Keeping It Up with the Joneses

by N. S. Johnson

  “I know,” he said as his thumb pulled up the hem of her skirt.

  “I won two state business awards and-”

  “One international business award, I know.” He pulled the crotch of her panties to one side.

  “My current GPA is 3.95. I know all of your cases.”

  “I know. That’s why I want you so badly.” He rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger. “On my team.”

  He made the circles wider, rubbing the tip of his thumb around the base of her clit. He anchored himself to her cunt by hooking his forefinger just inside her opening. Round and round he went; slow and methodical.

  By the third circle, Dakota’s inner thighs began to shake.

  “Don’t come,” he said.

  “I won’t.” But her words trembled as they left her throat.

  His forefinger held still just inside her walls, but his thumb sped up its motions. He didn’t increase his pressure. He lightened it. Dakota rooted her heels into the wood floor to stop her hips from chasing his barely there thumb.

  “Just two minutes to go, Dakota. Stay strong for me.”

  “Okay.” But her voice was a whimper. She balled her hands at her sides, but her grip was sweaty and her fingertips couldn’t hold true.

  “Show me that you can take any challenge that I give to you.”

  “I can. I can’t?” She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say? She only knew what her body wanted to do, and it wanted to explode onto his fingers. She grit her teeth and clenched her toes together.

  “Good girl. You’re almost there.”

  Even though Jones was rooting for her, he didn’t let up. He crooked his forefinger, slipping it knuckle deep inside her. Still rubbing her clit in languorously slow, featherlight touches. He ran his index finger vigorously against the spot in her inner walls that just behind her clitoris.

  Dakota reached out for something to hold onto. The only thing that could take her weight was Jones’ strong chest. She couldn’t help it. She rested her head against his chest.

  She heard the strong beat of his heart, coupled with the sticky wet sounds of her cunt. From somewhere she heard the ticking of a clock. But the ticks moved far too slowly, and before her time was up, Dakota burst from the inside out.

  When she came to, the ticking of the clock was next to her ear. Jones stroked a hand over her hair. Dakota caught sight of the watch he wore. It signaled that she had failed in the timed task for a second time.

  When she pulled away from Jones, the disappointment on his face was clear. The delicious heat and quake of the orgasm fell to the wayside as Dakota felt her dreams slipping down her thighs along with her pussy juices.

  Jones sighed as he walked behind his massive desk. “We’ll try again tomorrow. That will be all for the day, Dakota.”

  Dakota headed in to the office walking a bit funny the next morning. She’d spent all night with a vibrator trying to hold her orgasm. After twenty minutes of gritting her teeth while her lower half squirmed, she’d finally given in and had the longest, deepest, hardest orgasm of her life. She’d screamed so loud the neighbors knocked on her door.

  After she’d climbed back in her bed next to her vibrator, she had a brilliant idea. She turned the vibe on and set it against her clit, then inside her channel, then rubbed it against her pussy lips until she could take no more.

  If she was all orgasmed out, then she couldn’t have another tomorrow.

  She marched up to his office. Her nub was numb. And she was ready. This job was hers. The entry-level position wasn’t any longer palatable.

  From inside Mr. Jones’ office she saw a gorgeous woman coming out along with Andrea and Mr. Jones. The woman turned and kissed Mr. Jones full on the lips. Then she reached out and embraced Andrea. The caress was a bit more intimate than what Dakota had ever shown to any of her girlfriends.

  After she let Andrea go, the woman turned and caught Dakota’s gaze. She sized her up in the way that women did. But her assessment wasn’t a hierarchal measurement where she tried to put Dakota into an ordinal place. She cocked her head to the side as though she were trying to figure out if Dakota could fit in.

  “You must be my husband’s intern?” said the woman.

  So, this was the infamous Mrs. Jones. Dakota’s tongue was tied. She could only nod at the inquiry.

  “He’s told me about the excellent work you’ve done.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”

  “I hear you’re up for promotion?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones.

  “Can I offer you some advice? Give in to him.”

  “Give up?” asked Dakota.

