“Randy Mercer.”
“Will his parents be there to chaperone?”
“No”
“You’re not going.”
“What? I am eighteen—”
“September, you’re under my fucking roof and your ass is not going,” he reiterates sharply, pointing his finger at me, “End of discussion.”
“Fine,” I reply with a pout, stomping my foot for good measure. “I can’t do shit around this place anyway. Goodnight.”
I leave the room all the while knowing that his eyes are piercing a hole through my backside. I feel a smile play on my lips as I close the door with a slight slam so that he realizes the depth of my irritation at being treated as an adolescent, and not the woman that I’ve become. I crawl beneath the covers of my bed.
And I wait.
It’s maybe an hour later when I hear my bedroom door open and close again quietly. I feel the bed dip with his weight, and the covers are lifted so that a totally naked Jesse can slide beneath them with me.
His hands run smoothly over my skin, massaging gently as his lips play a soft seductive song on mine. My arms encircle his neck, and I run my fingernails lightly over the hard muscles of his back, right over the beautiful serpent tat that he has.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, between soft kisses that are now making a trail from my shoulders to the swell of my breasts.
“No—should I be?”
“I just don’t want you going to parties like that. Something bad could happen to you.”
“Like what?”
“Like this,” he says huskily, moving over to my side. He takes my hand and leads it down to his hard-muscled erection, and then places my hand on it, his hand leaving mine. My fingers wrap around his girth and I marvel at how something so hard feels velvety soft on the outside.
My fingers massage all around, going from root to tip and in the dark, I can feel that clear bead of pre-cum that forms. Jesse has expertly managed to remove my nightgown and panties, and his calloused hands are framing my hips, raising me up and over his face where his tongue works its magic on the folds of my pussy, thoroughly exploring every layer, and his teeth nip gently at my swollen clit.
I moan softly, rotating my hips as he continues to lave and suckle at my core.
“Fuck me, Jesse,” I whisper hoarsely.
He lowers me gently down onto his stomach, and I hear the sound of the condom wrapper being ripped open, and I can feel the movements of his arms and hands as he gets it rolled down onto his stiff cock.
His hands once again brace my hips and he lifts me up and over him, settling me down onto his erection. I moan softly again.
“We’ve got to be quiet, September. We can’t wake Scout, hear?”
“Ummhmm,” I say, lowering my mouth to his as I start to move up and down slowly on his prick. He kisses me, and then moves me up so that one of my breasts is accessible to his mouth, and he roughly takes it into his mouth, suckling hard on it.
“I love your fucking tits,” he says, “And you love flaunting them around me, don’t you, baby?”
“I don’t mean to,” I reply softly.
“Like hell,” he rasps, taking the other one into his mouth, all the while his hands are cupping my ass, rolling me up and down on his erection.
I can feel my pussy clenching him and I know that neither one of us is going to last much longer.
His rhythm increases, his hips bucking up, his hands braced tighter on my hips as he rolls me up and down, and then swivels so the tip of his cock is hitting my special spot. I’m biting my lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, and my tempo increases to match his.
“Fuck,” he says, his breathing ragged. “That’s my girl. Keep fucking me just like that.”
“I’m ready to come,” I whine, my hips rocking back and forth.
“It’s fine, baby,” he says, his mouth finding mine because he knows how loud I can get when I’m having my pleasure with him. His tongue mates with mine, muffling my loud moans so they sound more like soft whimpers escaping me.
Jesse’s coming now and his masculine groans reverberate against my neck as he continues to come again and again. “God,” he growls. “This is mine and only mine.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I love you, Jesse.”
After that night, Jesse is no longer reluctant to make late night visits to my room once Scout is asleep. We enjoy our secret sex, and I in particular enjoy the things he teaches me.
Just last night, he patiently tutored me in the fine art of delivering a mind-boggling blowjob.
“Are you ready to learn something new, September?” he asked, his eyes having a heady and sort of teasing look going on, as I came in my room with a towel wrapped around me. He’d been waiting for me.
“Game on,” I replied, giving him a cocky smile. I had no clue what he meant.
He stood up in his beautiful, muscular nakedness, his cock already erect. “Come here,” he ordered softly. “And drop the towel.”
I let the towel slip and went to stand before him. He gazed down at me, both love and lust evident in his sapphire blue eyes. He laced one of his hands behind my head, and drew my face closer to his, his lips possessing mine tenderly, his tongue teasing mine. I could feel his steel-hard erection probing between my legs.
“Does he want to do it standing up?” I thought, but then with one gentle move, I understood his intention.
He placed his hands on each of my shoulders, and gently pressed me down. “On your knees, woman.”
I obeyed and was face to tip of his raging erection.
“I’ve never . . . “ I stutter, flushing with embarrassment.
“I know, September. That’s fine. I’ll guide you through this.”
I nodded, very solemnly, hoping like hell I didn’t screw it up.
“Okay, place your hand on it, slowly and gently let your palm and fingers travel up and then down the length of it. When your fingers get close to the tip, massage the ridge of foreskin—again, gentleness, but deliberation is key here.”
