were mom-tits, as she had a 10-year-old. She came after me...and eventually got me. I'll leave it at that but it happened that Walker/me was embarking on an affair much like Jades had with Michael, but much faster. He/I just doesn't know it yet.

BDJ

[Johng1953]

I was wondering about Walker's/your 'little economics teacher' and assumed you would expand upon that in due course. I wonder though whether you/he fell as hard as Jade though given what we already know about Walker's feelings for Jade and what we think we know about how you and your Jade end up.

[BDJ]

From Jade's recollections, she never did not remember being aware of the full scope of my emotional tie to this woman.

[Chrislydi]

All this talk of Waker's new emotional pull to the big breasted Bertha (it should have been her name if it wasn't lol) and Jade's apparent ignorance of just how strong it was, combined with the many hints of all not being quite so perfect as it seemed in Michael and Jade's utopian dreamland, is making us all thirst for the next installment.

Seriously though it's far better if it's not posted for some time yet until you're completely satisfied, I'd much rather wait a long time for the better result.

Chris

[BDJ]

I found two mistakes in the last post, despite numerous edits. I can partially blame the tendency to clarify, even add new information as my wife gives me little snippets of how he acted toward her: "He never ceased to thrill me when we were together and he would sidle up to me, arm embracing me at the waist; giving me a soft kiss on my neck accompanied by sweet nothings whispered in my ear."

It's that sort of thing, added quickly, that I found makes me miss things in the underlying structure of the surrounding paragraph.

BDJ

[Chrislydi]

I found two mistakes in the last post, despite numerous edits. I can partially blame the tendency to clarify, even add new information as my wife gives me little snippets of how he acted toward her: "He never ceased to thrill me when we were together and he would sidle up to me, arm embracing me at the waist; giving me a soft kiss on my neck accompanied by sweet nothings whispered in my ear."

It's that sort of thing, added quickly, that I found makes me miss things in the underlying structure of the surrounding paragraph.

BDJ

Anything like this your wife offers is priceless imo. I know they're not exactly one and the same but the basics are shared and Jade becomes so much more the rounded and complete woman she is when we experience the little incidental things with her too. It's these snippets that really spark and fire the emotions - it points to exactly how advanced and matured their feelings for each other are at that stage when the smallest touches meant so much, it has become that deep. That little snippet adds far more than a paragraph of words as it's from experience and remembered. Well worth an edit or two.

Chris

[BDJ]

I’m adding the last paragraph from my previous post as a reminder of what happened up to this point.

*********
Drinking wine before a sensuous shower together set the stage: letting him remove my shift—watching his stiff, upthrust cock with its oversized head emerge as he discarded his clothes—oh, how I wanted him. We kissed and caressed our way through our bath, and then I told him of my wish by suggesting he wash my nether region especially well. His look questioned me and I held him tight, his manhood in my hand, assuring him I had taken care of the inside earlier: I knew how to make it easy for us. His concerns assuaged, he became more enthusiastic at the thought of burying his cock in my ass—fucking me—that large mushroom head in a place it had never known. The stage was set…

We emerged from the somewhat confining space of the shower both hot and wet. I was wet in a place he didn’t have. He pored us some more wine and I stood, glass in hand as my stiff-dicked boyfriend began to dry me. He leaned me against the sink, then pressed against me, his tongue in my mouth, a towel trapped between us. Then he knelt before me and raised my leg so he could do my feet. He kissed my toes rather than dried them…so sexy! As a reward I made sure my legs were spread enough so he could easily see my very wet pussy. When he looked up at me after I moved I just pointed to it. That’s all it took. His tongue felt so good I didn’t mind him spending a lot of time there. But he did eventually move on, kissing then drying…it was exhilarating!! I tried to be as considerate, but because of his extensive body hair, I used the towel first, then kissed. It was fun, tonguing and kissing areas of his body I’d never really focused on before. I didn’t suck him—that I wanted to do properly, in the bedroom.

Lovemaking in the bed Walker and I shared was slow and sweet, not like the usual fuck from Michael, but akin to the kind I often experienced with someone new. We started out standing beside the bed and, after some more passionate kissing, he moved down to my breasts; gently sucking and nibbling at my nipples until I was wild with want. When I pulled back the coverlet exposing the freshly starched sheets, I was surprised he didn’t settle in and prop up against the pillows like he usually did when he expected me to suck his cock. Instead of laying down we continued our kiss on our knees, his hands firmly clutching my ass. I was so surprised I didn’t say anything, just let him do whatever he wanted. That turned out to be positioning me on my back, then fingering the folds of my butterfly lips while he focused again on my breasts. This time he sucked, bit, and pulled at my tender nipples—and not gently. I moaned as the sudden shocks of pain had their affect. I loved that type of stimulant—something Michael had learned early on. All the while I was holding his slim shaft, pulling at it, caressing its mushroom head with my fingers—losing myself in him once again. I was his willing whore every time he touched me and he knew it. He pushed my legs wide as he settled in between, the feeling of his body resting on mine sending shivers throughout my body.

