by Robin Gideon
“If you think I’m incapacitated now, you should have seen me then.” He started to chuckle, and then immediately grimaced and put a hand to his ribs. “Do not make me laugh. My ribs hurt like hell.”
“Is there anything I can do you for?”
“In the living room is a walnut bureau. Inside it is pretty much a full bar. Put ice in a water tumbler, then fill that tumbler with Jack Daniels.”
“Seriously? A water tumbler?”
“You’ll find them in the kitchen.”
She did as instructed, and then returned with a smile on her face. “I’ve served men singles, doubles, but never a triple. This one might even have four shots in it. I don’t even know what that would be called.”
He took it from her with a grateful sigh and took a sip. When Bobbi Jo sat on the edge of the bed near his hip with one leg up on the mattress and the other toe on the floor, her miniskirt pulled up higher. Since it was quite short to begin with, she was showing all of her right leg nearly to her panties. His gaze went down to her legs and lingered there. Bobbi Jo was torn between the conflicting urges to flash him a peek at her panties, and moving off the bed to get out of touching distance.
“Taste good?” she asked after an uncomfortable silence.
“Jack always tastes good, but tonight he’s going to be an extra special friend by taking the sharp edge off this pain.” He sighed. “It’s good to have friends.”
“I wish there was something more I could do for you,” Bobbi Jo said.
Jacob’s blue gaze lifted sharply and met hers. Bobbi Jo’s double entendre had been an accident, but once she’d spoken it, she couldn’t make it simply disappear.
The silence that followed was unbearable. Unable to think of anything innocuous to say, Bobbi Jo touched the underside of the water tumbler and urged the glass to Jacob’s lips.
“It’s not going to kill any pain with it still in the glass,” she said. “It’s got to get into your stomach to do any good.”
She watched him take several swallows in a row. He’d always been a man who just sipped his drinks—until now.
“My mother would spin in her grave if she ever caught me drinking whiskey out of a water glass.”
“Let me top that off for you,” she said when the glass was just half-empty. She needed to get far enough away from him so that she couldn’t see him. It was the only way she’d ever be able to catch her breath.
She filled the glass with ice and liquor once again, breathed deeply several times to calm her jittery nerves, and then returned to Jacob’s bedroom. She again sat on the edge of his bed, but this time she raised her knee just a little higher than before.
“Oops,” she said, tugging the hem of her skirt down. She was certain she’d given him a glimpse of her panties. What she wasn’t certain of was whether it had been an accident or if that’s exactly what she had meant to do. “Maybe I should wear one of those Naughty Nurse costumes they have for Halloween.”
She looked down, and when she did, the breath caught in her throat. Sticking through the fly of Jacob’s loose-fitting boxer shorts was a formidable erection that was growing longer and thicker by the second.
“I’m sorry,” Jacob said.
Bobbi Jo looked him in the eyes and replied, “I’m not.”
Chapter 4
“Enjoy your drink,” Bobbi Jo said, her voice a low, sensual purr. “And I’ll enjoy this.”
She reached for his cock and curled her fingers slowly around the thick shaft. When she squeezed it, the head pulsed visibly, and the flesh became noticeably longer and thicker.
It’s been so long since I’ve touched a man. It’s been even longer since I’ve wanted to.
With his free hand, Jacob reached for her, but Bobbi Jo stopped him short.
“The doctor was very specific. Nothing strenuous.” She gave him a wicked smile, the kind of smile she hadn’t given anyone in a long, long time. “Just relax and enjoy your drink. It’s been quite a while for me, but I think I still remember how to do this.”
As she stroked him, running her hand from the base all the way up to the very tip, she looked straight into his eyes.
What does he think of me now?
Bobbi Jo didn’t want to consider things like that. She was behaving in a manner entirely unlike her more rational, less passionate self. This was a part of her character she hadn’t known about. She considered that perhaps it had always been inside her, but she’d just never let it free.
Or, more likely, it’s Jacob that makes me want to be this way.
