“I never knew.”
She touched the tip of my cock with her finger. I wasn’t erect, I was still recovering, but it was like a jumpstart, I slowly but very steadily began to fill. “And I didn’t even mention the best part of you. I can’t tell you how perfect this is. I want it all the time. When you are in me, I picture your cock, what it must be like as it opens me, as it pushes inside. I know there aren’t supposed to be nerves deep inside a woman, but I swear I can feel this,” she ran her finger over the lip around the head of my cock, “as it slides back and forth. And when you are all the way in, so deep you can’t go any more, our hips jammed together, I picture your cock right at the entrance to my womb, and then. . .”
Her words, even more than her hands, were having an amazing effect, and I was hard again, she’d used her magic to turn me into a machine. “And then I imagine your cock right at the entrance, completely covering it, and when you come, I think of your seed rocketing into me, filling me.”
I tried to picture it. I didn’t have the knowledge of women’s anatomy that maybe I should have, but with that voice, those thoughts, it didn’t matter. It sounded so decadent, so exciting, my virile seed in her.
Without looking up at me, still toying with my cock, Joanne said, “Peter and I have decided to get pregnant.”
I almost fell off the bed. Just when I was almost overwhelmed by the thought of cumming inside her, thinking the unthinkable, she went and brought it up. I could feel myself deflating.
“No, no, don’t do that,” she said, her fingers flicking over my cock.
“When?” I mumbled, my mind a little dazed.
“Right away.” Joanne’s hand moved faster on my cock, and now she looked up at me. “In fact, I’ve stopped taking birth control.”
I gasped, as much from what she said as from what she was doing. “How long?”
Joanne held my eyes, and I searched for something in hers, some rhyme or reason to her telling me this. “I’ll give you a choice. I’ll answer your question, or. . .” She snuggled down on the bed, her face close to my semi erect cock, her eyes still locked on mine. “I’ll take you fully in my mouth. Just once, just for a moment. I won’t let you come.” To sweeten the temptation, she kissed the head of my cock, her tongue darting into my opening.
“Damn you,” I muttered.
“I’d rather you said, Fuck you. That would be far preferable an outcome.”
What was she doing to me? The whole virility story, and now this. Did she think this turned me on, the idea of planting my seed into her, into her married womb?
Fuck, she knew it did.
And if I asked, would she tell me the truth?
Any answer would drive me crazy, wondering if she was using me to get pregnant, wondering what else she expected, what she planned.
“If you’re worried, don’t be. If something happens, you’ll never know.”
“You mean you won’t tell me if you have a child?”
She kissed my cock again, and against my better judgment, almost against my will, it grew again. “Don’t be dense. You won’t know if it’s yours.”
Which meant it could be Peter’s, of course.
Or it meant that she already had another lover picked out. Another virile lover. Someone she’d be with, and very soon.
Joanne let me go and rose up on her knees. She took a moment to twist her hair back and up, giving me a clear view of her gorgeous face. She bent over so that her lips were an inch from my erection, so close I could feel her breathing. My cock quivered, completely hard again, damn her.
This is what I had wanted, dreamed of. Those beautiful lips around my cock. In a way, a proof of my manhood, and because she had withheld this so long, it suddenly seemed even more arousing than fucking her, than cumming into her.
“You know what I want,” I gritted.
“Say it. You have to say it.”
“I want you to take me in your mouth.”
“Louder. Say it louder!”
“Suck my cock!”
And she did. For a precious few, glorious moments, she took me, not like she had to, but like she wanted to, like she wanted nothing more than to please me, to take me, to be taken by me. Nothing in my life could compare to that, seeing her beautiful face, my cock in her sensual mouth, and feeling, truly feeling, that she wanted me. All of me.
It was over too fast. Yet not so fast that I would ever forget it.
She slid up along my body and kissed me, the taste of her juices still on her tongue, the juices she had just licked off my cock.
“I hope you realize I just broke one of my rules,” she said. “For you.”
I flipped her over on the bed so that she was flat on her back, spreading her legs fully apart. My cock needed no guidance. Poised at her opening, I said, “And I’m going to break one of mine. Again.” I thrust into her. “For you.”
She was wet, so wet, yet she grabbed at me with her pussy, creating friction, closeness. We didn’t kiss, we just watched each other, her eyes wide, her lips parted, the lips that had moments ago finally surrounded me, had finally pulled me into her mouth.
I couldn’t imagine that I could possibly come again, not three times in just a few hours, but I was rock hard, I fucked her like an animal in heat.
“I thought you might want to take another picture,” she said. “Of you in my mouth. Some kind of souvenir.”
“I have all the picture I need,” I growled at her, this back and forth as much a part of us, as much a part of our relationship, as our sex. “It’s etched in my mind, my cock in your beautiful mouth.”
“Your beautiful cock in my beautiful mouth.” She squeezed her legs, increasing the friction.
“What souvenir do you want?” I asked, feeling her legs tighten.
“More of your come inside me.”