More gentle kisses followed, our tongues engaged in a sensuous dance of desire. Then he descended, slowly moving down my body to my already pulsating sex. I looked down at his head between my legs. The exquisite touch of his lips on my sensitive skin soon became almost too much to bear. He found my already engorged clit. Pulling the fleshy hood back with his fingers, he used his stiffened tongue to rapidly bat it about. It drove me wild. “Oh Michael,” I softly cried, “I lov…” I never finished, grabbing the sheets when he sucked it in his mouth and used his teeth to pull at it before sucking it again—hard! It rendered me speechless. I had been going to say ‘I love you.’ In reflection I decided it was good I hadn’t…the timing was wrong. Now, as he continued to work his magic, I didn’t want to say anything to interrupt what he was doing. He was setting my sensitive nerves afire—my arousal only deepening as his fingers delved into my vagina, using them to fuck me as his tongue continued to tease my painfully erect clit. Soon he had me at the brink of orgasm…but then left me hanging; his fingers and lips suddenly gone. I whimpered—helpless, unable to cease the rise and fall of my hips, crazy for his touch. My lover raised to move atop me, his weight mostly settling on his elbows, his eyes locked with mine—mesmerizing me with his gaze—lust for my body bright in his eyes. I returned his stare with one equally caught up with carnal desire. This is what I craved…what I so needed from him. His cock felt so good when it touched my engorged and sensitive labia. I began moaning in anticipation as he barely pressed it against my opening—especially when he started making little thrusts: so like the first time we fucked. Now cradling my head in his hands, he began to push deeper inside, slowly as if he thought I needed to get used to his large cock-head. It was all so different from our usual wild, explosive sex. I lay under him, supine—languorous even—letting his wonderful phallus work my arousal ever higher; all the while mewling my approval. But I knew this unexpected lovemaking was just his preparation for the main event: my pleasure a bonus. Clearly he was thinking of what was to be different about tonight’s sex—for the first time in his life his cock would be buried deep in a woman’s rectum. And it was my ass—mine!—that he would use for his pleasure. I was thrilled my forbidden channel would be the one he used, the place that would receive his hot, salty essence.

It kept us on edge, the anticipation of his having me in a way he hadn’t any other woman…I liked it. I reached back to stay him when I was ready, then asked, “Still want to fuck my ass?” Eagerly he did as I requested: rolling onto his side to watch as I positioned pillows to prop myself up then, surprising him, reached for my Hitachi. Once I was on my stomach I glanced at the three mirrors of the bedrooms’ vanity: I was intent on seeing his reaction when his impossibly broad cock-head breached my sphincter—wanted a memory of the look on his face as I gave him that unique pleasure. “Eat me Michael,” I moaned, “get me ready for your big cock.” My voice was full of emotion. I was so ready for this. This man, not Walker, was who I wanted to spend my life with. I was going to make sure he’d want that to.

My body responded to his touch as his lips explored the roundness of my derrière, spending time kissing the dimpled indentations in my lower back. He pulled apart my round, fleshy cheeks to expose the sensual valley within and, using his tongue, lovingly toyed with my rosebud and perineum. I closed my mind to everything else as his tongue penetrated me, prepared me, focusing solely on the sensations he was creating. I gasped in pleasure as he dipped teasingly into my vulva, then buried his face in between my thighs, forcing his tongue deep into my vagina, lapping up my copious secretions. It made me squirm—ache with need for that unique cock. Then he changed position so the bulk of his weight rested on my thighs. It was time. Arching my hips slightly, I slipped the bulky mass of the vibrator so its large, battering ram head centered on my clitoris. When he inserted lube-laden fingers into my rectum I turned it on. By the time his cock-head replaced them I was more than ready for the pain of his entry—couldn’t wait to be ass-fucked by the man I loved so much.

It would have been wonderful had our union had lasted longer, but I knew it wouldn’t. With my help the broad head of that skinny cock breached my anal ring and made its way, in short successive thrusts into my rectum. It hurt a lot at first, even with lubrication, but I wanted it so badly I ignored the stinging pain until it went away. Then I encouraged him to fuck me harder. He leaned into me, causing his hanging balls to slap my buttocks at the end of each measured, powerful thrust. He only spoke once before he came, saying with a voice laden with wonder, “God Jade, I’ve never felt anything like this. Your ass is so tight, so warm.” I could only moan in response. I began gripping his cock each time he thrust, making the sensations he felt more intense. With my magic wand I magnified his every move, bringing us to orgasm at the same time; mine triggered as I felt his cum flood my anal canal. And because I craved his love I loudly cried his name during my release, letting him know he had used me well.

