by Ben Boswell
Whatever It Takes
Ben Boswell
Whatever It Takes
Copyright © 2014 by Ben Boswell
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover image © Getty/iStockPhoto used under license
First digital edition electronically published by Ben Boswell, May 2014
First print edition published by Ben Boswell, May 2014
Printed by CreateSpace, Charleston SC
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without explicit written permission of the copyright holder.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
PREFACE
This book is a departure for me. Basically everything I've published in the past has been lodged very definitely within erotica genre conventions -- slut wives mostly, but occasionally stories focusing on non-consensual sex, erotic encounters, older man/younger women relationships. I've tried to create interesting twists on these themes, given some depth to the characters, but everything I've written before had the sex front and center. Plot served the sole purpose of justifying the banging.
In this book, though, the story stands, I think, I hope, on its own. It is still genre fiction, and it still contains explicit sex, making it erotica. But for the first time I think I've written a story where the sex serves the plot rather than the plot serving the sex.
I realize this is a risk. Erotica readers may find themselves wanting to "fast-forward" to the good parts. Readers of crime/caper fiction may be turned off by the explicit sex.
But here's the thing. This is the kind of story I would like to read. And ultimately, I write what I enjoy. I hope others will like it as well.
I owe a debt of gratitude to many people. First, I want to again thank Kenny Wright. A great author. Without his encouragement and support I would never have gotten into publishing eBooks. You can see his stuff at http://www.kennywriter.com.
I also want to thank Kirsten McCurran who provided some very valuable feedback on the first half of the book. Her books are available on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Kirsten-McCurran/e/B004ZV1SF6/.
And finally, I need to thank Julie P who copyedited out as many of my seemingly endless typos as possible. You can hire her at http://www.freelancer.com/u/jp2004.html.
I also want to express my tremendous gratitude to the many, many readers who wrote me in response to my last book, Two Sides of Terri. I love the praise, of course, but even more I was delighted by the number of people who wanted to discuss the plot, explore the motivations of the characters, share their own theories about what happened "off-screen." As an author, there is nothing more gratifying than having people interact that way with a story.
Finally, I want, need to thank my lovely wife for her support. I've been writing in secret for years. I finally "came out" to her after publishing Two Sides of Terri. She was surprised at first, but tremendously supportive. I am a very lucky man, and very grateful to be sharing my life with this open-minded and sexy woman.
Whatever It Takes
CHAPTER ONE
Saturday is family outing day for Kris, the kids, and me. Going out to the park to run around doesn't count as a family outing. Nor does hanging out at the neighborhood pool checking out the cute neighborhood moms in their bikinis – not that Kris would do such a thing, though I might.
No, in our family, a "family outing" has to be educational. Now, our kids are one-and-a-half and three. So "educational" is more theoretical than practical, but I guess Kris wants to establish the habit early.
Today's educational outing was to the zoo.
"No, don't turn there," Kris snapped from the passenger seat.
I knew better than to argue, even though there was a sign that clearly indicated a parking lot to the right.
"We want to park in the Blue lot," she continued. "It's closer to the penguins."
I looked over at Kris. She was peering at a fully annotated map of the zoo. She had our entire visit plotted, probably including bathroom and snack breaks. Kris liked to plan things out. It was one of her most prominent characteristics.
She was also showing off an impressive demonstration of the "seatbelt effect," the shoulder strap wedged sexily between her full breasts. This was another of her prominent characteristics.
We put Todd in the stroller and Suzie grabbed a hold of my hand. She's already a Daddy's girl, for which I'm profoundly grateful. It's funny. I was so nervous about having kids. But from the very instant she emerged, blotchy and crying, I couldn't imagine life without her. I love Todd just as much, of course. But Suzie will always be my little angel.
We followed the itinerary Kris had set, which allowed us to see three animal shows and feedings, spend quality time with the prairie dogs (Suzie's favorite), and still make it back to the car before Todd’s nap time. And all of that without backtracking at all. That's the thing about Kris' obsessive planning, it is hard to criticize since it so often works out so well.
She’d always been like that, or at least for as long as I’d known her. Which was forever. Though we’re only thirty-one, Kris and I have been together almost eighteen years. We started dating in junior high school.
She was a cute, somewhat nerdy kid, always top of the class, something of a teacher's pet, I guess, and not very popular. I was a bit of a wiseass, though I still did well in school. I made her laugh. I was small for my age. Not real popular either, but had a circle of gamer buddies. I was a little shy. She liked that, and she also liked that I never pressured her.
