Keeping It Up with the Joneses

by N. S. Johnson

  Calvin sighed as looked at her dripping cunt. He’d swear that gush of air nearly made him nut in his pants. But he held it together and aimed the cock between her legs.

  “Wait,” she stayed his hand. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

  Calvin’s dick took a running leap at her but met with the metal teeth of his zipper. Instead of his aching, weeping dick, he fed her tongue the fake cock.

  She took it. All of it. She took it deep, getting it wet and ready for her entrance.

  He pumped it in and out a few times. It was fucking torture watching her deep throat silicone when she had flesh and blood in his pants. She released it with a pop and then settled back, spreading her thighs on either side of him as he sat down on her expensive coffee table.

  Calvin’s hands were shaking by the time she released the cock from her throat. He aimed it again for her entrance. It slid in like butter.

  Well, the tip went in smoothly. But there was a lot of pink real estate left on the outside of her pussy.

  The dildo was firm but at the same time flexible. He watched with wide eyes as it stretched her wide. The skin between her ass and cunt stretched and strained as he pumped it deeper and pulled it back out.

  “More,” she moaned.

  He pushed it in further until it was half way in. Her head lolled back. The cream of her previous orgasm gathered along the silicon. Her cunt muscles sucked, making a slurping motion.

  “Faster,” she demanded.

  His forearm got a work out as he shoved it in and pulled it out. The retreat was the main part of the workout as she clamped down and clutched at the device. The slurping was hypnotic. It made his mouth water. It turned his already hard cock into granite. He felt himself leaking in his work pants.

  The motion of his arm was so great that it shook his torso. His chest heaved with the exertion. His ass scoot forward and back with the motion, rubbing his balls on the glass portion the mahogany table. It sounded like he was a rag and the pool of semen leaking from his neglected cock head was the Windex giving the glass a good cleaning.

  And still her cunt juices gathered and coalesced. They grew thick, like icing on a cake that he wanted to run over his tongue. Some of it got on his fingers and he wanted to stop and lick them clean.

  But he didn’t dare stop. He saw her stomach muscles working. Her thighs shook. She was going to come again.

  And then she did. Her body shook with the orgasm. He slowed down to watch, but her eyes slammed open.

  “Don’t stop,” she panted. “I want to go again.”

  Again? How many times could a woman come? How many times had she already gone? Was this number three? It usually took him forever to get his ex off -if she had ever got off. But Mrs. Jones was coming again. So hard he felt it through the dildo.

  The scent of her filled the air. It was on the tip of his tongue. His arm was tired, but he didn’t stop. He wanted to see how far she could go.

  He wasn’t a fan of going down on women. Oral sex had always been a means to an end for him. He preferred his dick inside a woman than his tongue. But the fuck if he didn’t want to lick her from her ass to that pretty little bud.

  But that’s not what she’d asked him to do. He was testing out the toys for her husband. She had a husband. That would be home any minute now.

  The cum was accumulating around her cunt. It was creaming, getting thicker like actual whipped cream. His lips watered to take a taste.

  She came so hard the next time that she pushed the dildo out. A gush of her juices spilled out along with the silicon. Calvin moaned out loud.

  She lay there. Her body open and trembling. Her eyes closed. Her head tossed back.

  He could jam his dick into her right now. She probably would thank him for it. She opened her eyes and stared at him as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. She curved her lip in a sated grin.

  “Looks like I don’t have to send anything back,” she said.

  “I don’t think you could,” he offered. “Since you opened the packages and used the products.

  Her gaze fell on his pants. “You doing okay down there?”

  His tongue was watering so much he’d almost forgot about his throbbing cock. Almost. “I could use some relief.”

  She crooked her finger. “Let me help you out with that.”

  “Could I clean you up first?” He couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. Was he seriously offering to lick a cunt with his tongue before jamming his dick inside?

  She smiled a wicked grin. She put her hands over her head and spread her legs for him.

