by Tilly Greene
Jon was able to fuck her freely, and he did. She was still tight around him, but not as much as before. He was able to move more quickly and, somewhere along the line, he added a circular motion.
“You okay?” he queried as he thrust most of his length in before pulling the rod free.
“Great! I’m great. Keep going,” she murmured. As he fucked her, she only cared about being with him, lost in the abyss of pleasure.
They had a rhythm to what they were doing, or they did until he grasped hold of a breast and held it out as he leaned down to run his tongue around the hard tip.
“Oh, oh my. Oh, Jon,” she cried as her hands gripped his head. From there, all words became grunts, moans, and groans.
He bit, tugged, and sucked the nipple and it seemed to have a line straight to her pussy. With each loving touch from his mouth and teeth, she wanted to wrap her legs around him and absorb everything about him. An idea slipped in her head how he didn’t need to fuck in and out of her as long as his mouth worked on her breast. All was beautiful, then he would slide his cock in and out, and her eyes would roll back in her head.
The time came when he shifted her leg and held the knee pressed to the bed. Without any warning, he pushed in and she started to climax as he pulled free. The release was in the back of her throat until she screamed his name, then it moved down to rapidly pulse in her pussy.
Jon was more than a sex machine. He was a living, breathing, thinking man who gave her things she hadn’t known she wanted. Sex with the coach had always followed a routine. They’d strip, fuck in missionary or from behind, come, and they were done. There was nothing habitual about this man and she was thrilled by the discovery.
As she started to come down to earth, he shifted onto his knees and brought her with him, leaving her head and shoulders on the bed. She wasn’t sure what to do with her feet and there was no time to figure it out.
With his thumb once again circling her clit, he moved his cock steadily in and out of her wet pussy. She could hear the moist music created by their lovemaking, but couldn’t focus on it. Lost to their passion and on the cusp of coming again, she could only say one word to him.
“Please,” she panted over and over again.
He breathed heavily, and his hair no longer hung straight down past his ears but was mussed from her hands. A part of her needed to know he was human. At one point she wondered because he seemed to be all powerful, all knowing.
“Please what, flower. Please what?” He grunted and kept fucking her as he teased her excited bundle of nerves.
“Please,” was all she could groan before the flood gates opened. Apparently the previous climax had been an appetizer. Her slit pulsated around his rapidly plunging cock and tried to pull it in to hold the hard flesh captive. She didn’t want to ever lose him being buried inside her body.
A minute later—maybe more, maybe less—he came and she tried to soak in every grunt and pulse pounding beat he made. She wanted his seed and it seemed to be the final stage in what they’d done, only his release rested in the bottom of a rubber. They’d have to talk about specifics, although she could say without pause she wanted all he had to offer. She was on a birth control pill and had no STD’s, which meant condoms wouldn’t be an issue.
When he finally relaxed on top of her, she didn’t ask for air. Instead, she accepted him and his weight, wrapped her arms and legs around him, and held on as he breathed. This was the man Molly wanted to spend her life with. There was much more to learn about and from him. She wanted and hoped to experience everything life offered with him at her side.
CHAPTER FIVE
Molly couldn’t be happier as they snuggled under a blanket on the long leather couch in the screened-in back porch. The moonlight shined through tree branches and made it feel almost like it was daytime.
They weren’t doing anything special, unique or sexual. An occasional word or two was spoken, but they simply sat quietly with each other.
It gave her time to think, not dwell, but think through what had happened and what, if anything, she’d change. There was only one thing: to not have the tattooed portrait of a past partner on her back. If she wanted to label it, then a monkey on her back would suit it best.
“How hard would it be to have my tattoo erased?” She said it out loud and hadn’t actually meant to. However, she sensed she should get rid of some unwanted weight when she told him what was on her mind.
“Many, many visits to someone who uses lasers, and each visit will cost a chunk.” The news wasn’t the best, but he went on and gave her hope. “You could find a tattoo artist you trust and, if they’ll do it, have them do a cover-up tat. I’ve seen a few of those and you can’t see the original ink without looking hard.”
“Interesting. You’ve given me an option I hadn’t thought of,” she murmured and started to think about a potential new opportunity to erase the ink. She wasn’t ashamed of having a tattoo, but she was of having a past boyfriend who, at the end of their relationship, treated her like dirt. It actually sounded more like a viable solution and a great deal cheaper. Maybe she could get rid of him and move on with life. She wanted to get on with things and not be ashamed of her past or her back.
What a joy it would be to shake off the past and be free of a mistake she’d once made. The more her tattoo circled around in her head, the sooner she realized exactly what the first step into something new should be.
“From the age of twelve or thirteen, somewhere around there, he was my coach for riding and eventually eventing. He was my world. Everyday we’d meet up and for hours we’d talk and do all things horse related. On my sixteenth birthday, we had sex for the first time. I was an adult and we were starting a life as a couple, at least to me.”