I’m still that same kid, in a way. I’m taller now, just a touch under six feet, but still real slim. More and more that seems to be a good thing. I have sandy hair, thinning a little, but not receding. I definitely fit in with my fellow engineers. She’s a real beauty, in that girl-next-door, rarely-wear-any-makeup kind of way. Most people would be shocked at how voluptuous she is under her conservative attire.
I sighed. I often wished she’d let go, relax, have fun. But that wasn’t her style. There was always a plan to follow.
_____
Todd had fallen asleep in the car, so I carried him inside. He’s at that age where it would take a nuclear explosion to wake him. Unfortunately, that’s what I walked in on. Kris’ sister Jessi was in the house and multitasking, which in this case meant talking on the phone, while surfing the web on my computer, and blasting music.
I gritted my teeth and waved my free arm to try to get her attention. She gave me a put-upon shrug as I gestured for her to turn down the volume.
As I walked him up the stairs and gently put Todd down, I quietly seethed at Jessi. Kris was nine years older than Jessi and had often played the role of surrogate mother to her troublesome
little sister. She'd bailed her out, both literally and figuratively, many times. And now that Jessi was in trouble and that we had a house with space for a boarder, it was almost inevitable that she would come live with us. She’d actually stayed once with us years before, but that had been temporary. This was more open-ended.
Jessi has always been a handful. Even when she was nine she was getting into trouble, stealing money from her dad's wallet, raiding the liquor cabinet. She developed early. By twelve she already had long legs and was otherwise physically mature for her age. She loved the attention she got from men as a result.
The first huge blowup occurred when Jessi was thirteen. Her parents walked in on her banging a nineteen-year-old in her bedroom. The kid managed to escape before her dad got his shotgun out of the gun safe. They threatened to get the kid arrested for statutory rape, until Jessi responded that if they did, she'd made sure they had to lock up the entire male population of the town, a threat she punctuated by letting herself get caught with a twenty-one year old the following week.
They tried the "not under my roof" rule, but that only led to their now-fourteen year-old daughter getting arrested for indecent exposure and public drunkenness in the park. She also got into drugs. First pot, and then harder stuff. As part of her behavioral problems, she got a prescription for Ritalin, at least until her folks caught her crushing the pills and snorting them.
Her parents had kicked her out of the house at sixteen, and she'd bounced around from one place to another since. A beautiful girl with a rather flexible sense of morality, she had no trouble finding a warm bed. There was always some dude willing to lend her money, give her a place to sleep, car rides. She wasn't completely dependent on them, however. She always had some scam running, and of course, the minute she turned eighteen, she started stripping.
Her latest situation blew up when her boyfriend, or whatever, was busted for cocaine possession. She'd ended up with us because Kris decided it was time to intervene.
_____
I knew I shouldn't be doing it. It was definitely a betrayal of trust, a violation of privacy. But fuck it, if they didn't want to be spied on, then how come they were making so much damn noise?
Jessi was with her latest tattooed freak. We’d put her in the au pair suite, so she was able to come and go as she pleased. And she came and went a lot, returning several times over the first few weeks to have loud, aggressive sex. It almost felt like she was doing it precisely to rub it in our faces, even though we'd gone out of our way to take her in after her latest life blowup.
She'd grown into a stunning woman. Five-foot eight, she had small natural breasts, a tiny waist, and impossibly, long, toned legs. Kris and Jessi definitely look like sisters, although Kris is less showy, a little shorter, and much curvier. And while they share facial features, Kris has the conventional good looks—thick light brown hair, big, brown doe eyes and a roundish face. Jessi got the more exotic traits from the gene pool—high cheekbones, hazel eyes, and somewhat lanky, mahogany brown hair that she almost always kept dyed. It was currently almost reddish with a subtle tinge of violet.
Never subdued in dress, Jessi's clothes came in two sizes, tight and tighter. She had a bunch of tattoos, a constellation of stars on her right shoulder blade, a salamander coiled around her right thigh, and some Sanskrit poem on her left ribcage. Happily she'd never gotten into the whole piercing thing. She was, in short, an exotic, sensuous creature.
And, from what I could tell, she fucked like a demon. Tonight she was with her latest muscle-bound meathead. She’d always gone through men like a chainsaw. This one was definitely her type. She had brought him over several times. With his ‘roided out physique, tribal tattoos, close-cropped hair and jaw-line beard, he looked like a refugee from Sons of Anarchy.
But despite his intimidating look, he might as well have been a prop. All the covers had been torn off the bed. He was lying on his back, and she was riding him like a woman possessed. Reverse cowgirl, with her hands resting on his abs, and face to the ceiling, she rode his thick cock hard enough that it looked like an accident waiting to happen. He didn’t seemed worried. He was mauling her titties, urging her on, relishing the feel of his cock sliding into her shaved snatch over and over.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she growled.