  He got down on his knees. He breathed her in. His cock protested, wanting to go where his tongue aimed. But it could wait. He had to taste that creamy treat.

  When his tongue struck her, he nearly came.

  He licked up the creases of her thighs. He circled the bud. He lifted each labia to get at the cream on both sides. While he was down there, licking up the mess he’d made of her, she came again, giving him even more of her essence, fresh this time.

  He covered her with his entire mouth and sucked it all down, greedy to get every last drop. She had to give him a shove to unlatch him from her pussy. He licked his lips as he rose his head.

  “Good boy,” she purred.

  The compliment made him insanely happy and prideful.

  “Give it here,” she crooked a finger down at his cock.

  His fingers trembled as he unzipped his pants. His throbbing dick spilled out.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “You’re a big boy aren’t you?”

  He nodded his head, but she wasn’t looking at the head on his shoulders. She captured the one at the end of his dick. He nearly buckled over her body as she did.

  She worked him over like his ex never had, like no woman ever had. He didn’t last long at all. His seed gushed through him the moment she sunk him deep down her throat. He tried to pull out -halfheartedly.

  Thank god, she held him in place. He jerked into her mouth, once, twice, three, four, five times. Spilling every thing that was in him into this goddess of Main Street.

  When she was done, she leaned back against the couch and wiped at the corner of her mouth. There was a trace of him on her lips. She snagged it with her thumb and licked it off. His dick jerked a sixth time, clenching around an empty tank.

  “Thanks for helping me out with those gifts for my husband. He’ll appreciate it.”

  Fuck, he’d forgotten about her husband the moment she swallowed him whole. Mr. Jones should be here any minute. Calvin pulled up his pants.

  “I’ve got a few more things on order,” she said. “They should be in next week. Will you be working?”

  If he wasn’t, he’d get on the schedule first thing in the morning.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you so long,” she said as he straightened his clothes. She stood alongside him, not bothering to pull on her discarded robe.

  Calvin took one final glance at her before he gathered his clipboard and headed out. It was well into rush hour. He’d definitely miss kick off as he got stuck in traffic. But he could care less. His balls were light. A pep was in his step.

  A Plymouth Fury pulled into the driveway with a low growl. A man in a business suit got out. Calvin froze in the middle of the driveway as Mr. Jones came near.

  “You the delivery guy?”

  Calvin couldn’t speak. He nodded.

  “My wife got her packages?”

  Calvin nodded again.

  “You came out empty handed so I’m guessing she’s not sending anything back.”

  Calvin shook his head.

  “So all of them worked out?”

  Calvin didn’t know how to answer that question, except with the truth. “Yes, Mr. Jones.”

  “Excellent,” Mr. Jones clapped him on the back with a wide, friendly grin. “I appreciate you helping out with that.”

  Calvin was speechless. Did he know what the two of them had just been doing? It didn’t see
m like he was about to pummel Calvin into the ground.

  “Do you want me to sign that?” Mr. Jones pointed to the paper on the clipboard authorizing any delivery man to leave a package at the stoop.

  Calvin shoved the clipboard behind his back and shook his head vehemently.

  Mr. Jones chuckled. “Traffic’s actually pretty light this evening. If you hurry, you might make tonight’s game.” He clapped him on the back again. “Thanks, again for taking care of my wife’s package.”

  The Co-Worker

  Andrea shoved aside the mountain of paperwork on her desk. She glanced at the clock on her office wall and saw that she wouldn’t make it out of the office before 6pm. More than likely she’d be walking out of the doors of Johnson, Dick, and Jones Goods and Services by 8pm, and that’s if she was lucky.

  No matter how much she got done, the work just kept piling on. She would never admit that she couldn’t keep up. Especially since they’d hired a new partner.

  She’d been at this job for five years, seven if you counted her time as a college intern. But she’d been passed over for promotion by another dick.