“Drink,” Bobbi Jo said, and once again with her free hand tilted the glass full of whiskey up toward his mouth. She felt a twinge of insecurity go through her, knowing that Jacob was a man of prodigious experience in sensual matters while she herself was not virginal but was by no measure “experienced.”
Jacob resisted. There was confusion in his blue eyes.
“If you’re not going to drink, I’m not going to continue.”
Jacob took a healthy swallow of his whiskey.
Bobbi Jo inhaled deeply for courage, bent to the side, kissed the crown of Jacob’s cock three times, and then pushed her lips over it. It was the first time she had tasted a man’s most intimate flesh in months. More significantly, it was the first time she’d really wanted to in approximately forever.
“Ohhh.”
It was a rich, deep, masculine sound that sort of rumbled out of Jacob’s chest before making its way slowly but inexorably to Bobbi Jo’s clit. Nothing could have sounded better to her at that moment than to hear the music of the handsome man’s sensual satisfaction.
She tightened her lips around the shaft, just behind the head. He was thick. She couldn’t push her lips very far down the shaft before the spongy crown was pressing tightly against the opening of her throat. Swirling her tongue slowly, she pulled up, feeling the flesh throb between her lips.
Bobbi Jo heard him take a sip of whiskey, and then sigh. This time the sound was a little different than before.
Sipping a good whiskey while getting a good blow job. That’s got to be every man’s fantasy. But another thought went through her, and this one made her stop and briefly close her eyes more tightly shut. Please, please, please let me be the first one to suck your cock while you sip your cocktail.
Forcing insecurities from her mind, Bobbi Jo twisted a little on the edge of the mattress to get into a better position to accomplish the mission she’d set upon. She reminded herself to be careful for his ribs. The slightest jostling of the mattress seemed to cause him significant pain.
She began bobbing slowly up and down. Leaning sideways at the mattress’s edge, her ponytail fell down the side of her face.
“Move your hair away,” Jacob said, quietly but with the aristocratic confidence of a man who has said the same thing before, and is always obeyed. “You’re so beautiful. I want to be able to see you.”
The word “beautiful” sounded as sweet as anything Bobbi Jo had ever heard. She tossed her ponytail so that it was over the opposite shoulder and wouldn’t hide her face. Then she slowly filled her mouth with Jacob’s masculinity, nibbling lightly with her lips on the pulsing shaft. She didn’t stop until he threatened to enter her throat, and that was something she couldn’t do. Reaching between his powerful thighs, she squeezed his balls through the cotton of his boxers, eliciting another low groan of pleasure from Jacob.
“Bobbi Jo…”
With her mouth filled with him, Bobbi Jo turned her face and looked up into his eyes. She knew she must have presented a terribly lewd image at that moment.
“I’m feeling selfish. I’m a guy who prides himself on giving as good as he gets.”
She released him, and then licked from the base all the way to the tip.
“Shhh,” Bobbi Jo shushed, her lips nuzzling the underside of the cock’s crown. “I’m to make sure you follow doctor’s orders. Don’t be in any hurry. I want you to finish with that”—she nodded toward his nightcap—“at the same
time I finish with this.”
He smiled, and Bobbi Jo felt a surge of confidence go through her. She’d never spoken to anyone like that, and yet now she was doing so with a man she hadn’t even kissed on the mouth. She wondered what had come over her to make her behave so boldly, and then tried to push all thoughts out of her head so that she could concentrate entirely on giving the best blow job of her life.
* * * *
Not in a thousand years did I ever think I’d see Bobbi Jo like that, Jacob thought. He started to take another sip of his drink, and then stopped himself. If Bobbi Jo wanted to continue doing what she was doing for a long time, then he was more than willing to oblige her. Besides, he could feel the liquor in his stomach now, warming his blood as it smoothed the jagged edges of the pain that still flowed through him.