  Mrs. Jones shook her head. “Not up. In. Go with the flow instead of against it.”

  Mrs. Jones reached out. When her fingers contacted Dakota’s skin, she shivered. The numb bud between her thighs perked up in attention.

  But the touch was fleeting. And then Mrs. Jones and Andreae walked down the hall. Dakota stared after them a moment before walking into Mr. Jones’ office.

  “Have you prepared yourself?” he asked, shutting the door.

  “I’m ready.”

  Dakota slipped out of her panties, raising for one heeled foot and then the other to step out of them. Then she lay down on the couch, splaying her legs and opening herself for her boss. She took a deep breath, and then promptly jumped at his first touch.

  Her clit sat up like a little puppy eager for the treat being dangled in front of her. Jones raised an eyebrow at her. Dakota sighed.

  This man was going to make her come. It was inevitable. She was going to lose.

  Well, at least she’d get to get off one more time.

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Might as well enjoy the ride. She let her knees fall open. She raised her hips instead of running from him. She relaxed her ass instead of grinding it into the cushion.

  Instead of pushing back or muscling through, Dakota took a deep breath and got ready for the deep contractions that would come from her boss’ fingers.

  She let her mind focus on his moves. He had a pattern, but she didn’t try to figure it out. She just went with it, waiting for the climax to pull her under.

  As she watched his moves, she found it interesting. She’d always thought she needed a firm touch and a steady rhythm –not so. She could enjoy a light touch and erratic rhythm.

  When he entered her and curled his fingers, she went with his motion letting the pressure rise up as he pressed his fingers against her front walls. She gave in, moaning deep in her throat. Her body undulated but didn’t convulse. Not yet.

  She just kept going with the motions, going where his fingers led her. She trusted him to get her there.

  Her body was buzzing. Like a string pulled tight. She knew he would release her at any moment. But the buzzing continued.

  Dakota opened her eyes. It wasn’t just her body buzzing. It was Jones’ phone. It was his timer going of.

  Her time was up. She'd done it. She hadn’t come. She’d given in, but she hadn’t given it up. And now she was getting promoted to the job of her dreams.

  “Congratulations,” Jones grinned down at her.

  There was pride in his eyes. Dakota wanted to reach up and kiss him. But she wanted something else even more.

  “Can I ask you a favor, Mr. Jones?” she said. “Would you mind fucking me now? I’d really like to come.”

  “I’d be delighted to, Dakota,” he said, already reaching for his belt.

  The Lawn Day

  Calvin pulled up to the curb of the Joneses’. It was Thursday and there was a big game coming on in a couple of hours. He’d never make it back across the bridge in time to get food and beer to catch the kick off.

  And he couldn't care less.

  His weekly deliveries to Mrs. Jones were the highlight of his life. It was as though sticking his cock in her eager pussy, her clever mouth, and her tight ass had somehow added to his sex appeal. All of a sudden the girls at the office were checking him o
ut. He’d been hit on at the bar every night he’d gone since his first delivery. It was as though her magical cunt had rubbed off on him and everyone wanted a part of him. And that was great. But right now all he wanted was a part of her.

  He rang the doorbell and waited. She was always here on delivery days and she never kept him waiting. But there was no answer.

  The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and deep masculine moans mixed with husky feminine groans carried his feet to the side fence that led into the backyard.

  He opened the gate to find Mrs. Jones on one of the lounge chairs in the lap of a dark-haired man in a workman’s shirt. The two were lip locked. His hands roved her generous hips and pert ass with reverence. Each kiss she gave him he took as though it was the last morsel he’d ever receive.

  The man’s large fingers raised Mrs. Jones’ tiny top up and over her head. The brief second it took to remove the top, the man gulped down air, his face contorting in distaste. Then his lips were on her again as though it had been forever since he’d tasted her.

  Calvin knew the feeling. He hadn’t had his mouth on her in days. And now someone was in his place. But not just one someone.

  Another male came out of the garage. There were grass stains on his pant cuffs. Calvin noted that the two men were of Hispanic origin. From the looks of them, they were day workers. They’d likely cut the Joneses’ yard from the cut grass smell that wafted to his nose.