  But did she complain? No. She put her head down and worked even harder, determined to break the glass ceiling; or get into the men’s room as it were.

  Did they think she couldn’t handle the work? Women were going out on maternity leave all the time. Andrea wasn’t a maternal person. She worked weekends, rarely took a vacation, and was always the first in and last out of the doors. Her relationship status was non-existent because men were intimidated by her ambition.

  Okay, maybe they weren’t intimidated. It was pretty difficult to be intimidated by someone you didn’t see often. And she wasn’t the type to stay at home, and cook, or clean, or sit still. Which her libido suffered for. She was going through AA batteries at an alarming rate.

  But it would all be worth it when she reached her career goal. She just had to show the new partner that she was worth another look for the next time they were ready to choose a partner. Or at least ready to head the next account they took on.

  Speaking of which, she needed that file on the new client they’d acquired. It was high up on the shelf in her office. High enough that she couldn’t reach it in her six inch heels.

  She huffed, wondering how the damn thing had got up there in the first place. She looked around for something to climb onto. She pushed an empty box for copy paper over and stepped up. Her degree was in business not engineering or physics, so she wasn’t surprised when her heel went through the cardboard and she teetered.

  She braced herself to hit the ground but instead she fell into strong arms. Andrea opened her eyes to see Mr. Jones, her new colleague; the business’ new partner. She hadn’t gotten his first name. She’d been too busy trying not to let the steam out of her head when he was introduced at this week’s staff meeting. After she’d calmed down, she’d been too busy trying not to stare at the new hire.

  Mr. Jones was super model gorgeous. Tall, dark handsome. He had thick, dark curls atop his head. His lashes were long, shielding hazel eyes. His square jaw did nothing to detract from his lush, kissable lips which were moving and forming words at her. She struggled to listen as she lay cradled against his firm chest.

  “Careful,” he said.

  She could only stare at him. His breath smelled like mint. The cool flavor heated her nose. He cradled her against his chest, one hand on her ass holding her up. It was the most action she’d received in months. She wanted to stay in this position. But she could not let this guy know he was needed in her office in any way, shape, or form.

  “You nearly fell,” he stated the obvious.

  He also didn’t let her down. His face was close to hers, breathing that mint on her. She noticed his eyes weren’t hazel. They just sparkled with a light from within. They were actually a deep brown, like a pot of strong coffee.

  Andrea loved coffee. She’d drink it from the teat if she could. She felt Mr. Jones’ nipple through his cotton business shirt. He wasn’t wearing his jacket.

  She blinked and wiggled. She should not be noticing his nipples. She had to get down. But he held her comfortably in his arms as though he didn’t intend to let her down.

  “Whoa there,” he said carrying her over to her office chair. “You may have twisted your ankle. Let me take a look.”

  Mr. Jones sat her in her chair. Then he crouched down with his back to her desk. He rolled her chair away towards the window and hunched down before the dark space beneath her desk.

  He took her foot in his big hand. His palm was warm. His finger pads sent tingles along her bare ankles.

  “Nice stems,” he said with the heel of her shoe in one hand.

  She sighed, her chest and libido deflating. Of course he was gay. What straight man would notice a woman’s shoes and know the difference between a heel and stem.

  Well, good. At least that would get her libido under control when he was in a room. Maybe now she’d be able to get a fair shot at more accounts with a man who thought with the head on top of his shoulders instead of the one in his pants.

  “I think my wife has the same pair,” Mr. Jones said, still admiring her shoe.

  Andrea held her groan as her shoulders slumped in more. Wife? That was even worse if he was able to make a commitment. “You’re married?”

  “Hmm.” He slipped her shoe off and took her heel in his hand.

  She groaned.

  “Does that hurt?” His coffee-colored eyes latched onto hers.

  Her addiction raged, making her blood hungry and her mouth water. Andrea set her mouth to say no, but what came out was “I’m not sure?”