She was on her right hip, with her knee up on the bed. Her panties were white, and they were bikini-style. Jacob took a sip of whiskey and wondered if Bobbi Jo waxed all the hair off her pussy, or if she kept some on. He couldn’t tell from his current position, though he was certain that she kept herself—at the very least—neatly trimmed. The panties didn’t hide much, so if there was any hair, there couldn’t be much of it.
Her left hand was around the base of his cock. With her right hand, she squeezed and caressed his balls as she nodded up and down slowly. He watched as her cheek hollowed when she drew a particularly firm suction on him, and he felt the tingling in his balls grow just a little more insistent. He wasn’t on the verge of coming, but his body was distinctly aware of everything the voluptuous young blonde was doing to it.
Does she swallow, he wondered, or will she jerk me off so that I come all over myself? I hate it when women do that, though I never say anything about it afterward.
His gaze went from her face down to her breasts. The white blouse she wore, rolled up and tied into a halter to expose her midriff, caused her breasts to tremble, one atop the other, in her position.
Gorgeous goddamned tits, he thought. I’ve seen her nipples poking out through that halter, and they looked as delicious cherries. When she hurries to pass around beers, they wiggle and sway and probably give half the guys at Wings & Things hard-ons.
He suddenly felt a pang of anger, and it took a couple seconds for him to realize he didn’t like the thought of Bobbi Jo causing other men to get erections. Jealousy was not an emotion Jacob was accustomed with.
He watched as the crown of his arousal slipped between her lips. She pulled up high enough so she could use the tip of her tongue against his slit, and when she did, the erotic jolt that went through him made him flinch enough that his ribs started hurting again.
Bobbi Jo released him completely, and her eyes were huge when she asked, “Did I hurt you? I’m sooo sorry.”
Jacob shook his head. Even if his ribs were completely on fire and he couldn’t breathe, the last thing he’d ask her to do was stop.
“Everything’s perfect,” he said, acting far more nonchalant than he really felt. “You’re magnificent.” He was pleased that the last comment was true.
She smiled at him, and then with a theatrical flourish, lewdly lapped at his crown, sticking her tongue far out of her mouth. Jacob knew she was doing this as much for him to see her as to feel her, and that told him she was very serious about making him a very happy man.
Even his toes started to tingle.
He took another sip of whiskey, and then checked his glass. There was plenty of ice, but only a couple sips of liquor left. The pain in his body was now sufficiently dulled, and the drowsing effects of the whiskey he welcomed with open arms.
Once again with her lips erotically stretched around his throbbing cock flesh, Bobbi Jo looked into his eyes, and then turned her gaze to his glass. He saw the twinkle come into her eyes, and knew what it meant.
Now, instead of just using her lips and tongue on him, she stroked him as well. It effectively doubled the pleasure she provided. Before she had been sucking with skill, but for amusement. Now she was giving a blow job with purpose.
* * * *
He can’t last much longer.
Bobbi Jo filled her mouth with all that she could hold, and then rotated her face around Jacob’s cock. His thighs were tense, and she could feel that his entire body was rigid.
The only warning she got was, “Bobbi Jo…”
The deluge began a moment later. Bobbi Jo had been holding his crown against the back of her mouth, so when the first jet of cum went straight down her throat, she choked and sputtered, but she managed to swallow the eruption anyway. Jacob’s powerful body shivered on the bed as a second and third eruption splattered against her tongue and the roof of her mouth.
Bobbi Jo swallowed again, and then again. She felt Jacob’s entire body go lax. It was as though she had sucked all the tension, all the strain, all the pain, right out of him.
She let the crown slip from between her lips. She squeezed the shaft from the base to the tip, and a final pearl of liquid formed at the slit. She glanced up at Jacob to make sure he was watching, and then she licked the cum off, drawing a long, slow moan of pleasure from him.
“Now finish your drink, then get some sleep,” she said, almost matter-of-factly as she pushed herself upright. She waited until he’d drained his glass before she took it from him. “How are your pillows? Are you comfortable?”
“You’re my Florence Nightingale.”
“Now close your eyes,” she said before exiting the bedroom.