But I didn’t want it to end. As we lay panting, our senses still alive with the tingle of post-climactic satisfaction—his cock still buried in my ass—I began to move my hips with tiny rotations while gripping and releasing his still glass-hard member with my sphincter muscles. My lover groaned at the stimulation, his body still resting on his extended arms. I suspected he didn’t know what to make of my actions. Turning my head toward him I asked in my most sultry voice, “You don’t want it to end either, do you?” I gripped his cock—then held it trapped. I added, “Tell me you can give it to me some more.” Michael gave an incredulous gasp “Jesus, Jade, what are doing? It feels like you’ve got me in a vice.” I gloatingly replied, “Nobody’s ever done this to you, have they?” I reinforced the rhythm of my contractions, continued rotating my ass. It had kept him hard, but was he ready to use me again? I was intent on finding out. “I need more, Michael,” I pleaded, my butt eagerly moving up and down. I squeezed and held him again, trapping his cock in an intimate embrace, “This time give it to me hard and fast like you always do,” I begged. Even though I knew it would hurt a lot I wanted him to crave what only I could provide. My lover, fired by my words, didn’t disappoint. He was the old Michael again, pummeling my ass into submission for a long time, until my screams joined his grunts when he filled my ass once again.

In the aftermath, back in bed after cleaning up, I snuggled up to his naked body, lovingly running a hand through the thick hair on his chest. I felt so close to him…close in a way I hadn’t with Walker for such a long time. Then a thought popped unbidden into my head: Walker would have loved hearing about tonight. I could imagine his excitement as I told him how it felt as Michael took my ass. I sighed. That life—it had been so hot for both of us once—that was behind me now. Sadly, I could hardly remember the shared love we’d had for so long. Had and lost, I reminded myself—replaced by Michael. He was the man I now loved…and he wasn’t into that.

A surge of desire for him flooded me. I shifted my position on the bed so I was on my knees facing his recumbent form. Bending down I gave him a slow and sensual kiss, my long hair covering us, encasing us. It flowed behind me as I moved my head down his body, greedy to get his soft cock into the sanctuary of my mouth. He gasped as I insistently sucked him. Small involuntary spasms were added to his moans when I used my tongue and teeth to stimulate his cock back into the raging bull I loved. A quick intake of breath followed my saliva covered finger when it penetrated his sphincter. He spread his legs when I asked, making it easier for me when I found his prostate and began to fuck his ass in concert with taking his cock deep in my throat. He didn’t last long after that. I switched my gaze toward him as I licked errant bits of cum from my lips. “Ummm, thank you,” I said as I gave him a mischievous smile. “I was thirsty and knew you would want to give me a drink.” His look said it all. “God Jade,” he said, “you’re amazing.” When I straightened up I took a deep breath.

The time was now, I decided, hoping the residual wellbeing from the nights’ activities and that little demonstration of my skills would leave him open to considering my plan for us. Then I did it: told him how much I loved him—wanted him to live with me on the farm; of us pooling our resources to craft a new life together. I held my breath, waiting. He didn’t say anything for a long time. I snuggled closer, laying my head against his chest, draping one leg across his, hardly daring to hope he’d agree. Finally he spoke. “That’s a lot to think about.” He bent and kissed the top of my head, adding, “I’m whipped. Let’s talk about it later, OK?” I tilted my head up, intent on reading his emotional state. The dim light in the room prevented me from clearly seeing his face so I couldn’t gauge the intent behind his words. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t gotten a yes but he hadn’t rejected me either.

I gave him a goodnight kiss before we settled in for the night. I was too keyed up to sleep, constantly going over his response, wondering if I had successfully convinced him. Soon I heard his breathing change and knew he was asleep. “Goodnight Michael,” I whispered, then added, my voice filled with longing, “I love you!” With that I willed myself to join him in slumber.

[Chrislydi]

'Then a thought popped unbidden into my head: Walker would have loved hearing about tonight. I could imagine his excitement as I told him how it felt as Michael took my ass. I sighed. That life—it had been so hot for both of us once—that was behind me now. Sadly, I could hardly remember the shared love we’d had for so long. Had and lost, I reminded myself—replaced by Michael. He was the man I now loved…and he wasn’t into that.'

