“Get busy painting. Remember, don’t focus on me, keep painting until I cum, and stay quiet,” he demanded as he began to stroke his cock.
I bent over and picked up a brush and the palette. I desperately wanted Jak to fuck me. Now sitting cross legged on the floor beside the computer, Jak began to work his clenched fist up and down the shaft of his massive cock. I glanced at the screen of the computer, studied the photo of my face, and watched as Jak slowly stroked himself. After becoming slightly more uncomfortably aroused, I began to paint.
As I painted my depiction of the photo on the screen, Jak began to tease me. He stood from the floor, walked to my side, and continued working his hand against his cock. It took every bit of reservation I could gather to focus on the screen and not glance at Jak as he masturbated. Eventually, he sat on the floor beside the laptop and sighed heavily.
“You know Karter, I could stroke this big cock of mine all day. I’ve got seventeen years of practice. But there’s something about looking at you that makes me horny as absolute fuck,” he leaned forward and positioned his face a matter of inches from my thighs.
I’d had never heard Jak say fuck that I could recall. Seeing him like this was a huge turn on. I lifted my left foot and spread my feet shoulder width apart in hopes of something. Jak’s face now inches from my crotch, he looked upward, “It could be the fact your pussy is dripping down your leg. Are you horny, Karter? Do you want me to fuck you?”
Christ on a cracker, Jak. Fuck me already.
I nodded my head and considered responding, but knew Jak would be upset if I did. I opted to simply nod my head. He raised his chin slightly and licked the length of my pussy as he continued to stroke himself. My knees weakened and I struggled to remain standing. As his tongue touched me again, it stopped along my clit. Softly, he began to suck my swollen nub. I closed my eyes and mentally begged for him to fuck me. As my body began to tingle, I opened my eyes. Squatted at my feet with his eyes closed, Jak worked feverously on his cock as his tongue tortured my pussy.
Please Jak, I’m dying.
I shifted my gaze to the easel. I slopped paint from the palette to the canvas like a mad woman. In the confusion of him stroking his cock and sucking my clit, I’d forgotten our plan. If I could finish painting, we were going to start fucking. Like a woman possessed, I smeared paint on the canvas. Slowly, the painting began to come together. As I continued to attempt to focus on my work, my pussy ached and my spine tingled. I fought against each and every orgasm as they heightened. Eventually, Jak began to moan.
Please, Jak.
Don’t…
Moan.
“I think I’m ready to fuck you, Karter,” he groaned.
“I’m going to cum so we can get busy fucking,” he breathed.
I closed my eyes. His breathing became choppy and labored. I opened my eyes and looked down. I no more than caught a glimpse of Jak’s swollen cock, and he opened his eyes and began to slowly stand. Immediately, I looked up and tried to study the canvas.
Please, Jak…
“Get on your knees, Karter,” he bellowed.
Thank you.
With the palette still in my hand, I dropped to my knees like a female Tim Tebow preparing for a prayer. My ass hit the backs of my ankles and I opened my mouth. As I felt his cock against my lips, I began to moan. As his swollen shaft slid in and out of my watering mouth, I pressed my tongue against the bottom of his cock. After several strokes, he began to press the tip against my back of my throat. If the possibility existed to die from the anticipation of sex alone, I was mere seconds from the grave. As I felt his cock swell in my throat, I prayed for him to cum in my mouth and regain the strength to fuck me senseless. As Jak began to groan, I moaned against his cock. As his warm cum filled my mouth and throat, I mentally exhaled, knowing what was next. I felt his hands against my armpits and I attempted to stand. As my legs shook from emotional exhaustion, he lifted me to my feet.
He removed the palette and brush from my hand and placed them on the table beside the easel. As he leaned toward me, I closed my eyes in anticipation of a certain kiss. Our lips met, and my knees went weak again. As he held the weight of my body from collapsing on the floor, he kissed my lips with a passion I had never known. My head began to spin in circles. He hadn’t even begun to fuck me and I was done. I closed my eyes and remembered his earlier instructions. I’m going to fuck you until one of us either cums, gives up, or collapses. This was a contest I had no business being entered in. I was way out of my league with Jak.
