by Andrea Wolfe
"I don't get why it's so hot, though." I was saying one thing and thinking another. Jack was physically touching me, but he wasn't touching me like that—and it was really making me want to touch myself. Had he hypnotized me somehow? Given the circumstances and the direction of the conversation, it almost seemed reasonable.
"They did a survey," Jack said proudly. "Of what people look at when they're watching porn. What do you think most guys looked at?"
His question instantly lightened my mood, my tension rapidly evaporating. "Well, boobs, obviously. Probably asses too." I felt pretty confident about my guess.
"Wrong!" Jack shouted. "The majority of the men watched the woman's eyes and face."
"You're such a liar!" I shoved him playfully—after verifying that he wasn't holding his drink.
"I'm not kidding!" he said. "It was a real study. Guess what the women looked at?"
"Are you just trying to humiliate us girls?" I asked. "Did they look at legs? Pecs? Biceps? Faces?"
Jack gave me a wry smile. "They looked at penises. No joke."
"Was this a real study?" I asked, my voice full of bemusement. "Did you make this up?"
Jack started laughing. "I couldn't be more serious. It just proves my point. It is hot when a real girl—not some plastic porn star who’s pretending—touches herself."
I still wasn't sure how this all fit together other than vaguely. "I'm still not totally with you."
"Watching a girl pleasure herself is best when you watch her face. You see that expression, that feeling that's all hers, all inside her head. A woman says so much with her face. The other stuff is nice too, but the face is the best part."
I was starting to understand his point. God, imagining Jack's hand pumping up and down on his cock made me want to melt though. Those lean muscles he would use as he did it, and yeah, that look on his face as he went faster and faster. It almost made me sweat.
"Will you do it for me, Effie?" The words flowed effortlessly from his lips, no hang-ups or indecision present at all.
"Do what?" I thought I knew what he meant, but I still played dumb.
"I want you to make yourself come for me. I want to watch." His breathing deepened quickly, as if speaking the words had been enough to light him on fire.
"Right now?" I looked around as if I was searching for intruders. "Up here? What about the pilot?"
"He's not coming back. I'll get naked too." All it took was him unbuttoning his shirt to sway me to his side. Jesus, his chiseled chest and muscles made my insides turn to hot liquid. Being without him for a few days had really done a number on me in terms of self-control.
His pants crumpled on the floor, his boxers did literally nothing to conceal his full arousal. It was so hard and firm, and yet I was still fully dressed. Yeah, all he could see was the look on my face...
I unzipped the back of my dress and stood up, pulling it off at once. Instantly, I was left with nothing but my matching blue bra and panties. Jack's eyes hungrily traced along the soft curves of my body, memorizing what he saw.
Before we went any further, he met me with a deep kiss, one that jumbled my insides up even worse. My tongue fought his as he wrapped his arms around my back, fitting my body to his, encouraging me back onto the couch. He explored every interior surface of my mouth—and I explored his.
Again in a sitting position, he began to unclasp my bra, but stopped at first, running his tongue along my cleavage, tasting and tickling. He finishing unclasping and then took my breasts in his hands, one by one, molding them perfectly into his grip. Jack tweaked each nipple, pinching slightly, but stopping right before it became painful. I continued kissing him, filled with desperate need.
My surprising arousal was snowballing out of control and I desperately needed something to happen. Jack slid his fingers under the elastic waistband and then dragged my panties slowly down my legs, taking his sweet time and driving me mad. Honestly, I was so worked up and I just had no idea where this was leading.
Was he about to fuck me? What about the whole pleasuring myself for him?
Christ, if he kept working me up like this, I was going to have a hard time saying no to anything.
"Spread your legs, Effie. I want to see that beautiful pussy of yours."
"I thought you said f-f-faces," I whispered, fighting back a smile.
"All of you is beautiful—and I want to see everything." Fine, Jack, you win.