“You must be filled already.”
“Not yet. Soon, very soon.” Now her legs were tightly wrapped around me, she was milking me, as she had done before, and I felt myself get close, her magic, some kind of hormones, who knows what, swirling around our bodies, making me create the virile seed that she wanted, that I now truly believe she craved.
“Say it,” I ordered, just as she had done.
“Come in me!”
“Louder!”
Joanne wrapped her arms around my back, her head over my shoulder, her chin digging into my neck. “Come in me!”
And so help me I did, not knowing where it came from, but I shot into her, remembering what she had described, imagining my cock pushing up against her pelvic bone, at the head of her womb, my load blasting into her, powerful eruptions, repeating. With each spasm Joanne dug her hands into my back, her hips and legs rising off the bed, creating a perfect basin to accept my seed.
We were both shaking, I was so caught up in it, in the decadence, and yes, in my virility, that I didn’t realize when her orgasm started, only that she was still shaking long after mine ended.
All my weight was on her, and I began to lift up, but she just held me closer. “Stay there,” she said. “I don’t want to lose any of you.”
And by me, I knew what she meant. My seed.
I heard her voice from a distance, her face away from me, looking out into the room somewhere. “I hope that was exactly what you wanted,” she said.
Again I tried to get up, and again she held me. “Just another minute,” she whispered in my ear. “I want to make sure it all sinks in.”
Her grip finally relaxed, and I collapsed on the bed next to her. “You were right. Fuck you was a much better thing to say.”
Joanne still lay on her back. She put her hands over her pussy, then pulled her legs together, like she was trying to hold on to everything I had given her. “I’m glad you saw it my way.”
As if I had a choice.
Yet she had given me one, and I had made a choice. I’d never know the answer to one question, and yet I would no longer be hounded by wondering about something else. An impossible choice in th
e heat of the moment. Probably just as Joanne had planned.
Joanne finally turned to me, her hands still between her legs. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
I only had enough strength left to nod. Fully drained, I drifted off to sleep, my last image that of Joanne staring into my eyes, her mystical, powerful, sensual glint fading into blackness.
I awoke in darkness, the sleep so deep and all encompassing it took me a long moment to realize where I was. Something crinkled under me.
I reached for Joanne, but she wasn’t there.
Bathroom, I thought.
It took a few minutes for my eyes to make out the furniture, the drapes, the windows, the open bathroom door.
The open door. I reached over and turned on the nightstand lamp. Quickly shut it off, it was blinding. I padded naked to the bathroom, reaching in to turn on the light, leaving the door slightly ajar, just enough light streaming in to the bedroom so I could see and get acclimated.
The room was empty. Once glance told me Joanne was gone, no shoes, no dress, no hint of her ever having been there except for the musk of sex.
And a red envelope on the bed.
I picked it up, in the dim light seeing only one thing on the front, a handwritten letter M.
Holding it in my lap, I somehow knew this was the last connection to Joanne.
I shook my head and went to get a drink of water. My eyes felt better, so I opened the door to let a little more light in. I thought of taking the note to the upholstered chair but stayed in the bed, better to feel Joanne, since it was the last place she had been.
I put the note to my nose, the subtle scent of Joanne encased in the paper, a smudge of deeper red on the back, where her tongue had moistened the flap, where her lips had pressed the seal closed.
A page of feminine but not girly script, strong passionate lines. I finally knew what her handwriting looked like.
It read:
My dearest lover Michael,
I hope you will forgive me for not being able to stay until morning. I will certainly remember this as our night together, and it would be special to me if you thought of it that way too.
If you were wondering why it took so long to schedule this evening, and why I booked the hotel, it’s because I wanted to plan something very special, not just for you, but for me, and for Peter. Today, as of midnight, a few hours ago, is his birthday.
We always give each other something special on our birthdays. This year I asked him what he wanted, and he told me to choose, as he always does. I thought long and hard, and yet the answer, when it came, was so obvious. I wonder if you would have chosen it too, if I asked you what I should give him.
I gave Peter a choice. He could fuck me, which as you know I usually only let him do on our anniversary, or he could listen to me with one of my lovers. Can you guess which gift he chose? I do think I’m rather good at presenting these choices, don’t you?”
I stopped there, thinking exactly that, of the choice she had given me, one just a few hours ago. Choices with both answers right, and both answers wrong. I shook my head, I was smiling, I couldn’t help it.
The next few lines sobered me up quickly.
Peter chose to listen to me with one of my lovers. To me and you. Even in that he had a choice, and he chose you.
Peter is in the next room to yours. He’s been in the next room since when I arrived to see you. Depending on what time you are reading this, he and I are in the next room right now, or he is alone, and I have moved on to another part of his birthday present, one that will be a surprise even for him.
I gave him a stethoscope, like the doctors use. Do you know it is quite useful for listening through walls? I practiced with it. I heard you come in to the room earlier, I heard you watch tv. I wanted Peter to hear everything you and I did. How you fucked me. How I begged you for you to come in me.