As he pulled his lips from mine, he studied my face. Full of desire and lustful thoughts, I stared into his eyes. I loved Jak with every ounce of my existence. After experiencing a life with Jak, attempting for one moment to live without him would be impossible. In Jak’s presence, every individual fault I believed existed within me forged together, allowing me to become a strong capable woman. Jak was the answer to a lifetime of me questioning my very own existence.
I felt his wet fingertips glide across my stomach. I blinked my eyes and looked down. His hands covered in the paint from my palette, I watched as he smeared a colorful array of oil onto my skin. He grinned as he raised the paint covered board to my chest. He nodded his head and tilted it slightly. I reluctantly reached for the paint, fully expecting to be reprimanded. He smiled as I pressed my fingers into the reds, blues, and yellow. I rubbed the paint onto my free hand and smiled. Without speaking, I pressed my stomach to his and reached behind him. With both hands, I squeezed his muscular ass in my fingers and wiped the paint against his tight skin. As I held his butt firm in my grip, he began to kiss me again.
As my mind became lost in the kiss, my pussy reminded me of the deprivation and torture it had witnessed for the last hour. My entire body began to tingle. I needed Jak inside of me desperately. I released his right butt cheek and slid my hand to his crotch. As I blindly fumbled to find his cock, he pulled his hips from me slightly. I gripped the half stiff shaft into my hand and squeezed as I bit his lower lip.
You’re going to fuck me, Jak. And you’re going to fuck me now.
I released his lip from my teeth and lowered myself to my knees. As I took his paint covered cock into my mouth the bitter taste of the paint heightened my already overly aroused state. As I worked the shaft into my mouth, I squeezed his ass in my hands. Slowly and methodically, I worked my mouth back and forth as he groaned. The louder he groaned, the more aggressive I became. The further I forced him into my throat, the louder he moaned. As his paint covered hands gripped the sides of my head, he attempted to lift me to my feet.
I buried his now rigid cock deep in my throat, I growled. He moaned as he squeezed my head in his hands and lifted half-heartedly on my jaw. He wanted me to consider stopping, but he loved it when I sucked his cock. I slid my mouth to the rim of the head and flicked my tongue against the tip. I opened my eyes and gazed at the floor. After finding the palette, I reached for my brush and gripped it tightly in my hand. I forced my mouth along the shaft until he was buried in my throat. As I held my mouth against his throbbing nine inches, I raised the brush to his balls and began to tickle the bottom of his scrotum. His legs immediately quivered.
You like that, Jak?
Fuck me you sexy beast.
I attempted to bury his cock deeper in my throat and ran the soft bristles from his balls up and along the crack of his ass. Back and forth the brush slowly stroked as I began to work my mouth along his swollen and slobber covered cock. I slid my mouth from the tip of his cock and wrapped my wet lips around his paint covered balls and began to suck lightly. As I softly began to lose myself in working my tongue against his cleanly shaven scrotum, his hands formed tightly around my neck.
“Time to change it up,” he growled.
Against my will and better judgment, he lifted me to my feet. Ultimately, he was going to give me what I wanted – or at least I hoped he was. As I stood and attempted to focus in somewhat of a sexually deprived trance, he lifted me from my feet and
began walking across the floor of the apartment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes. As he came to a stop, I opened my eyes. We were in the bathroom. My mind began to run through the possible scenarios.
Bath?
Shower?
Get cleaned up and then start fucking?
He lowered me to the floor and reached into the shower and turned on the water. He motioned toward the enclosure with his hand, “Get in.”