I moved apprehensively, but it was still movement. His fingers crawled along the soft flesh of my inner thighs and approached my mound, so painfully close to my swollen clit.
They reached it right away, and my body reacted, tightening around his fingers. My mind was swimming in vivid images of sex, my eyes locked with Jack's.
His movement was gentle, however, almost indirect. He was just teasing me, warming me up so that I'd have to do it for him whenever he decided to stop—and I knew I'd never be able to say no after he got me started. No, you couldn't just stop an avalanche once it began.
The movements of my heaving chest grew more and more exaggerated as my breath fled as quickly as it arrived. His fingers gently plunged into my wetness, parting my lips and setting me on fire. He was going so easy, playing a game that was driving me wild. I couldn't believe I was doing this, whatever it was.
The weird thing was that Jack could make me come damn near instantly, and here he was, carrying out some sort of sadistic slow burn in the middle of the sky. I was feeling both strung-out and incredible, my mind as far away from my troubles as possible.
"Touch yourself for me now, Effie. Make yourself come." His voice had grown huskier, and it caromed inside my head.
Damn you, Jack.
"Okay," I mumbled softly. Noticing that his boxers were gone—having a hot naked person around when you're also naked is helpful—gave me a small glimmer of hope.
He gently took my hand in his own, slowly switching their places as he relinquished control and led my fingers as they pressed against that sensitive flesh. I closed my eyes and started slowly at first, trying to remember what I did when I was all alone in my bed. Even though it normally came so naturally, the situation was so foreign that I wasn't entirely sure what to do.
"I want you to spread your legs wide for me, Effie," Jack said. "I want to watch everything. Will you do that?"
"Yes," I whispered. I spoke before really realizing what he had asked.
He seemed to catch himself, worried that he may have crossed a line. "If it's too much, you don't have to. I'm... sorry." It was that reassurance that seemed to make me even more willing to go the distance.
"No, I want to. Really." While I wasn't lying, I also wasn't sure just how much of the truth I was actually telling. Something beyond rational thought was controlling my body. Raging lust, I guess.
I did what he requested, spreading my legs until I knew he could see everything. After briefly opening my eyes and peeking at him, I started to get nervous again. He was in front of me, and I stared at his cock throbbing between his legs. I had never seen a hungrier look on his face. It was killing me.
I closed my eyes again and circled my fingers against my clit, trying my damndest to bring something out of myself for Jack. Everything seemed to be so intuitive and raw, yet I seemed to be struggling.
"Relax, Effie. I don't think you realize how fucking beautiful you are. And how lucky I am."
God, his words were like beautiful music. I felt sexy, exposed, feminine, beautiful, owned. I was on display for him, totally compromised and trusting. I kept touching, feeling, exploring my tender flesh, trying to give him what he wanted. I was willingly cooperating but struggling to put out my own internal fires of indecision.
"Have you used a vibrator?" Jack asked suddenly.
"No," I said, temporarily distracted from my efforts. My opened eyes brought me back to the room.
"Close your eyes," he said. He slid his body next to mine on the couch.
I heard a quiet buzzing sound, and then his arm re
ached across my belly. When it touched my clit, my whole body tingled at once, the pleasurable surprise nearly knocking the wind out of me. He was holding it there against me, sending me into a pleasurable frenzy.
"You take it now. It's all yours."
I brought my hand over his and gratefully took the vibrator, keeping it in place the best I could. I felt his body move away from mine, presumably so he could get a better view from the front.
The feeling was really something else. That bundle of nerves was twitching so quickly, the sensation so rapid and direct. In that moment, it made total sense why women used these damn things.
"Oh, God," I moaned, unable to contain myself. This was so raw. The directness of it stripped away my insecurities since my mind was excessively distracted by stimuli.
"Fuck, Effie," I heard Jack moan. "You are so fucking hot."