I do as instructed, loving the feel of softness covering rock-hardness. It’s somehow a contradiction in terms. I take my time, letting my fingers play lightly while massaging his firmness.
I hear him suck in his breath.
“Is...is this okay?” I question, looking up at him.
He’s watching me with shuttered eyes, his tongue flickers across his lower lip. He nods and says, “It feels great, baby. Now with your other hand, reach underneath and cup my balls—again, gentleness is key, but massage them, show them some love. You’ll feel them tighten up when I’m ready to come, but you’re not through with your training just yet.”
I do as instructed, and I can tell by Jesse’s breathing that he’s enjoying it so far.
“Okay, now put your tongue to use, let it roll slowly down the length of my dick, swirl it a bit, and lick now and then so that I can feel the warm moistness of your mouth making love to it. Like I do with your pussy.”
Got it.
I follow his instructions, finding myself melt into him because this is pleasurable to me, more than I ever realized it could be. I’m the one in power; I’m the one delivering the pleasure to my man’s cock, and I love the fact that I’m in control.
He doesn’t need to instruct further because my feminine instincts have taken over. I roll my tongue down the length and back to the tip, while my hands massage his shaft and his balls gently.
I’m rewarded when I feel him roll back on his heels and release a manly groan. His hands are now fisting in my hair.
My mouth travels back up to the tip, and the small clear bead of pre-cum is glistening. I swirl my tongue over, capturing it and then I pull his cock inside of my mouth, taking him deeper, swirling my tongue around and around. My hands move to the back of his ass, pulling him in deeper while I suck his root, and then allowing my mouth to travel back to the tip, lightly nipping at the ridge of skin that is so tende
r. Kind of like my clit by his body movements and moans.
I take him deeper, feeling the head of his cock nudge my tonsils and then back out, again and again. I love the wet, sucking sound that permeates the room, along with his fast breathing and deep groans of pleasure.
“September,” he rasps, “Fuck you better stop. I’m ready to blow my load.”
I nod my head back and forth; my mouth is full of Jesse so I can’t speak. I won’t stop what I’m doing because we’ve worked up a great rhythm, his hips are bucking back and forth; his hands are fisting my hair even harder as his breathing is coming rapid and shallow now.
My nails are raking the flesh of his ass, as I continue to draw him in and out.
“Fuck,” he growls as he’s pumping in to me full force. He stiffens then, and he releases a primal groan. I feel his cock throbbing and pulsing, and then the thick, warm stream of cum shoots into my mouth, again, and again, and again. I keep swallowing and swallowing, loving the fact that this is mine. All mine.
I lick the last drop and his balls relax now that they’ve emptied his seed into me. His cock is softening and Jesse pulls it from my mouth. “It’s real sensitive once I come,” he explains.
I nod. I’m pleased with myself. “How’d I do?” I ask, grinning up at his beautiful face.
“You’re a natural babe. You’re every man’s dream, and God you’re mine. You’re a keeper.”
So now I actually like the power-rush I feel every time I take him into my mouth, knowing that I hold the key to his future between my lips.
Chapter 17
* * *
Several days later, Scout slams into the house and tosses her backpack on the kitchen table. There’s no doubt about it. She’s royally pissed!
“What’s the matter with you?” I ask, looking up from my Algebra homework.
“I did what you said I should do. I went over to Catherine’s today and it’s not like you thought. Casey’s not having another bad day, September. She says she doesn’t want Catherine hanging around with me at all.”
Tears are forming in her eyes and it makes me want to go next door and snatch the bitch up and shake the snot out of her.
“Well why would she say that?”
“She said to ask you!”
The hell?
“What?”
She repeats it even though I heard her the first time.
“Look Scout, I don’t know what she’s talking about. You wait here and let me see if I can find out what’s up her ass, okay?”
She nods her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
I make tracks next door, pounding none too quietly on the front door. Casey opens it, eyeing me with cold disdain. “Yes?”
“Casey, Scout just came home in tears because for some reason you don’t want her around Catherine anymore, and you won’t tell her why.”
“I believe that I told her to ask you.”
“Okay and she did and I’m clueless.”
“You’re pure trash,” she snaps, “and I’m sure that comes from the maternal side of the family which Scout shares. I don’t want my daughter associating with trash!”
Hell no she didn’t just say that!
I take a deep breath, knowing that for right this minute, I need to be the adult here. But it’s hard. It’s really fucking hard. “I don’t know where all this is coming from, Casey, but whatever your reasons are for lashing out—”
She interrupts me with a twisted, bitter laugh. “You conniving piece of trash. You set me up and I finally figured out why. Maybe you need to keep your goddam blinds closed in the kitchen when you and step-daddy get to playing hide the wienie on your kitchen table!”
I can feel my eyes widen and jaw drop with her accusatory words. Before I fully process what she’s said, she slams back inside of her house.
She fucking saw us. She was watching through the window. Touché bitch.
I know inside that Casey isn’t done with us. Her bitterness is apparent, and the rage that she feels against me and probably Jesse too, has not begun to cool and temper yet.