  The second man came beside the first and Mrs. Jones. He stripped down to nothing out in the middle of the yard in the late afternoon. Then he reached for Mrs. Jones.

  The first guy reluctantly released Mrs. Jones’ lips as the second man came down for a sip of her sweetness. Calvin knew all too well how sweet those lips were whether they were on his mouth or on his cock.

  A wave of jealousy stabbed through him as the two men both took one of her breasts into their mouths. Mrs. Jones spread her thighs open over the lounge chair and threw her arms over the back of the chair as two tongues circled each of her nipples.

  She didn’t close her eyes. Her gaze caught Calvin’s. Her lips spread in a welcoming smile. “You have a package for me, Calvin?”

  The two men’s heads came up and glared at him.

  “This is my delivery guy, Calvin. He brings me my toys. Come on inside, Calvin.”

  Calvin shut the gate behind him as he came to the trio.

  “This is Enrique and Carlos, they take care of my bush. Watch.”

  Mrs. Jones stood. The two men eyed her body like hungry wolves waiting for a morsel to be thrown their way. She shoved both of them down to their knees. Both Enrique’s and Carlos’ heads were in line with her hips. She parted her thighs.

  The men looked at her bare cunt and round ass with hunger. They spared Calvin one more fleeting glance and then they attacked her. One man, the one she’d pointed to as Enrique, took her pink folds into his mouth. While the other man, Carlos she’d said, parted her ass cheeks and circled her asshole with his tongue.

  Enrique licked at her cunt with the same hungry reverence as he had done her lips. His eyes closed, and he moaned his delight, pulling and tugging at her cunt and then pressing his whole mouth onto her clit.

  At the back, Carlos pulled her ass cheeks apart and flicked at her asshole. Up and down and round and round, he ran his tongue over the smaller, puckered hole. He turned his head to the side every other lick and bit at one of her plump ass cheeks.

  Both dark heads buried themselves between the apex of Mrs. Jones’ thighs as Calvin’s dick went rock hard with envy. Mrs. Jones trembled as the men pleased her from back to front. Both men locked their arms around her limbs, her hips, unwilling to let her get away.

  Finally, Carlos rose. He came to sit down on the chair. He tugged her shoulders to him and guided her head down onto his cock.

  The man’s tool was thick and Mrs. Jones strained to get her tiny mouth all the way around him. The veins of his dick throbbed every time her lips left his rod exposed, as though the blood ran in which ever direction her mouth went.

  Behind her Enrique took over ass duty. He entered one and then a second finger into her ass as his tongue continued to work around the rim. He stroked her ass with those two fingers, pumping her puckered hole open wider and wider. The opening grabbed at his knuckles as his tongue flicked around, spreading the wetness from his mouth until his spit and her juice were dripping down between her legs and dribbling all over his chin.

  Mrs. Jones lifted off Carlos’ dick with a pop. “Hey, Calvin, want to see what I taught them to do?” She flipped over so that she was laying breast and cunt up in Carlos’ lap. She spread her legs for Enrique. “Make me squirt, papi.”

  Enrique grinned as he bent over her cunt. Using the hand that hadn’t been in her ass, he inserted two, then three fingers into that pink piece of heaven. Mrs. Jones exhaled and rolled her hips open wider.

  Behind her, Calvin draped her thighs over his knees. Then he spread his thighs which spread Mrs. Jones wider.

  Down in front, Enrique began to pump his fingers in and out of her, fast, hard. It looked painful, but Mrs. Jones’ face transformed into something that surpassed ecstasy. The sounds Enrique’s fingers made as they assaulted her cunt were like the slurping of a milkshake. It reminded Calvin of the times he’d sucked off the drippings from his fingers when he’d gotten a turkey leg at Thanksgiving dinner.

  Calvin saw Mrs. Jones’ belly muscles tense as Enrique stroked faster yet, harder still. Her toes curled. Her legs began to shake, involuntarily trying to close. But Carlos spread her even wider.