I was feeling and imagining so much, my body contorting as pleasure swept through me. I was battling to keep my legs spread as my back arched and flexed. Lush gasps escaped freely from my lips, the most vocal I had ever been whilst doing something like this. Suddenly, I wasn't afraid to hold anything back, wasn't afraid to give everything to Jack.
I slid a finger into my tightness, probing and pressing to complement what was already going on. My hips rocked back and forth as I imagined Jack's thrusts, the most sensible thing I could imagine given what was going on. Even though he wasn't physically involved at this point, I was still totally content.
I was so close to coming, so quickly manipulated by this newfound device. Jack was groaning loudly as well; I opened my eyes to see his hand rapidly sliding up and down on his shaft, watching me like a hawk.
Our eyes met and he saw as deeply into me as I saw into him. Unsatisfied with his position, he climbed back onto the couch and wrapped his arm around me, still maintaining a steady stroking motion. His support intact, my body went limp against his warm skin.
He was watching me while he did that, watching my pleasure and translating it into his own. "Jack, I'm gonna come," I gasped.
"Watch me as you do it."
Lying hard against the couch, I turned my head and stared into his eyes, our faces only a foot or so apart. He was pumping frenetically down below, the carnal image something I only caught in my peripheral vision.
"Oh, Jack!" I cried out, pleasure spilling through me like a dam breaking. I shivered and twitched against him, my heart almost popping right out of my chest. I kept watching his eyes, and it was torment, sweet, sweet torment. They were possessed with something not unlike predatory resolve.
He started groaning too, a primal, uninhibited sound that I wasn't entirely familiar with. This was different, even though it was indeed purely sexual. When we were fucking, his sounds were like something else, something in another language compared to this.
I felt a spurt of his seed as it struck my belly, his arm flexed and tight as he kept going. His expression said nothing but you're all mine. I was so wrapped up in my own climax that I didn't feel the rest of his finale.
My clit suddenly overwhelmed, I pressed the button on the vibrator and tossed it aside. I felt something like physical desperation—and Jack felt it too.
He took me in his arms and hugged me tightly, our bodies contorting together. We were both breathing deeply and his breaths were only interrupted as he peppered my cheeks with light kisses.
"Effie, that was so hot, so perfect. You're so fucking perfect. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." The words came out as one long stream.
Hearing him say that made me feel more than elated. I felt like I was on cloud nine, like I had won a lifetime achievement award and thousands of people were applauding me. He had pushed my boundaries and ensured that I felt good about it no matter what. It felt like progress.
"Dammit, Jack." I was starting to feel choked up. I had never been assaulted with so many compliments in my life, especially not when my guard was so lowered. He had free reign to do anything he liked with me, and I couldn't do a thing about it. "I missed you so much," I said, sadness in my voice.
What else could I do when he was making me feel so good about myself, so good about us?
Nothing felt wrong about saying it. There were no tinges of feeling vulnerable or clingy or too attached. I knew it was the right thing to say and both my body and mind lauded my choice.
"I missed you too." He kissed me again and lightly stroked my hair from my scalp all the way to my shoulder, taking me in yet again
The sunbeams were flooding through the windows and settling on our fully exposed bodies. Even though I had been tense only a short while before, I was more relaxed than I had ever been in my life. I had to fight the urge to cry, to wail like a baby because I felt like somehow I had made a mistake.
"Why did I—" I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought to maintain my composure.
"Shh," Jack said. "Just let it go for now."
It was tough, but with him there, I did let it go.
Chapter 14
We stayed cuddled on the couch for probably another hour, the flight halfway through by the time we were appropriately dressed again. Prior to our shared moment, I wanted him to make love to me worse than anything. Now, I was satiated in a way that seemed to transcend my normal urges and compulsions.
It wasn't that I was overly sexual—it was that Jack brought something like that out of me, like he planted a seed in the most fertile ground possible.
I felt satisfied and safe, like I belonged to him as much as he belonged to me. Fact of the matter was, prior to boarding that plane, the biggest thing on my mind was how to deal with the Sam situation, to restructure the muddled pieces of my life. Right now, there was no debate whatsoever, no considerations taking place.