I hurry back home; the cool end-of-October air is sobering even though I’m not drunk. I’m being forced into a reality check that I don’t want.
I don’t want to think about the harm she might cause for Scout.
Once inside, I look into Scout’s blue eyes and I know that she’s waiting for me to explain it to her. She’s hopeful that her older sister has gone over to Catherine’s and somehow made everything all right again for her.
That’s what big sisters are supposed to do.
Not carry on the way that I’ve been carrying on with Jesse.
Her daddy.
The only stable person that she’s had in her life since our mother took off four years ago.
“Scout,” I say, “I guess Casey doesn’t feel that we’re good enough people to associate with, but it’s mostly me, not you.”
She knits a brow, clearly confused. How do I explain it to her without telling her the truth?
“You see, Casey feels like maybe my being here, and living here like I have been, has kept her from being your daddy’s real good friend.”
“But that’s stupid,” she replies. “You’re my sister. You’re not Dad’s girlfriend.”
“I’m your half-sister, Scout. You realize that your daddy—Jesse, well that he’s not my dad, don’t you?”
“Well yes,” she says giving me an eye roll. “I know that.”
I have no clue where the hell I was going with this, but for now I feel that’s all she needs to know. “So anyway,” I continue, “If she wants to be stupid like that then you know what? It’s their loss because you are one great kid.”
“But I miss Catherine,” she whines, clearly not getting the outcome she hoped to get.
“You still have Amber as a friend, right?”
She nods.
“And who knows? Maybe all this stupid stuff of Casey’s will blow over and things will be back to the way they were before. How about you just give it some time, okay?”
“Okay,” she acquiesces, “Thanks for trying.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” I call after her.
And my heart just breaks a little bit. This is my fault. I’ve no one else to blame except for me. My selfishness and my utter greed to have Jesse have started to alienate Scout from kids her own age. It won’t be long before she hears the trash talk. Kids will overhear their parents because I have no doubts Casey will spread her poison. Then what do I say?
I dig my cell phone out of my purse and pull up the directory, find the name and hit “call.”
She answers on the third ring.
“Hey Gram,” I greet, trying my damnedest to put a cheerful tone in my voice, “How have you and Grandpa been doing?”
Chapter 18
* * *
November is both Scout and Jesse’s birthday month. Scout’s is November 7th and Jesse’s is November 10th so I’m planning a dual celebration for November 8th. It’s a Saturday and I want this year’s birthdays to be extra special for the both of them.
It’s my first November with them since living here.
It’s my last November here.
I’ve been keeping in touch with Gram quite a bit; laying the groundwork for my return to Meridian without making it look like something’s changed or some sort of drama has unfolded.
I tell her how much I still miss her and Grandpa, and that I still get pangs of homesickness for Meridian.
“Well honey, I’m sure Jesse will understand if you wanna come back home.”
“He’s got a lot to deal with right now, Gram. He needs my help with Scout. Maybe before Christmas it will be better. That way, I can leave between semesters, come back during winter break.”
“Whatever you think is best, honey. We sure do miss you. That private investigator hasn’t found out a damn thing about your Mama. I’m starting to
think Jesse and us are just throwing good money after bad.”
I was taken aback by this information. “What investigator?” I ask.
“Oh, didn’t he tell you? We all pooled our money together a couple of months back and hired some investigator out of Nogales, Arizona. Hoping he could dig up information on Libby with that passport the Mexican authorities had, along with the personal effects of whoever it was in the jail down there. He’s trying to locate that Martinez fellow she supposedly married. So far—we got zip.”
“No—I didn’t know,” I reply, feeling duped. Not that Jesse owes me any explanation for what he does with his money, but still, she is my mother.
And his wife.
“Well, he probably didn’t want you getting your hopes up in case this guy came up dry, which kinda looks like what’s happening. But we’ll see. He’s got a few more weeks on our payroll and if nothing turns up—well, we’ll cross that bridge then I reckon.”
“Okay Gram, well I’ll call you next week. Love you and please tell Grandpa I love him.”
“Will do, honey.”
It’s Thursday evening and Shayla picks me up to go shopping at the mall. I’ve told her about the birthday party I’ve planned for Jesse and Scout on Saturday, and since she is practically a professional shopper, I need her expertise. Not so much where Scout is concerned, because she’s turning nine and that’s easy.
Jesse is a different story.
He’s turning thirty, and I have no clue what to buy for a man turning thirty. I’ve tried to ask him in a roundabout way what he likes as far as clothes, or sports, or whatever, but his answers are usually grumbled.
I’ve not told him about the situation with Casey and what transpired. I don’t want him mad—or worse yet, worried. So far, nothing more has been said and it’s been a week and a half since the incident. Scout seems to have gotten over it once Halloween came and went. Now Amber is officially her new best friend.
“So what’s on your list for Scout?” Shayla asks as we head into the toy store.
“Barbie Dream House and the Ty set of My Little Pony.”
Loving Jesse Page 9