Fifty-Two Pickup: Threes (Jessica Rogers Book 3)
Page 14
“Something like that,” he said laughing. “You’re a good guesser.”
His hands were covered with sticky sauce, and so I helped myself to a wine glass and poured a drink. I like the point in a relationship where I truly feel at home in a man’s house. Peter had gone to lengths to assure me that I was more than welcome. He’d even offered me a key, but I told him I wasn’t ready to single out one man to that degree…
Yet…
Sipping wine and watching a man cook is damn sexy, I’ll have to admit.
When he plated our food, I was stunned at how professional the presentation looked, as if we’d gone to a classy restaurant. He could have been a chef, instead of a surgeon. I realized his personality type drove him to make everything perfect.
This is a fine quality, to a point.
It's a bit scary, too.
I can't be perfect.
The enchiladas were filled with a Korean-style beef and served with a homemade kimchee that included jalapeño peppers. Peter was an artist, that’s for sure.
“So?” he asked after I’d taken my first bite.
“Oh, my,” I said. “You could open a restaurant.”
“It’s a brutal business, but thanks. I enjoy making things you enjoy.”
“You just want me naked,” I said smiling.
“That too.” He poured us more wine and ate his food seductively.
I tried to return the favor, chewing slowly, savoring the different tastes, the savory, the spicy, the sweetness in a fruit chutney he’d put out as a condiment. “You’re too much,” I said.
“I have to say,” he said, motioning with this fork, “you’re not so bad yourself. I’m growing more fond of you, Jessica, each time we see each other.”
“I’m fond of you, too.” I smiled. “You know, I hate bringing up other men on a date…”
“Go on,” he said pausing. He set down his fork and looked at me and said, “Our relationship has been honest and upfront. I like that.”
“Me, too," I said. I mirrored him, setting down my fork and taking a serious posture. “I was talking with this man—a lawyer—and he’s conflicted about dating other women. I told him he needed to. It wasn’t fair to himself—you know—waiting for me. I intend to date for a year. That’s my plan, anyway. I like you a lot, and I want to keep seeing you.”
“I like you, too.” He smiled. “Continue, please.”
“Well, I figure, you’ve got to have many options to date. You’re a great person. I know that sounds like a cliche, sorry.”
“No worries,” he said laughing slightly. “Cliches work for a reason.”
“Maybe if I was smart, I’d settle down. I can’t believe I’d find better matches than you or either of a couple of men I find to be…how can I say this…great boyfriend material. Super potential. I could see being with any of you in a long term relationship.”
“Maybe you should settle down,” he said. “But you have to be true to yourself, too. You know I think you’re crazy, but I also believe that you're strong and brave. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m here. For now, I’m happy to be one of your potentials…”
“It makes me seem like such a bitch, sometimes.”
“If you weren’t upfront and honest,” he said seriously, “then I’d agree. It would be real bitchy to play a bunch of men without telling them what you were doing.”
“Seems like men have been doing this for years.”
“True. I was never into the game on that level. I’m pretty monogamous.”
“Pretty?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“If I’m in love and committed, I’m one-hundred percent in.”
“That’s fair enough,” I said. “I’m the same, but it’s rare that I’m in love at that level. I guess I’ve been selfish…”
“You have to be… I think.”
“Probably, true. It just seems—sometimes I doubt myself.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the lips tenderly. “Let’s stay on the path we’re on, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered. I almost felt an onslaught of tears—I have no idea why I wanted to cry—but he ran his fingers through my hair and looked me in the eyes, and I felt a sense of confidence in his words.
“If things change, we’ll talk. For now, I enjoy your company, I enjoy your personality, and I really want to drag you into the bedroom…”
“Can I finish my dinner? I think I’m going to need my strength…”
“But, of course,” he said.
WHEN WE FINISHED WITH THE DISHES and chatted about the weather for a minute, he asked me if I’d be willing to try something new.
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “As long as it doesn’t involve blood, vomit, or scat.”
“You’ve left a wide leeway there,” he observed.
“I trust you. Oh, but one more thing, I can’t take you—no way—anally. No offense.”
“You think I’d be offended because you’re hinting I have a giant cock?”
“It’s a stereotype,” I answered.
“Well, that’s true,” he said. “Okay, any anal play will be gentle, but that’s not what I had in mind tonight.”
“And so?”
“I wanted to tie you up,” he stated. “Are you up for some gentle, beginner level bondage?”
“Sure,” I said. “A safe-word?”
“Watermelon.”
“That’s so racist,” I said laughing.
“Yeah, well, I’m the black one here,” he said with a grin. “So, fuck it. Besides, you’ll enjoy this so much I don’t think you’ll need it.”
“You think I’m the type?”
“No, you’re a dom for sure, but forcing yourself to relax and putting yourself into the hands of a lover…it’s going to stretch you—”
“You stay out of my ass!”