I’m writing this before all this happens, and so I’m praying it turns out as planned. And just writing it is making me wet, making me want you. If all goes as planned, I will go to Peter right after I am with you, so that he can feel how wet I am, so he can touch me. So he can feel my heat. So he can kiss my pussy.
My hands dropped to my lap, I was stunned. I expected the unexpected from Joanne, but nothing could have prepared me for this. My eyes flicked to the wall separating my room from the next, the plaster the only thing between me and them. What were they doing now? Was Joanne telling Peter everything? What had she said to me once before? That she gave him all the details, the excruciating details?
Joanne had been so much more vocal tonight, almost yelling, begging me to come in her. Now I understood why.
The note continued, the handwriting slightly different, more hurried.
I’m finishing this in the bathroom. You’ve fallen asleep, and it gives me a little more time to add some details.
Just knowing Peter was listening drove me wild tonight with you. Could you feel it? I so wanted him to be right in the room, but I didn’t think that would be right for you. Maybe I should have asked. For someone who fucks as well as you do, who has slept with as many women as I bet you have, you have a bit of a conservative streak in you. It’s not a criticism, as I’ve said many times, it is who you are. So I hesitated to ask you, not knowing if you would want to have Peter watch, not wanting to spoil it for any of us.
But I did something bad, so very bad. When you went to the bathroom, I unlocked the adjoining room door on our side. Peter was able to do the same, and he peeked in. More than peeked, he watched. As you lay on top of me, my legs and arms wrapped around you, my head over your shoulder, I could see him, and he could see everything. I was looking right into his eyes as you fucked me, as I begged you to come in me, as you spurted into me. I’ve never seen him so proud and aroused, ever.
Again I had to stop reading. I knew exactly what she was talking about, exactly when that must have happened, the memory of her chin and neck biting into mine, picturing it from the door, her hips pulling me into her, pulling my cock, my seed.
All while looking right at her husband.
What was it she had said at that moment? I hope that was exactly what you wanted. She hadn’t been talking to me at all. She had been talking to Peter.
I got up and crossed the room. Sure enough, the adjoining door was ajar, just slightly, but enough for someone on the other side to be able to see into my room. The second door, to their room, was closed.
My first impulse was to see if their door was unlocked, to push inside, to take Joanne away. Peter didn’t deserve her. I’d break down the damn door if I had to.
My fists clenched, my fingers digging into my palms, just as Joanne’s had dug into my back. Bringing me back to how I felt, how I thought she felt. I sensed no acting, no real deception, she had been fully aroused, just as she had always been with me. I had an ego, and she knew that, and she also probably knew that my ego would always make me believe that it was something special about me that excited her, that she couldn’t or wouldn’t have responded that way with just any man.
Besides, being who she was, she could have had any man. And she had chosen me.
I blew out a breath. What she did with her husband was between them, their secret, their private matter. I should have felt used, but all I felt was that I had taken an amazing, exhilarating ride, and I was glad that I had.
I sat in the straight backed chair and finished the note.
I hope you don’t think I was using you for this, I would have spent this evening with you with or without Peter being here, because you will always be my lover, and you wanted this so. But Peter will always be my husband, and he wanted it too. I did it for him, but for you too.
I hesitate to add the rest of this, because I don’t want it to detract from what we’ve shared. But I also don’t want you to wonder about me, to think there might have been something you could have done to have me, totally. I told you once before no one man can ever satisfy me. I’ve accepted that, and am cont
ent, More than content, I’ve discovered a way of life that is always exciting.
So to lay your mind at ease (or maybe, just maybe, to titillate you, I admit it), I’m going to share with you my other surprise for Peter. On the other side of Peter’s room is another adjoining room. I booked that one as well. My other lover is in that room. After I leave you, I will spend some time with Peter, and then I will go to my other lover. He will do unspeakable things to me, things you might not be able to even imagine. I’m hoping that Peter will be able to hear everything, and perhaps even watch. My other lover is not like you—thankfully, and because I chose him to be different—and he may want Peter to watch.
Michael, I’ve had many lovers. That doesn’t make you any less special, but more so. Each and every one of my lovers has been different, unique. I wasn’t just with a man, I was with you. No matter what I do, no matter who I am with in the future, I will never compare anyone to you, no one will ever replace you in my head and in my heart. Although it maybe be odd to hear me say this, I love you. Not in the way many people use that term, because that is reserved for Peter. But never for a moment think that what we had wasn’t special.
Don’t ever forget me.
She signed it with just the letter J.
As if she had to sign it at all. As if there was a chance of forgetting her, of forgetting how she had chosen me, captured me, ensnared me, taken all of me.
And then let me go.
I sat in the chair, unmoving, for a long time. Maybe an hour, maybe two. I didn’t really have a sense of what time it was, well into the night, maybe closer to morning. It didn’t matter.
I tried not to think, tried just to be a man. I let the feelings wash over me, letting my instincts guide me.
Allure of the Vixen Page 12