“Sixteen? We’re talking about a child. You couldn’t make any decisions at such a young and undeveloped age.” Despite their relaxed positions, he didn’t keep the note of anger out of his voice. She knew he wasn’t upset with her, but with someone else. It was nice for someone to see the law said one thing and know human nature another.
“The legal age for consent in England is sixteen. He didn’t break any laws, although I look back now and know I wasn’t versed enough in life experience to make such a decision.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and held her tighter. She wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, but it didn’t matter. Being in his arms seemed to heal her open wounds.
“Both my parents were Olympic riders and it was my goal to be one as well. I figured it was in my blood and therefore a given. I was going to win the gold and surpass them, be better than them, and they encouraged me to think in such terms. Eventually my father retired and worked as an advisor for the British team. There was never an assumption I was entitled to any special treatment by the rest of the team or me. Particularly me, but my skill and numbers put me there.”
While they’d never been a particularly close family, she hadn’t anticipated what happened.
“We were at Beijing and I’d made it into the final round for individual eventers. I was preparing for the last leg, cross-country, and looked for Max. Usually he would be at my side, helping me get my horse settled and giving me advice on the course. Then I found him and a daughter of another advisor. They were walking with their arms around each other. It was no big deal until the two became touchy feely and my eyes were opened. Finally, I realized why he hadn’t been around as much.
“Needless to say, my head wasn’t in the mindset for intense riding and I was thrown. Of course I got back on, redid the jump, and made it across the line in goodish time. I won the bronze, not the gold. There was no goodbye, we’re finished, let’s move on. As far as I was concerned, we were done and there was no reason for a confrontation.”
Molly took a deep breath and got to the part that had hurt more than the breakup.
“I was sad and figured eventually I could move on, but it wasn’t to be. After all the muck, I left when my parents told me to stop crying over a man. The
y figured I should be crying over my horrific performance at the Olympics. Apparently I’d shamed them and their standing within the equestrian community. How could they continue to claim their expertise when their own daughter, the golden child for the British equestrian team, choked, failed…you get the idea.”
There, the ugly marks on her past were out there. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Jon and tried hard to not have any expectations, either. Sharing the past with someone was one thing, wanting them to say something to make it all better was wrong.
With his chin rested on top of her head and arms around her tightly, he shared a sigh. There were a few ways she could take his response. Molly settled on the one she wanted and hoped it was the same for him. Ultimately she was not happy with how her parents handled the situation.
“Five years is too long to waste thinking about when people don’t support you.” The quiet statement had a good dose of truth to it. In the end, the fact they were her parents didn’t matter. They didn’t support her as a young woman, fine, life had continued. She needed to forgive them and move on.
“You’re right. I should call them and get on with my life. I’m almost twenty-six years old, there’s a lot more to come my way.” She moved her head to rest on his bicep and looked directly at him, locking her eyes to his. “Thank you for listening and not judging.”
“No, I’m sorry, but I did judge. I judged your coach. What he did disturbs me and my morals as a man. I’m utterly disgusted with how he used a young woman both emotionally and physically.” His hands grasped hold of her face and he held her firmly as he spoke. “I’m pained by what you went through as a young lady, but I am proud of the woman you have become. Proud you’ve moved past the ugliness to be here with me.”
“I’ve only ever had sex with him and you, and with you it was magical,” she confirmed with a smile.
“What we had together wasn’t sex, Molly. Sex is when there’s no feelings involved and I have feelings for you, lots of them.” What he said wiped the smile off her face and took her breath away. He cared and she more than cared, which left the question of whether or not there a future for them.
“I have feelings for you,” she confided and leaned up to seal her words with a kiss.
They shared one of the sweetest and most seductive lip locks. There were no tongues, only what they were feeling and their lips touching. At first it was soft, gentle, maybe even loving, then it turned into more. The feelings and passion were still there as they deepened the kiss. They pressed their lips more firmly together, her in a bid to push everything away except him.
Jon pulled back and watched her closely as he spoke.
“Shall we make feelings again?”
Molly wanted to laugh at his using feelings instead of love, except she understood how much weight the word carried with its use. The seriousness of where they found themselves seeped in and she was surprised by what it brought to mind. Her joy over possibly falling in love again brightened her mood even further.
With a newfound confidence in them as a couple, she gave him her answer and asked a question of him.
“Definitely, and will some of it be with BDSM?”
There, she’d put the activity out between them. Was he actually involved in that particular world, or was it a rumor? There’d been no hint of his being kinky when they were in bed together, and she’d expected something.
“Do you know what BDSM is?”
“No, well, not specifically, but in general. It’s tying up a partner and taking them, right?” She wasn’t sure about the specifics, which fed her curiosity even further. Actually, what she knew, the handcuffing or tying up and taking, turned her on. Secretly she hoped it was an interest of his which they could experiment with together.
“Kind of, but there’s much more to it. Some say they’re separate predilections. One would be bondage, then dominance and submission, and another sadism and masochism. However, others prefer to label it bondage and discipline and S&M. In general terms, the B is for bondage, D is domination and the SM is sado-masochism.”