It wasn't that I didn't think about it—it just had no place here.
This was a protected, sacred place, at least for now.
Jack had gotten up and was rummaging in the refrigerator. "Do you want another drink? A snack?"
"What is there?" I asked. "And yes, another gin and tonic, please."
He opened the door wide and showed me—a couple of bottles of beer, and a container of hummus. "That's it, I guess."
"Are you calling beer a snack? That's a first, isn't it?"
"Well, it's got carbs and calories. Why can't it be a snack?" He lifted a bottle and slowly eyed the label. "They don't put any info on there so you won't feel guilty and stop drinking 'em."
"Nobody wants to feel guilty when they're getting drunk. Is there something to dip in the hummus?"
Jack opened a small cupboard, revealing another empty space, except for one thing: "Pita bread. It matches." He gave me a thumbs up.
Success.
My stomach grumbled, but obviously not loudly enough that he could hear it from his position. I'd have to use words to communicate. "Okay, I'm sold. Bring me food, please."
"Right away!"
He tossed the pitas and the hummus onto the couch beside me. "What the hell?" I yelled. "I'm not going to catch food."
"It's not even opened. You're safe. Plus, it's my furniture, and if I want to dump hummus all over it, I will dump hummus all over it."
I fiddled with the twist-tie on the pita bread. "I can't argue with that."
We sipped and ate, laughing constantly during the final moments of the flight. I felt so relaxed, so renewed. Our time together—and this vacation as a whole—was proving to be incredibly useful to my emotional state. I wasn't worrying, wasn't panicking about a damn thing.
"So what are doing here?" I asked. I was mid-bite on an abnormally large piece of pita, chomping until it became something I could actually swallow.
"Some business bullshit. I can take you along for almost everything, though. Maybe a cool party or something too." He had a look on his face that seemed to scream I have a secret. His subsequent quick grab for more pita to occupy his mouth seemed to suggest he was trying to hide a smile.
"Is there something else?" I asked curiously. I swallowed
my gargantuan bite and then paused before grabbing more.
"It's a secret," he said promptly. "That means I can't tell you."
"Jack! Why'd you have to tell me at all then?" Knowing that something was coming would only make it worse since I didn't know what it was.
"My lips are sealed. You'll just have to wait."
I shook my head and laughed. Why the hell did I care so much, anyway? "Fine. I guess it'll be more fun that way, huh?"
"Last time I checked, that's how surprises work." He scooted toward me and gave me a hug, entirely impeding my ability to eat. "You'll really like it, I promise."
I rested my head against his chest. I thought of things I wanted to say but realized I probably shouldn't say them. Infatuation was back with a vengeance only like a bee sting this time—and my hand was still deep inside the nest.
***
Not long after that, we were strapped in and landing, pulling into a smaller runway for private planes at LAX. I couldn't believe how incredible the huge, sprawling city looked from the sky. It was breathtaking, especially with slowly setting sun.
We also managed to do the whole time-travel thing due to the time difference. This time, we won, but on the flight back, we'd lose.
"We're going to go to the hotel before dinner, okay?" Jack sat up and reached toward his suitcase. He missed, but his phone buzzed after re-gaining a signal and so he didn't try again immediately.
I nodded. I was thrilled to be here and willing to do almost anything. "Where are we staying?"
'The Hollywood Roosevelt," he said casually, his fingers tapping a text into his phone.
"Are you kidding? Seriously?" The hotel had such a huge history when it came to pop culture and celebrities.
He laughed at me. "I get a discount when I stay there. That's the primary reason why I do. They feature it all the time on those bullshit celebrity news sites as if a celebrity sighting is newsworthy." Jack put his phone into his pocket. "Any famous or successful person is good enough for them."
"If that's all you write about, then I guess it is newsworthy. Does that make me famous by association then?" I asked, my eyes gleaming.