I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes as the warm water beat against my hypersensitive body. I opened my eyes as I felt Jak climb in behind me. Without speaking, he reached for my body wash and squeezed it onto my loofah. As I felt the sponge against my skin and inhaled a hint of the floral scent, I closed my eyes. I shivered as the soap filled sponge pressed against my breasts and slid down my torso and between my legs. As his hand pressed into my inner thighs, I felt his cock against the back of my butt cheek. I opened my eyes and pressed my hands against the inner shower wall as I arched my back and lifted myself on my tip-toes.
I want it, Jak.
I need…
I bit my lower lip as his cock pressed into me. His hands slid along my wet soapy body as his hips began to slap against my ass. As the hot water beat against my skin, his hands pressed against my breasts firmly, lifting me from being bent over to standing erect. He dragged his teeth along my neck as he turned me away from the warm water and against the center of the shower’s inner structure. With my face against the tile wall, he lifted me slightly with each stroke of his cock. He reached for the shower head and repositioned it to spray the hot water against my right side. Clutched in his arms with his forearms along my torso and his hands squeezing my breasts, he forced himself in and out of me like a man possessed. The angle and the pressure of his cock against my g-spot drove me insane. I was done. I stood on my toes and stretched my calves. He pressed harder against me.
Now forcefully pounding himself in and out of my swollen mound, Jak was proving a point. Age had nothing to do with anything at this juncture. Jak could out-fuck me, outlast me, and out run me. As my wet body slid up and down the surface of the tile wall – literally being lifted from my feet by his cock, I felt myself begin to climax. My head became a whirlwind of meaningless thoughts. I blinked my eyes and stared at the wall.
What the fuck is happening?
His cock worked some type of Navy SEAL magic against my civilian pussy. I felt myself clench against the shaft of his cock. This was going to be huge. As he continued to press deeper into me, my body went limp against the wall. My head exploded into every thought and feeling I had ever encountered in a lifetime of feelings – all at once. I opened my mouth. It happened again. He held himself deep inside of me and began to scream. As his voice echoed throughout the shower and bathroom, his cock swelled. I held my breath and waited as he lifted me from the floor of the shower and against the wall. I exhaled loudly as he exploded his warmth inside of me.
He continued to scream a cry of love, passion, and of proving he could cum twice in one sexual setting. My mind and body expanded into a time and place like no other. I felt as if I had become immortal. A tingling sensation filled me as I flattened my face into the wet wall and reached a level of climactic pleasure I was certain so very few have ever known.
Jak Anderson Kennedy was not the man of my dreams. I never dreamed of wanting a man before I met Jak. Jak happened into my life not as a gift or an answer to one of life’s many unanswered questions. I had lived my life as a fractured soul; a misguided and uncertain form of human life with no direction. Assembled of a thousand small pieces of what would never become one, I was truly broken. A large piece of me was missing. No more useful than a clock without its hands, I was incomplete. I needed something to snap into place and allow me to become whole. Try as I might to force something into the empty space within me, I lived a life in denial of my brokenness. Jak was not a compliment to my life, or an object of my desire.
Jak was the last remaining piece of me.
He tucked the towel into my cleavage and lifted me from my feet. Exhausted and filled with love, I sighed as Jak carried me into the bedroom. After lowering me to the bed, he pushed his hands onto his hips as I relaxed onto my back. With a towel around his waist and droplets of water covering his muscular body, Jak stood before me smiling.
You torturous prick.
Without speaking, he leaned over me and removed a pillow from the bed. Now standing beside me clutching the corner of the pillow, he grinned as it hung heavily from his grip. Eventually, after a few very long moments of admiring Jak, my eyes fell closed.
Whack!
I felt a dull abrupt pressure against my stomach. I opened my eyes. He swung the pillow again.
Whack!
“Tired?” he howled.
Still not quite mentally competent, I blinked my eyes.
Whack!
“Too exhausted to fight back?” he asked as he raised the pillow over his head.
In what I’m sure Jak would describe as an evasive maneuver, I rolled away from him repeatedly, and grabbed a pillow as I fell to the floor.