For all the inescapable and undeniable truth of the Jade's all encompassing and fiercely intoxicating love for Michael, for me it's this paragraph that adds that painful pinch of pathos, that twinge of sadness in the memory of that which once was. It's the contrast that hurts, a love for Walker that at one time seemed permanent now all but disappeared completely, and it twists the gut all the more because it's drowned out by the celebration of what's happening right now, the reality of her great love and hope for the future, the future she now hopes to share exclusively with Michael. Walker has now been completely replaced in her heart by Michael, Jade is now more than ever, totally devoted to her new God, her new one and only.

The extremely sensual and highly intimate and erotic love making had a different more meaningful buildup and tone. There was almost from the beginning a sense of occasion, a special moment in their shared journey, a moment in time in which it's important to enjoy each others bodies, to almost taste each others closeness, a much more considered and thought out emotional bonding rather than the purely visceral, and ending of course with the much anticipated and promised offering of Jade's rosebud for Michael to enjoy. It's this special gift, something he had yet to experience from any woman, which was meant not only to confirm her love for him, but also a shared experience which would unite them and add a permanence to their relationship and future together. BDJ brilliantly takes our hearts and minds with them, so that we too experience every stage and cycle of that elevated euphoria, their minds now bonding as they enjoy each others bodies, the excitement having an edge and meaning and the final offering of all of herself cementing that commitment.

And so you might expect any man who returns Jade's totally committed love and infatuation to rejoice after having been shown such undiluted generosity from a truly gorgeous, beautiful and devoted lover, but no Michael isn't perhaps that man after all, he's not responding that way at all, and yet again BDJ's words hammer that point home.

Doesn't this following paragraph underwhelm you with it's missing expressions of Michael's undying love and gratitude, and all this in the face of what Jade's shown and given him, her generosity and increasing ardour is met with, well nothing really, a 'let's think about it' response, and an 'I might reply later sometime if I think on' attitude. Michael hugely disappoints as Jade clings on to the last vestiges of hope and rationalises that at least it wasn't a rejection. It really starts the process of uncovering Michael's black heart for what it is, all is not good and all is not well at all.

So to quote the paragraph...

"Then I did it: told him how much I loved him—wanted him to live with me on the farm; of us pooling our resources to craft a new life together. I held my breath, waiting. He didn’t say anything for a long time. I snuggled closer, laying my head against his chest, draping one leg across his, hardly daring to hope he’d agree. Finally he spoke. “That’s a lot to think about.” He bent and kissed the top of my head, adding, “I’m whipped. Let’s talk about it later, OK?” I tilted my head up, intent on reading his emotional state. The dim light in the room prevented me from clearly seeing his face so I couldn’t gauge the intent behind his words. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t gotten a yes but he hadn’t rejected me either."

The relating of such troubled times must have been extremely difficult for BDJ with so much based on true events, but his writing has once again reached those exalted levels of perfection we've come to expect. Huge thanks must go to his wife for expressing exactly what Jade went through and all the stages and processes involved. I always say I can't wait for the next part, but the wait is always so well worthwhile when such a perfected product is delivered.

Chris

[Johng1953]

It becomes ever more obvious to me Michael isn't as emotionally invested in this relationship as Jade yet still she refuses to see it.
I hope though she doesn't go back to Walker just by default when she finally does realise the truth. Or when Michael ends it!

[BDJ]

Johng1953,

I've always held that you were good in unpacking this stuff. Precognitive is more like it.

BDJ

[Chrislydi]

Admittedly my wife Cath didn't read it until yesterday evening before we went out, but that not going back to the way they were in the event of reconciliation is what stood out for her too. She knows from experience that feelings and emotions aren't Ike a light switch, they don't immediately go from something dark to full strength love in a split second. If Michael goes Jade will be bitterly upset and very unhappy, but her feelings for Walker will not switch from alienation, annoyance and even hatred to something far more accepting overnight, even in the best scenarios of an eventually successful attempt at reconciliation they will be very bruised and battered, it could take months and even possibly years to recover any sort of normality.

Chris

[BDJ]

As much as I'd like to enlighten you Chris I'll let my tale of woe continue. Walker's role in her life now is over, and his big bossomed girlfriend is busy taking her place. A divorcee, she sees him as a good replacement as a husband and father for her daughter. But Walker can be so unobservant. He doesn't know yet.

BDJ

[BDJ]

This post is addressed to my two faithful commenters and all those others who have been keeping up with the story but have chosen not to express their views.

I’ve had an especially difficult time writing this next segment. It occurred. Not everything I’m chronicling is factual; though most did happen and are still a little painful to record. I’m trying to express the nuances of this period of our separation—I need to adequately express my wife’s state of mind and too, that of her boyfriend. It’s to prepare you for what follows.