“I meant—”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “Yeah, but you’re right. We’ll see.”
PETER SAT IN A CHAIR and watched me undress in silence. I dropped my bra and panties onto the folded pile of clothes and looked at him for direction.
“Get on the bed,” he said. “Lie on your back.”
I followed his instructions. The room went pitch black.
“That’s freaky,” I said.
“Black-out curtains,” Peter said in a soft voice. “Now be quiet. Unless you need to say 'watermelon’ don’t talk.”
I laughed.
“Shhhh,” he whispered.
I was alone for a minute. I could hear a drawer opening. Next, I heard light breathing. Peter took my left wrist and attached a soft restraint. I felt a slight tug and heard him fussing with something metallic in the corner of the bed. He repeated this procedure with my other hand. Next, he restrained my legs. I was spread eagle in total darkness.
“Try to escape, Jess,” he said in a low voice. “I want you to realize you’re completely at my mercy.”
I pulled at the restraints, sure enough, I was completely tied down. If he was a serial killer, I was in trouble…
“I can’t move,” I said.
“Perfect,” he said. “In the future, if you like this game, there won’t be any talking. I’ll assume you’re ready to go as long as you don’t use the safe word.”
“Can I do this to you sometime?”
“Later,” he said. “But yes, I’m open to letting you experiment…probably with the same rules you have for me.”
“I’m getting a strap-on,” I said.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes and my mouth. There was no point in trying to see anything. The room was like a photographic dark room. That’s a place people used to develop this thing called ‘film’ for those of you born in the nineties… Ha ha.
I think I was joking to myself because I felt a tad uneasy.
Not uncomfortable or scared, and I didn’t want to quit, but it was weird feeling completely helpless and restrained.
I was exposed an
d vulnerable.
Peter ran a couple of his fingers up my legs. Starting at my ankles, he moved to my inner thighs but jumped over my pussy—which was at a point of indecision still—and moved his hands to my stomach. Next, I felt warm oil. He spread spicy smelling massage oil with his hands. This sent me to a place of bliss. I tried to adjust my position several times, only to be reminded by my restraints that I couldn’t move.
It was freaky and awesome all mixed together in a jumble of juxtaposed feelings and emotions.
He occasionally stopped and brought his face to mine. We kissed, and while he could hold my face and head, I was helpless to do anything except kiss him back. The sensation was unique as it forced my mind into the place he was concentrating. First he kissed my mouth, then he kissed my breasts and nipples, and finally, he moved to my pussy which had turned into a wet mess by the time he finished with the rest of his massaging, kissing, and caressing.
Oh, God. I was getting into the bliss of being bound.
The feeling was surprisingly sensual, but I suppose the same kind of bondage play could involve whips, chains, and a riding crop.
I wanted to ask him to bring me his beautiful cock, but the rules were the rules, so I kept my mouth shut except to receive his kisses. He sucked, licked, and nibbled on my clit. I began to pant. I pulled my legs, but the restraints held fast. The mixed signals were driving me insane.
“Oh, God…” I panted. I arched my back the best I could to push my pussy tighter against his face. He grabbed my ass firmly with both hands and vigorously moved his face and mouth back and forth across my womanhood. Wow, this was something I’m going to have to recommend you try…
Fucking hell.
I started to shutter.
I convulsed in waves as his tongue worked me into a violent climax.
I jerked all four restraints at once, but they held fast, and I squirmed and moaned as he lightly rested his tongue on my swollen pink pleasure center that continued signaling my brain even after I’d gasped out the final breath in my climax.
I wanted more, but I was afraid to break the rules, so I simply calmed my breathing while I waited to see what would happen next.
Everything was silent for a moment, strong hands lifted my head, and he put a straw gently into my mouth. “Drink,” he whispered.
I sucked water and said, “Thank you.”
Peter untied my right leg and lifted my foot high above the bed.
I was still bound tightly, but with one leg in the air, he was able to straddle my restrained leg and slide his eager stiff cock into me. I moaned the entire time…
“You let me know if I go too hard,” he instructed. “Otherwise, just relax.”
I remained silent and pulled on the hand restraints as he began the most vigorous pounding I’d ever taken in a position other than doggystyle. He pulled my leg up as far as it would go without hurting me, which I think tightened my pussy even more, although I tried to remember to clamp down on his dick as he pulled out. His stroke was accompanied by a grunt and a moan.
His balls rubbed along my restrained leg, and my airborne foot ended up in his mouth somehow. He lightly bit my toes while he started his ascent to the parallel universe we call climaxing, the little-death, orgasm. He bit harder on my toes as he came.
I could feel his balls tighten. His cock throbbed as he came. He growled without losing a grip on my foot.
My climax started as he nibbled on my toes.