The feather pillows were cheap ones from Target, and leaked feathers terribly. Of a typical morning, there would be a dozen feathers littering the floor from just sleeping on them. They were, however, simply lovely to sleep with. As I rose from my squatted position and peered over the top of the comforter, Jak leaped onto the bed. As his body bounced into position, I swung the pillow toward his head.
Whack!
My towel fell to the floor. As he looked down at the bed and attempted to recover, I gripped the pillow with both hands and swung with all my might. Heavily, it came down on the back of his head.
Whack!
“Did that feel like a tired woman swung it?” I screamed as I ran naked into the living room.
Jak immediately followed behind me.
We chased each other through the living room naked for fifteen minutes. No one won and no one lost. Me sitting on one couch and Jak sitting on the other, we each held the pillows against our naked bodies. White feathers filled the air. Jak was a gorgeous man in ways no one would ever know. As Jak stared at me admiringly, I stood, dropped my pillow onto the couch, and walked naked to the easel. After a few minutes of cleanup and preparation, I began to paint. I grinned as I painted a few white feathers in contrast to the purples, blues, and reds surrounding my face. After what seemed like only a matter of minutes, the room began to darken. I looked out the window. The setting sun was all I needed to see to bring me to the realization several hours had passed. I stood back and admired my finished work. Typically, I would sign my first name in the lower right hand corner. If Jak was going to hang this in his apartment, I preferred everyone who entered his home to know who I was. I proudly wanted to claim Jak and bring attention to the fact he was mine.
I squeezed yellow paint onto the palette, and dobbed the brush into it heavily. In four-inch-tall yellow letters across the bottom of the painting, I stroked my name.
I turned to face the couch. Naked and partially covered with the pillow, Jak slept. I lifted the painting from the easel and quietly carried it to the couch opposite where Jak slept. I leaned the freshly painted canvas against the cushion so he could see it when he woke up. I lifted my pillow from the floor and walked toward Jak. Softly, I lowered myself onto the couch beside him and pressed my skin to his. As I pulled the pillow to my body for a little warmth, I looked across the room at my work.
I looked beautiful.
The bold yellow name across the bottom of the painting would make clear to anyone who entered his apartment who I was.
Stay away bitch, he’s mine.
JAK. A three-month anniversary may be nothing measurable to most people, but to me it was as significant as landing on the moon. Karter was scheduled to leave town and make an appearance at an art exhibit in Dallas, Texas over the weekend. Although I would have loved to accompany her, the tight schedule for the event and the fact my mother’s air con
ditioner was broken would prevent me from going with her. We agreed the two days away from each other would serve the two of us as a reminder of the depth of our love and affection for each other.
Soon it would be fall, and the outdoor activities would shrink as the weather cooled and the days became shorter. As strange as it seemed to say, I looked forward to autumn and winter with Karter. Spending time with her in her home made me feel as if we were an actual couple. Having a life with her outside of eating, movies, and social activities would be satisfying on an entirely different level. Having a home life with Karter would satisfy me greatly.
The waitress smiled as she removed our plates from the table. Karter sat back in the booth and sighed as she rubbed her stomach. Adrian’s had become our preferred place to eat out. Having felt guilty for leaving before we actually ate the first time, we soon returned. The meal was fabulous, and the service was second to none. Each time I asked Karter where she wanted to eat, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Adrian’s.
Nervously, I leaned into the center of the table, “So are you excited about this weekend?”
“No. I’m damned near sick about it. Do you realize since the day we met, the very first day, we haven’t spent so much as one day apart?” she shrugged.
I was well aware. To think of her being away from me caused me to feel uneasy. Karter had not become a part of my life or even my significant other; I needed her to simply survive. To dream of being without Karter was not to think of being alone, but to think of not even being. Karter had become my life support system.
“I’m well aware. That’s what makes your weekend good and bad both. It’ll be good for us,” I sighed.
CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set) Page 73