Please don’t abandon the story. I thought I was finished until I began reading a Kenny Wright novel. I’m amazed at how well he expresses the feminine point of view: of a woman’s thoughts. I realized I wasn’t doing that very well. And Cath, Chris’s wife, is responsible too. She pointed out a glaring omission in my recounting of that time and I’ve been trying to interject it into the already written account.

Give me a few more days…it’s coming.

BDJ

[Asterix42]

This post is addressed to my two faithful commenters and all those others who have been keeping up with the story but have chosen not to express their views.

I’ve had an especially difficult time writing this next segment. It occurred. Not everything I’m chronicling is factual; though most did happen and are still a little painful to record. I’m trying to express the nuances of this period of our separation—I need to adequately express my wife’s state of mind and too, that of her boyfriend. It’s to prepare you for what follows.

Please don’t abandon the story. I thought I was finished until I began reading a Kenny Wright novel. I’m amazed at how well he expresses the feminine point of view: of a woman’s thoughts. I realized I wasn’t doing that very well. And Cath, Chris’s wife, is responsible too. She pointed out a glaring omission in my recounting of that time and I’ve been trying to interject it into the already written account.

Give me a few more days…it’s coming.

BDJ

Thanks BDJ. As one of the quiet followers I can say that I appreciate you sharing and waiting is no problem.

[Johng1953]

I certainly have no intention of abandoning your story and thank you for continuing it through the pain it obviously recalls.

[Chrislydi]

Similar to Johng1953 and Asterix42, never the slightest intention of not following, take your time and only post when you're satisfied, other priorities like real life always come first too.

Chris

[BDJ]

We overslept but still were able to get on the road soon enough to make it to our workshop on time. Our trip was mostly quiet since Michael slept most of the way, but even when he was awake there wasn’t the usual casual banter between us. I didn’t disturb him, assuming he was pondering the ramifications of taking our relationship where I wanted. He’d come around, I thought, he just needed to get used the idea of living with me full time. And moving in, leaving his little house, would be a big change for him and I respected that. A surge of affection for him welled up through my concerns. I decided not to force it, confident he’d decide soon enough.

That worry was forgotten as we got involved in our workshop. The event was really interesting and he seemed his old self by lunchtime. A major crafts show was opening the same weekend at the convention center and we’d decided we wanted to take that in too, so we planned to spend two nights in town in order to fit both events in. I had proposed we share expenses: I’d cover transportation and meals and he’d be in charge of lodging. I found out when we got there he’d arranged for us to sleep at his cousin’s house instead of staying at a hotel.

The complication to this arrangement was that he had convinced me to go bohemian in my dress. I hadn’t finished packing when I’d picked him up for his overnight stay at my house so he saw my clothes spread out in the bedroom. He began examining them, then asked to see the contents of my closet. I was surprised when he gently suggested I might look better in some clothes I hadn’t selected. I was relieved. I’d never been confident in choosing what to take on a trip; Walker had done that. A pang of regret struck me at that thought, monetarily casting a shadow on the moment. I quickly cast the thought aside, unwilling to entertain any thoughts of remorse. Walker was out of my life and I didn’t care for him anymore.

All that was forgotten when Michael pointed out how cool the tie-dyed bell bottoms would look on me. As he perused the rest of my wardrobe I discovered he had a good eye for fashion; choosing items that were really flattering—plus he said I looked sexy in them. And this weekend, above all the other times we had gone out together, I wanted that look. The clothes he chose were both artsy…and revealing. None of the blouses could be easily worn with a bra, and he said he’d prefer I didn’t. After a moment’s reflection I agreed, thinking it would add another layer of excitement to our weekend.

But now that he’d told me where we’d be sleeping I was concerned. If we had stayed in a hotel, the anonymity of it would have allowed me to wear revealing clothes without a problem—it’d be a turn-on for both of us. But around his extended family I thought my outfits would be way too risqué. When I expressed my concern he brushed it off, insisting my attire was fine. Just like a man, I thought, he wasn’t the one being embarrassed.

For the first day of the workshop he’d selected a deep v-necked pullover; long-sleeved and made of diaphanous muslin. Michael loved that my areola and nipples showed through the thin material, but I wasn’t willing to go that far, so over it I added a tight denim vest held together by a single leather bow. He liked that too; I think, because of the way the sides were cut. It left much of my blouse—and a lot of skin—exposed. My matching skirt was shorter than I normally wore but not by too much. Sandals with winding straps to above my ankles and some colorful bracelets completed my outfit. And to be honest, I kind of liked the looks I got at the workshop and during our evening out at a very swank restaurant. Michael had been especially attentive during the day and I could tell others saw us as a close, loving couple. That pleased me, giving me hope he was finally coming to me; accepting me as his new life partner.