  Mrs. Jones’ cries became desperate. Her eyes went glazed and unfocused. Enrique rocked into her so hard that all three of them shook on the chair.

  Calvin found his own knees quaking as he held his breath and waited. He knew something big was coming.

  Mrs. Jones held her breath for five seconds as her body tensed. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth formed a perfect O shape. The slurping, sucking wet sound grew louder. And then liquid spewed from Mrs. Jones’ cunt.

  Enrique didn’t stop as she squirted all over his fingers, down his wrist, across his chest. And still her juices flowed. Mrs. Jones caught her breath as she continued to gush. Once she had some air back in her, she let out a shaky scream. Her body shook and her knuckles went white as she held onto the edge of her seat.

  Enrique didn’t stop until the flow did. And the moment it did, the man descended on her soppy wet pussy like a vulture seeing its prey immobile on the ground. Carlos reached down and ran his fingers through her wet cunt and then suckled his dripping digits into his mouth.

  “You wanna try, Calvin?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones.”

  Enrique straightened slowly. He backed off Mrs. Jones’ sopping wet cunt reluctantly. Enrique backed off, but not away.

  Calvin knelt down beside him. He shouldered his way between Mrs. Jones thighs. The smell of her nectar nearly knocked him back, but the hell was he getting any further from the prize before him.

  The smell of her was heady, sweet and musky. Calvin ran his fingers through her wet cunt. Then he slipped one digit inside.

  She was softer than velvet. Warmer than the sun at his back. His meaty fingers were thicker than the man beside him, so he only worked two in before he felt her walls closing in on him.

  “More,” she demanded.

  Calvin worked to fit a third finger in. She winked at him and then her eyes closed.

  “Now, tilt your fingers up like you’re telling me to come here,” she said.

  Calvin did as he was told. She was tight around him, but she felt soft and sticky. With his fingers in the position she demanded, Calvin felt a spongy mass just inside her cunt at the front of her walls.

  “Rub it hard,” she said.

  It was a tight fit, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “Harder.”

  He did as he was told. After a couple of strokes, her body made way for him. He heard the slurping, wet kissing sounds. In his pants, h
is dick got even harder. He wanted to trade it for his fingers. But a moment later he was glad he hadn’t.

  Mrs. Jones let out another whimpering cry and Calvin was rewarded with a gush of liquid sweetness. It wasn’t the same color as the fluid that would’ve gushed from her like she was taking a piss. It wasn’t the thick, creamy fluid that would come as she orgasmed.

  It was something else. He didn’t know what, and he didn’t care. He leaned in and took a long lick as her body continued to shake and convulse around his invading fingers and now his demanding, thirsty tongue.

  Once Calvin had licked his fill he looked up to see that Carlos pinched one breast and took her mouth. Enrique took her other breast in his mouth as he reached below and played with her ass. Calvin continued to work his fingers in and out of Mrs. Jones’ tight cunt in the fast motion she desired.

  Before long, he saw her stomach muscles tightening again. He felt tremors starting in the walls surrounding his fingers. He felt her inner muscles pushing at him as he pushed back.

  Fuck. He wanted to take his fingers out of her and lick them clean. Instead, he kept the hard and fast strokes going. He dipped down and took her clit while he waited for the next gushing to splash all over his fingers, his face.

  Her muffled moans urged him on. The suckling wet sound filled his ears. She became wetter and wetter the harder he stroked, the more he sucked, and licked at her.

  Her cries became louder, shallower, more desperate. And then he was being pushed out of her cunt. Her muscles contracted harder than before and a tidal wave crashed into his fingers, his face.

  Calvin sighed. He began his decent to her dripping pussy, but someone got there before him. Enrique swooped in like a vulture and took a long lick. But the angled his face so that he was capturing the fluid as it went into her ass crack.

  Calvin saw that her clit was still exposed. Instead of fighting, he aimed his tongue for that tasty morsel. The two men licked her cunt clean as she squirmed.

  But she couldn’t close her legs. Not only because of the two heads devouring her, but also because of the man who held her open with his legs. She could only whimper and take the two tongues laving at her.