“Oh, sounds confusing.” She was surprised the simple acronym wasn’t set in stone.
“Only as much as you want it to be, but I suggest you pick a definition you like and go with it.” Jon was a relaxed person and she liked that about him.
“What is set in stone when it comes to the BDSM world?”
“Well, for one thing, whatever happens is between consenting adults. There is no room for someone being forced to do something they don’t want to do. Many people use safe words to call a halt to the action and others, more lifestylers than anyone else, prefer to rely on the Dom or Domme to know their subs well enough to stop when they’ve had enough.” He stretched out further and pulled her closer.
Secured, safe, and cherished all raced through her with many other emotions in the mix. Mentally, it was a beautiful place to be, with him at her side. Physically, she felt frisky as they started talking about BDSM. It was a more serious conversation and she wasn’t sure why.
“The SM, sado-masochism part, is all about a person who finds pleasure in giving pain and the other in receiving. I personally find no interest in either of those roles.” As he talked in a calm, no-nonsense tone, one of his hands spread across her belly. The pinky touched her mound. Only touched and nothing else.
“What about the domination? It sounds like it would be harsh.”
“Depends on how a person approaches the scene.”
“Wait, a scene? What do you mean?” She liked to know every question she asked would be answered.
“A scene is when the people involved, all of whom know the parts they’re going to play beforehand, follow the agreed upon activities to their conclusion. In other words, they play until everyone comes.”
“Got it, now finish what you were going to say about domination. Please,” she said the last word with a big grin. She was demanding, but in a nice way.
“Dominants can be as firm or gentle as they want to be, it depends on how their submissives react. Everyone is in it for pleasure and seeks out like minded partners or, in this case, their opposites.”
“I can’t see someone being nice as they dominate another person.” She still found nothing intriguing about BDSM and she was starting to worry if he was interested in the sexual preference.
“I dominated you earlier when you opened your blouse for me while I barbequed.” He laughed softly and reached up to pinch a nipple. Inhaling sharply, she took a second to remember the conversation and struggled. All the lust his pinch brought to the surface raced straight down to her pussy and robbed her brain of thinking cells.
As she breathed unsteadily, she remembered how he’d asked her to uncover her breasts. Their conversation at the grill replayed through her mind, she suddenly gasped. Jon had told her the only reason she needed to unbutton her blouse was because he’d asked. He had dominated her and she had most definitely enjoyed it.
“You did,” Molly told him, sounding surprised. “Does it mean I’m a submissive?”
“You certainly reacted like one. Did you like unbuttoning your blouse no matter who might walk outside and see your breasts, simply because I asked?” Jon released the nipple and softly circled the areole.
“I made my choice when I figured out I didn’t care about what anyone else might think or see, except you. I was turned on and wanted your touch.” She said nothing except what was true for her.
“I’d say you lean towards being a sub, but it’s only a label. BDSM is only letters with definitions attached. You do whatever makes you happy, is how I choose to look at things. Some would call me a Dom and I’m fine if they do, but I don’t call myself one. My kink preferences are to dominate my partner, and also to bind them up and pleasure them.
“Basically I’m a guy who enjoys toys, gadgets, furniture…things to hopefully enhance and take things to a new level. They are my tools to help make things more fun. I never blindfold or obscure my partner’s mouth. I want th
em to see everything and tell me how they’re enjoying themselves or not.”
For a second it sounded like he was interviewing for a job, then she realized in a way he was.
“Do you want to dominate, bind, and use your gadgets on me?” She wasn’t sure where the guts to ask the question had come from, but she was proud of herself for doing it.
“Yes, but I’m not sure you know what I’m talking about. I’ve made it sound nice, erotic and tied it up in a pretty bow, but it isn’t. If I had to say it was something more than any other, I’d call it lust first and foremost. I’d want to make you come, and often. There be would no pretty cries, but all out guttural need voiced as pleas for more.”
The picture he painted stunned her. His words didn’t dissuade her from wanting to try. If anything, he encouraged her to want it more.
“I didn’t see any sign of toys in your bedroom or the guest room. Would you normally go to a club and find a partner there?”
“There’s been no one I’ve had sex with or got kinky with since a few weeks before you arrived. From our first meeting in the diner, I haven’t wanted to spend time with anyone but you.” His words made her glow brighten further. He wanted her and she wanted him. Would their getting kinky, as he called it, ruin things between them? She didn’t want it to, but she knew this was a part of his life. He wanted it, and she would try to fit in.
“I’m flattered and thrilled you want to be with me. I want to be with you, all of you.” Jon shifted the blanket off them and ran his hand down from where it dallied with her nipples. It moved over her stomach ultimately to dabble between her inner thighs. His fingers tickled, but also seduced. She wanted to part them for him again, only he used his hold on her knee to lift the leg until it draped over one of his.
Spreading her open, he cupped her mound and teased her by dipping a finger inside her pussy while his thumb circled her clit.