  His big hands on her ankle felt so, damn good. She just needed a few more moments of him just holding her like that and the sensory memory would do for her spank bank later tonight. She needed to make sure she picked up some more AA batteries.

  “I’m really glad we’re working together,” he said as he massaged her uninjured heel. “I have a lot of respect for your work. I looked you up before I came here. What you did with the Cain deal was inspired.”

  “You looked me up?”

  “Hmm.” The way he said that single word made heat roll through her entire body. “You’re quite brilliant, you know. In fact, I came in to your office now because I would like for us to work closely together.”

  Now her head was swimming along with the zing up her legs.

  Those deep, brown eyes held her. He lifted those lashes, letting her see into him. “I’d love to have you for dinner.”

  “Have me? For dinner?”

  She ran the words over and over again. From another guy it would sound like a come on. She could admit that she wished it was a come on from him. But the gold band on his finger pulled her up short.

  Not short exactly. It pulled her up high as it ran up her calf and massaged just behind her knee.

  “You mean dinner with you and your wife?” she reminded him.

  “Oh, my wife would eat you up.”

  How did he make that sound sexy? Did he mean to? Wait was he coming onto her or not? Did she want him to?

  No, of course not. He was married. And a partner. She was a business woman. She’d had to deal with men in her place of work making passes. But she’d never traded sexual favors for advancement and she had no intention of doing that now or ever.

  “You two are a like,” Jones was saying as he continued to massage higher and higher up her thigh. “I have a thing for smart, beautiful, independent women.”

  Andrea blinked. But the motion of her eyes didn’t clear the haze setting in her mind. He was hitting on her. So why wasn’t she stopping him?

  He leaned closer, his nose near the crotch of her thighs, and inhaled. “What did you wash your pussy with? Is that Summer’s Eve?”

  Andrea gave a little inhale. But still she didn’t pull away from him, or protest. Was she that in need of male attention that she’d get it from the new partner who was also married? With his hands on her i
nner thigh and his nose inhaling up her skirt… well?

  “Fuck, I have a kink for Summer’s Eve,” he said.

  He continued to nose his way up her skirt. She knew she should push him away but her hands wouldn’t work. Jones parted her thighs easily. He took another whiff. Then he raised his head back up.

  “Do you mind?” he asked. “Can I have a taste?”

  Yes, tell him yes, her long-neglected cunt demanded. But she didn’t. “You’re married.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a tinge of regret. “My wife switched to this expensive European shit. I like the taste because it’s her cunt, and I love my wife’s cunt.” He grinned. “But I still like a little summer time flavor every once in a while.”

  She couldn’t get her mouth to work. He was asking to eat her pussy. And talking about how much he loved eating his wife’s pussy. Was this really happening?

  “Unless you don’t like oral sex,” he said. “Can you believe some women don’t? I think they just haven’t met the right man.”

  Andrea loved oral sex. A lot. She got it so rarely. She’d traded boyfriends blow jobs for a good pussy licking, but it was rarely good. Jones looked like he’d be good. Was pussy licking cheating? Was it really qualified as sex?

  She must’ve taken too long to answer. Jones released her foot and leg. He leaned back on his haunches, away from her. She wanted to yank him back. She wanted to scream yes.

  “What?” he asked. “Do you think if I lick your pussy it’ll make me think less of you?” He shook his head and made a tsking sound. “I don’t get that about women? I always think more of the women I fuck. It let’s me get to know them better. Aside from their brain and their beauty, you learn a lot about a person when they let you into their bodies.”

  He shrugged leaning back against the edge of her desk.

  “Listen, Andrea, whether you let me lick your clit or not it won’t change the fact that you have a brilliant business mind. I still want to work with you.”

  She couldn’t form words. She couldn’t sit up. She couldn’t even close her legs.

  “I’ve shocked you,” he sighed. “You should know this about me; I always say exactly what’s on my mind. And what’s on my mind right now is eating out your sweet-smelling cunt until your scent is all over my face.”