Once out of the bedroom, she put the glass to her lips and poured the remnants of the drink into her mouth. There wasn’t much whiskey left, but of what there was, she swirled around in her mouth, killing the taste of the cum. It was a taste she didn’t like, but the expression in Jacob’s eyes, after she’d swallowed all the passion he had for her, was all the reward she had hoped for.
She went into the kitchen, rinsed out the glass, and then considered what the immediate future held for her. She didn’t want to leave Jacob alone—the doctor had made it clear that he should be watched closely for a couple days—and she didn’t want to crawl into bed with him. It was big enough for the two of them to never even have to touch each other, but their relationship with each other had taken a bizarre twist, and she wasn’t certain what to make of it.
She waited a couple minutes, and then peeked into the bedroom. Jacob slept peacefully.
I did a good thing. A naughty thing, but a good thing…but it’ll never happen again.
Stepping up to his closet, she looked inside. His suits were of the finest quality—naturally. She selected a white, button-down, Oxford shirt and took it down from the wooden hanger. Pressing it against the front of her body, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror attached to the wall near the door. The shirt would cover her to the middle of her thighs, which was a lot more modest than her denim miniskirt.
In the living room, she stripped out of her blouse, skirt, and panties, and then put on Jacob’s shirt. She had to roll the cuffs up several times to get them up to her wrists.
There were two spare bedrooms, but she hadn’t been invited to use them, and she didn’t want to feel like a tramp that crawls into beds she wasn’t invited to. From one of the beds she removed a light blanket, went back to the living room, stretched out on the sofa, and closed her eyes.
I’m never telling a soul in the world what I just did. Not even Angela. Not even Ariel. They’re my best friends in the whole world, and I’m not telling them a word about this.
* * * *
Caleb pulled the ring of keys from his pocket, but it took him a moment to pick out the right key for the front door to his brother’s apartment. He hardly ever used it. Their apartments were on the same floor of the building, but not side by side. They lived close enough so that they could easily get together—they were, after all, each other’s best friend—but they could still live on their own. Good fences make good neighbors…and happy brothers.
The voicemail he’d received had jangled his nerv
es pretty badly. He had just spent several hours at an ex-lover’s apartment, trying to calm her down. They had stopped seeing each other several weeks earlier. She had drank herself into oblivion with a box of Merlot wine that went down fast, and made one hell of a mess when it came up even faster. Caleb had cleaned her up, cleaned up the mess she had made, and then sobered her up enough to where she could give him the name and telephone number of a friend he could call to come over.
He had foolishly turned the ringer on his cell phone off. If he had left it on, he could have come to his brother and Bobbi Jo hours earlier. For his delay, he cursed himself.
It had been a thoroughly and completely miserable time from beginning to end, but at least when he finally left her apartment, she thanked him for his kindness. Her friend, though, just glared at him, visually letting him know she blamed him for everything.
He opened the door carefully and quietly. There was a light on in the kitchen providing dim illumination to the living room.
He saw the spray of blonde hair on the pillow on the sofa and smiled. He had always liked Bobbi Jo, and he sometimes lusted after her like crazy. But having taken care of his brother as she had, he now had an affection for her that bordered on adoration.
Stepping deeper into the apartment, he was equally careful in closing the door. His urge was to go to Bobbi Jo. She was beautiful when she was awake, and he was curious as hell as to what she looked like when she was sleeping. But he pushed aside this urge and went straight to his brother’s bedroom. Blood trumps desire.
The door was open. Caleb approached the bed slowly. He could hear Jacob breathing, see his bandaged chest slowly rising and falling. His head and shoulders were propped up with a couple pillows. There was a bandage around his left wrist.
Seeing the bandages brought an instant fury into his soul.
Some motherfucker is going to wish to hell he never did this, he thought. I don’t care if it takes me a hundred years, I’m going to find out who did this and make that bastard pay. And it won’t be eye for an eye, either. I’m going to give him one hell of a lot more than a bump on the head and a couple busted ribs.