I was feeling really good about us when we got to his cousin’s house.

Before we went in Michael blithely undid the bow holding my vest together. I balked, giving him a questioning look as I put myself back together. “No way Michael,” I declared as we stood facing off. “Jade,” he said, his voice showing a touch of exasperation, “Don’t worry about it. My cousin isn’t even here, just her husband.” I listened but still prevented his searching fingers from undoing me again. This put a whole new light on things. No female to be embarrassed around because I was showing it all, just another man. I thought through the implications of acquiescing. We’d had such a good day I didn’t want to ruin it, not over something like this. But I was afraid I’d be sending mixed signals to this stranger. That’s what I told him. He replied, reaching out and gently stroked my cheek; his look beseeching, “He’s married, frustrated with a wife that’s not interested anymore. Give him a thrill Jade…do it for me.” It was so unlike him; he’d never asked for anything like this. I sighed, letting my hand drop and shrugging my shoulders, somehow feeling he’d let me down. I didn’t protest when he pulled the bow loose and opened the sides of my vest. I couldn’t help reflecting as the cool night air washed over my suddenly exposed bosom: so like all men, thinking with their dicks. Walker had been the same way. I looked down at myself. The thin, almost transparent fabric clearly revealed my breasts, my prominent nipples and dark areola making it very apparent I was braless. I thought I looked like a slut. Then I wondered as we entered the house if this would be enough for him.

The man couldn’t keep his eyes off me and it made me uncomfortable. But Michael didn’t seem to notice when he introduced me as his girlfriend. I smiled at that. Yes, I said to myself, I was—and I intended to stay that way. I looked at this stranger. He was small; about halfway between my five-three and Michael’s five-eight in height—and plump, with a well defined beergut. The more he hungrily looked at my tits the more I disliked him. But Michael was ebullient, seeming proud to show me off. He even acted a little cocky, treating me as if we were alone; giving me the occasional kiss, his hand idly caressing my fanny as we stood talking together. I let it wash over me, resigned to being put on display.

It was only after we were in bed that I questioned him, saying accusingly, “Did you see him ogling my chest?” His reply should have startled me, but now, after his recent actions, didn’t. “Yeah. He definitely liked what he saw,” he answered laughingly, then pulled me close for a long kiss before continuing, “I’ll bet you gave him a stiffy.” My boyfriend put my hand on his cock. “I’m getting one now just thinking about it.” That surprised me. It was an aspect of his character I had never seen, one so like my husband. I shook my head to eradicate the thought. Dammit, I thought to myself, Michael’s not Walker.

My lover pulled me to him and started to get frisky; tugging at the hem of my sleep shirt, trying to get it off. I resisted, uneasy at knowing where it would lead. He pulled off his tighty-whities, then tickled me. Taking advantage of my helplessness as I tried not to laugh, he wrestled with my top until he had it off. I protested going further, citing the noise I’d make; that I’d be embarrassed when I saw Sid in the morning. But Michael was not to be denied his fun. Soon he had my panties off and his fingers began doing unspeakably wonderful things to my rapidly growing clitoris. He was relentless, whispering how much hotter it would be doing it in a strange bed. I had to admit it was naughty—and I never could say no to Michael—so I stopped resisting. Taking that as a green light he manhandled me until I was on my back, legs apart. He knelt over me, his cock hard and ready. Seeing him like that made me melt completely, any misgivings of us screwing now forgotten.

My eyes remained focused on his cock. No matter how many times I saw it poised above me I felt the same…I wanted it, couldn’t wait to feel it inside my pussy. My lover owned me then in a way Walker never had. It was if a force drew us together, like we weren’t complete until that hard spear was buried all the way inside. I felt that now as he grabbed my ankles and placed them over his shoulders, then gripped me by the waist and moved me into position until his wide mushroom head had been forced past my labia. The look on his face as he did it thrilled me, all my doubts forgotten. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

Then that first powerful thrust, slamming into me, completing me. He loved doing that…loved driving his stiff tool inside all at once. Short, violent pistoning came next. Soon he was breathing hard with the work of it. Michael was in his element, roughly taking what was his. Early on I had learned to love this type of sex, had come to need it over the gentle, considerate lovemaking that had defined my life with Walker.

Damn Walker, I suddenly thought. Damn him for wanting me to do this. Damn him for me loving it so much.