"Yeah," he gurgled, "fuck me you dirty girl."
They'd been at it for a long time. I'd heard them pull into the drive nearly forty minutes earlier, and I'd heard them start fucking soon after. For twenty minutes I lay in bed beside Kris, until my curiosity again got the better of me and I decided to go for a look. I snuck out of bed, crept past the kids' rooms. Then down the stairs, through the TV room in the basement, to the au pair suite in the back of the house.
The au pair suite has a small sitting room, a kitchenette and bedroom. None of the doors were locked. It was as if Jessi and her lover were hoping to be spied on. And I guess if I could fuck like that, or looked like that, maybe I'd be tempted to do the same.
Their sex was rough, their passion palpable. Though her lover had been passive earlier, he suddenly took charge. He grabbed her by the throat and began hammering her violently from below. His cock was a blur, the sound of it churning into her cunt, wet and obscene.
“Oh yeah,” she grunted. “Fuck me, you fucking bastard.”
Her body flopped around like a rag doll, beads of sweat arcing off her face as she swung her head back and forth. Then suddenly he paused. She was gasping for breath like she’d just run a sprint.
When he began thrusting again it was with long, deep slow strokes. Jessi’s tight, bare pussy looked so obscene, stretched out by his thick tool. Each time he filled her, he paused, and she ground herself against him, obviously relishing the sensation of being so completely filled. He reached down and began rubbing her clit slowly.
Her excitement built, moment by moment. She was gasping, moaning, coming closer and closer. When she climaxed, it was like a dam bursting. She let out a long, low hiss, and then convulsed on top of him, her abdominal muscles rippling, her face first scrunching into a tight grimace and then relaxing into a luminous smile.
“Oh fuck, that was good,” she sighed.
He let her enjoy it for a few more seconds, then he said, “My turn.”
With that he lifted her off him and deposited her on her back. He rolled on top of her and wedged her legs over his shoulders.
“Put it in,” he ordered.
She obediently stroked his cock and then placed against her pussy. With a violent thrust, he buried himself inside her. She gasped and threw back her head. He didn’t hesitate. Instead he began to pound her relentlessly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she cried out, louder and louder.
I couldn’t help myself. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life. I began rubbing myself through my pajama bottoms in time with his strokes.
“Where do you want it?” he asked.
She didn’t hesitate.
“I wanna taste it,” she cooed.
That was apparently the right answer for him. With surprising grace for a big man, he scampered to the top of the bed. Jessi stared right at his cock and opened her mouth wide. He stroked himself once, twice, and then fired a thick rope of come across her tongue. He added two more spurts into her open mouth. Seeing Jessi with a mouthful of jism was too much. I came hard, filling my own pants.
“Nice aim,” Jessi giggled after swallowing his load.
He laughed.
“I have had lots of practice jerking myself off.” he replied. A drop of come dripped onto her cheek. He wiped it off with his fingertip. She grabbed his wrist and licked it off.
“I want every drop.”
She sucked lewdly on his digits and reached out for his cock. He ran his other hand down over her body, over her perky tits, her flat belly. He found her sex and plunged two thick fingers inside her.
“You want more?”
; She gave him a lewd grin as she nodded her head. “Always.”
Then as they prepared for round two, I slunk away, got cleaned up and climbed back into bed with my wife.
CHAPTER TWO
As I’ve said, my life with Kris was as much in control as Jessi's was out of control. That included sex. It was a year of "dating" -- if that is what you call it when two thirteen-year-olds hang out together -- before we even kissed. And I didn't get to second base with her until we were sixteen. That was one of our first fights. Not because I'd tried anything, but because I'd lied to my buddies about it, claiming that I'd been playing with her big boobies for years. She said I'd made her feel like a whore.
Still, we stayed together all through high school and then went to college together. After a year in freshman dorms, we got engaged and moved in together in "couples housing."
There was no question of sex, of course that whole time. At first, Kris had talked about waiting for marriage, and I was willing to go along with that. But ultimately, we decided to take the step once we were engaged and living together.
It was expectedly awkward at first. Even though we'd been a couple for six years already, once our clothes were off it was almost like we were strangers. But we got better at it, figured out how to please each other. And even though I sometimes wonder what it would be like with other women, I also love knowing that we have this amazing gift of knowing that every sexual experience we've had we've experienced together.
Still, it was a little hard not to question the value of that gift when confronted with a performance like I'd seen in the au pair suite. Kris and I had experimented a little with different positions, and oral was an important part of our sex lives. But we were pretty conventional. Half the time missionary, the other half with her on top, but always face-to-face, kissing, cuddling, making love.