I called out in grunts and moans, his cock worked like a machine, and when I exploded, I jerked the restraints so hard I thought they’d break off the bed, but they held fast. I was still coming as he began to slow, and I wanted my clit touched so badly, it hurt. When he finally pulled out, I gasped and said, “Please, Peter, my clit, I’m so close to finishing, please…I know it’s against the rules…”
He touched me with his right hand, using two fingers to penetrate me, while his thumb landed on my clit.
A pinkie finger gently pressed against my ass.
I squirmed against the restraints.
“Oh, God…I’m so fucking close!”
He curled a finger up into my g-spot, and while working his finger in a come-hither motion, he moved his thumb around in a circle over my aching clit.
“You can go deeper,” I panted.
His pinkie moved gently inside me, lubricated by oil and my juices.
I panted as I came again, like a wild animal.
“Oh, fuck!” I screamed at the very peak. I thrashed like prey in a trap and shook my head. I wanted out of my restraints, but yet, I loved the conflicting messages being sent to my brain.
I was both a prisoner and freer than I’d ever felt in bed.
As I came down, Peter untied me.
I curled into a ball, and he held me, in the dark, quietly, for the longest time.
“That was amazing,” I said eventually, but Peter was breathing softly like a baby, and I realized he was asleep. “Holy shit,” I whispered. What other surprises does this man have for me? I allowed myself to join him in never-never-land.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It's all a series of serendipities with no beginnings and no ends.
Such infinitesimal possibilities.
Through which love transcends.
~ Ana Claudia Antunes
MIDORI POURED TEA.
“Love, you’ve been going too fast,” she said.
“I know,” I admitted. Life was getting out of hand, but I had a mission.
“Tell me about your latest developments.” She sipped her tea and gave me that sly Japanese glance that conveyed she knew what I was going to say but wanted to hear me say it anyway.
“Well, things with Peter are going well,” I said starting my discourse. “He’s a good man. Things in the bedroom… I know you don’t want details, so I’ll spare you. But it’s good. He’s fun, smart, oh—and a good cook. Not as good as you…”
She smiled. “Go on.”
“Kirk is settling into his new life in LA. It’s snowing like crazy on the east coast, so he’s experiencing a much different winter than he’s used to.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes, a lot. The problem is that he wants to settle down into a relationship, and I’m not ready. I’ve been having the time of my life with Brad, too.”
“The diver?”
“Yes, he’s a diver, fisherman, and overall stud.” I smiled and sipped my tea. Midori wasn’t a young woman, so it wasn’t out of naivety or shyness that she didn’t like to discuss sex, but rather—I think—a propriety that she’d grown up with. I tried to avoid being too graphic when I talked to her about my love life. Or should I say my sex life?
My love life, if such a thing existed, was an entirely different matter.
“So, you’ve got three guys you like?”
“For now, yes. Instead of a love triangle, I have a love square.”
“You've always been an overachiever.”
I smiled and thought of the last month. I’d had single dates with a couple of guys that didn’t work out, the veterinarian and the cop. I assigned them the three of diamonds and the three of spades, respectively. My dates with Ryan, the engineer, had been fun, I’d assigned him the three of clubs. We’d had sex and good conversation, but he wasn’t ‘right’ enough to continue with a long distant relationship. He was disappointed but took it in stride. I think he realized it would be too difficult to pursue anything further.
Brad was my Three of Hearts.
He was staying in my circle, for now, I enjoyed his company, and he was the kind of adventurous man that seemed always to have something planned. Whether a boat ride for the day, or a flight to Cabo, he avoided boredom, and he was awesome in the sack.
Peter was my two of hearts. If I were forced to pick a man today, right this second, he’d be the one. But long term? I wasn’t sure…
Kirk was my ace of hearts. My fondness for him was not in doubt, but I questioned whether his lifestyle would
keep me excited. I think he wants to settle down, get married, have a couple of kids, and live the Orange County white-picket fence life. I don’t believe that’s me. But, for now…
“What are you thinking about?” Midori asked.
“Oh, men…” I scrunched my mouth in thought. “Why is it so complicated?”
“I think you work on making it that way,” she said.
“You’re probably right, Midori. You know, I think it’s what I crave…complication…newness.”
“Someday you’ll want to be satisfied with a simple life.”
“Maybe.”
“Dear, you can still travel, go to parties, and have fun. Being committed to one man doesn’t have to change all of that.”
“I guess.”
“You’ll see,” she said. “Serendipity will drop a surprise on you. She always does.”
I laughed, and Olive jumped to her feet. Wagging her tail, she put her head on my lap and looked at me with big puppy-dog eyes.
“See, even Olive knows I’m right,” Midori said. “Will you be staying home for dinner tonight, dear?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good, I’ll be right back,” she said standing. “I’m going to set out some rice. Would you like some fruit, love?”
I smiled. It’s good to be mothered once in awhile.
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