My own breath was ragged now, his relentless plummeting accelerating me toward climax. His dominance of my body really was an aphrodisiac—it had become an obsessive need long ago. The continual assault on my pussy was taking me ever higher, propelled by the ceaseless stimulation of his uniquely shaped manhood: electric shocks of desire threatened to overwhelm me. I started to orgasm, to ride that wave of total abandon—then he withdrew. I whimpered at the sudden emptiness in my pussy. “Michael,” I cried, “put in back!”

I grunted loudly as he manhandled me so my round ass was facing him. He roughly forced my head down on the pillow before giving a mighty thrust into my dripping pussy. I cried out my relief. I was complete once again; his wanton and willing cunt. Then he was power-fucking me, harder; intent on getting himself off. I felt liquid hit my sphincter, then his thumb forcing its way inside. The discomfort only increased the pleasure his cock was causing.

Then a thought came to me: was he intent on screwing me so hard because of the memory of undoing my vest—of deliberately exposing my boobs to his cousins’ gaze? Was he that much like Walker? My logical self spun out of control with conflicting thoughts; joyful my lover was taking me to a personal nirvana while simultaneously regretting that the man I had given up couldn’t do it.

I didn’t like thinking that…so I threw it back at Michael.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” I said, my voice taunting, “liked Sid ogling me, liked him looking at my hard nipples.” He slapped my ass…hard! “Yeah, I liked it,” he replied, then slapped me again, his voice accusing, “You liked it too!” The pain from his hand just amped up my arousal. “You’re a slut,” he continued. I was almost there. Another sharp pain reverberated through my body as he did it once more. “Say it,” he demanded. “What are you?” I couldn’t take it any more. I wanted him—his cock—his love. My cry barely cut through the sound of a final slap, “I’m…a slut!” That was all he needed. I felt it, the hotness of his cum flooding my womb, completing our union—I screamed out my orgasm.

I was worn out but satisfied when Michael collapsed beside me: the deed done well in his mind. My exhausted brain could hardy think; all I wanted to do was sleep. I couldn’t remember Michael ever fucking me this hard. He’d been a demon; possessed with need in a way I had never seen. My lethargic mind hoped he’d do it again—wanted a life with this in it. Then that little pang of doubt flitted across my muddled brain, worrisome in its persistence. I forced it away with thoughts of love…for Michael. It was enough, and sleep was beginning to take me when I felt an insistent nudge. “Jade,” I heard him say, “go clean up. I’m not going to sleep on a wet spot.” I looked at him and lazily smiled. “You made it,” I replied, “you ought to clean it up.” “Not my thing,” he testily replied. Walker would have, I thought in reply, then my mind rebelled at the comparison. He pushed at my butt with his foot. “Move,” he said, irritated now. I heaved myself up and began down the hall to the houses’ single bathroom. Cum was beginning to run down my leg but I didn’t care. As I passed the master bedrooms' open door I heard a sharp intake of breath. Glancing inside I saw Sid in bed, looking at me. I snapped alert, automatically trying to cover myself, then hurried back to our bedroom. I looked over at the now sleepy man who had given me this pussy full of cum, thinking he’d get turned on again if I told him Sid had seen me. For some reason I decided not to do it.

The next day, at Michael’s insistence, I wore an off-the-shoulder crop top with an elastic neckline, bits of my dark areole and nipples occasionally showing through the floral lace, creating an exotic peek-a-boo effect. He pulled the top down low, almost exposing the tops of my breasts. I sighed, resigned to him having his way, not wanting to start the day with us at odds. Even with the top of the blouse so low its bottom still didn’t completely cover my tummy, my breasts making it hang enticingly above my low slung tie-dyed bell bottoms. My long hair was held back with a wide, colorful scarf. Michael liked my outfit a lot and was very affectionate, kissing me and slipping his hand under my top to caress my breasts. It would have led to morning sex had there been time. The wrap-up class was spent looking over everyone’s photos from the day before and the workshop ended at lunch; the afternoon a leisurely stroll through the hundred or so exhibits at the convention center. I was a little envious, there were some seriously good artists showing their work. I wondered at the competition some of them might pose for me in the future.

That evening we ate at a very nice French restaurant. Wine flowed and we got a little tipsy, so much so that driving back to the house was a challenge. Like the evening before Sid’s hungry eyes ate me up—I could even feel them on my ass as we made our way to the living room. Once there, Michael and I sat together on the sofa; Sid in a recliner opposite. I drank more wine: the guys preferring beer. After about an hour of idle chit-chat I think all of us were feeling the effects of too much alcohol. With a muddled mind I compared my two lives; former and present. I’d never gotten like this when I was with Walker—early on in our relationship we’d decided drinking to excess wasn’t for us. I wondered if Michael would drink like this once we were living together.

Then events took an unexpected turn. I was getting a little horny, enjoying the closeness of my lover as his hand idly caressed my inner thigh, ready to suggest we go to bed when he suddenly announced, “She’s really hot, isn’t she Sid? You’d never guess how old she is.” I sat upright, alert now, frowning. I didn’t like that remark about my age. But Michael wasn’t finished. Casually grabbing my blouse with both hands, he pulled it down to my waist. “Look at that those tits!” he said as he cupped one of my breasts, showing it off. I looked down stupidly, unable to immediately process what had just happened. What had been a lighthearted evening had suddenly turned sexual…with me at its center. I looked over at Michael, then at Sid, trying to ascertain this new dynamic between us. My boyfriend appeared pleased at what he’d done. The little man across from me looked as if he’d never seen a woman’s boobs before. Apparently Michael wanted this, so I decided to just go with the flow; to let my chest remain on display. I didn’t like it but I loved this man, so if he wanted to show me off…well, I could live with that.

What happened next startled me and changed everything. Michael got up and invited Sid to take his place. There was a distinctly predatory look on the other man’s face as he settled beside me. Without asking, Sid reached out and began to play with my breasts. I looked at Michael, flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events. Then my new seatmate began to suck and bite at my nipples. Michael just watched. I looked back at him, perplexed as I pushed Sid away. “Michael, what’s going on,” I replied. “Why are you doing this?” He gave me a look I’d seldom seen, and never towards me—irritation. “You know what to do,” he replied. Sid took that as a signal to force his hand into the waistband of my bellbottoms, eager to get at my pussy.

Hot anger shot through me—a burning resentment flaring high with an intensity that surprised me, making me question everything I knew about my lover. I jerked Sid’s hand free but was prevented from slapping the little shit when Michael intervened. “Jade, why don’t you properly thank Sid for letting us stay with him,” he said, reaching down to stroke my cheek. I glared at him. His return stare was now anxious, almost expectant. My fury slowly dissipated, leaving me sad. I decided I would not deny my lover. Slumping forward I reached to unzip the repulsive little man's pants.

I had to stifle a laugh when I opened them and exposed his hard penis. It couldn’t have been more than four inches long, with a girth that didn’t inspire confidence either. Glancing up at Michael I found myself looking at his decidedly hard cock, already out of his pants. He had it in his hand and was staring intently at me with a look of anticipation. So this was to be our game. Making sure my hair didn’t obscure his view I prepared to take Sid’s cock in my mouth. I heard him say, “Sarah never does this.” Then, putting his hand on my already bending head as if to hurry me up, said, “You’re going to swallow, right?” Michael answered for me, “She always swallows.”

That persistent pang of doubt emerged again for a brief instant into my consciousness. I paused my descent toward that minuscule piece of manhood and looked at my boyfriend, still confused at his uncharacteristic behavior. His return stare didn’t reassure me. Sighing, I resigned myself to act as Michael’s whore. If this was what my lover wanted, I thought, then I felt obligated to put my best effort into it. First I used my tongue to tease the tip, I then created a suction, slowly pulling off his hard shaft until only the head remained inside my mouth. He moaned as I took his balls in my hand. I gently squeezed, causing him to gasp. Looking up I was met with a look that was a combination of fear and lust. A thought came to me then that I could hurt him. Pondering it I continued to knead his scrotum, pulling it down until it was tightly stretched, his testicles firmly in my grip. I returned my mouth to his minuscule column of flesh, licking and caressing the shaft with my tongue. Little nips from my teeth drew moans of pleasure from him. Then I realized I liked doing this. I couldn’t believe it, I was getting aroused! That was interesting, I thought, that the feel of his tiny penis—it barely qualified as a cock to me—could do that. I released the pressure on his cum-laden balls.

Sid was panting loudly through all this, his body rigid. I decided to finish him—to suck so hard he’d cum. Using both lips and tongue, I rapidly moved up and down as my vacuuming mouth did its work. It only took another minute. Suddenly he pushed my head down…down until my lips were mashed into the tangled mess of his pubic hair. I felt his hips rhythmically, insistently thrusting—I was trapped—then the saltiness of his ejaculate filled my mouth, threatening to overwhelm me. I swallowed as best I could, hated doing that for anyone but Michael—but still did it—breathing through my nose while he kept me in his grip through the remainder of his orgasm. Eventually he released me and I lifted off his now tiny mound of flesh. I looked around and found Michael close beside me, the large bulbous head of his cock mere inches from my face. I thought he wanted the same so I reached for his cock, but he stepped back. “No,” he said, “in the bedroom.” As he pulled me with him he looked over his shoulder at Sid and said, “You too, man.”