As distasteful as the idea is to my very staid sensibilities, the latter option is the only real viable one. That is, if I still want Zane and if Jake does too.
In the real world, ménage relationships are more than alien. They’re out of the Milky Way. They belong in another galaxy. They’re partnerships that are televised in documentaries for the world to gawk at and judge. They’re formed from religious foundations that are reported in the news and cause horror in those who read the articles.
They’re not the happily-ever-afters that parents relate to their children over bedtime.
They’re not what the average woman dreams about…
But if I want Zane for keeps, this is a route I might have to travel.
And I think Jake is on that very same page.
For whatever reason, he brought me over here. He’s wined and dined me. Dressed me and impressed me. Made a friend out of me regardless of how weird it is, when I am who I am. So… why?
It could have been to put a wedge between Zane and myself.
But, with thoughts of everything that has occurred during these last weeks together, I can’t help but wonder if this is what he intended all along.
To woo me, regardless of who I was, regardless of whether he found me attractive or not… with the intention of bringing me into his and Zane’s relationship.
It seems to be psychotic reasoning, but I know how much he loves Zane. And I know, that deep down inside, it hurts that he’s not enough for him. This is a solution. A radical one but a solution.
Didn’t he say that I’m the woman to break the status quo?
That there was something about me that urged Zane from the path of discretion into inadvertently revealing to the entire world that another woman was, in some small way, involved in their marriage. Be it as the surrogate as the paper had incorrectly supposed or, as Jake knows for real, that I’m the ‘other woman’.
Maybe it’s a good thing that I find him attractive and that he shares that attraction.
On top of that, those weird fantasies of mine, of Jake and Zane together could become reality. They wouldn’t be something I’d masturbate to at night. The pair of them would be fucking each other in front of my very eyes. I’d have a front row seat…
That is if this radical idea of mine and potentially of Jake’s ever comes to fruition.
And a part of me would like it to, simply so that I could watch them together.
My fingers curl into the palms of my hands. My nails bite down, causing me to wince a little but I take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait for Jake to use the facilities before I head to the bathroom and strip off my dress and pull on my nightie.
As the cool air of the chilly bathroom brushes my naked flesh, my entire body feels as though it’s on a precipice. If I fall, I lose Zane. If I make it to the other side, Zane will be waiting there, as will Jake.
Would I be taking him on sufferance?
Simply to have the man I love in my life?
Maybe.
But that isn’t fair to Jake.
It wouldn’t be fair to me either if Jake felt the same way about me.
Are we willing to put up with one another for Zane?
On my side, yes.
Christ, I sound like a real patsy. But how can I describe how Zane makes me feel? All of this, our relationship, it’s been turbo-charged. A case of instant lust that has metamorphosed into love, even as unlikely as it ought to have been.
Zane does something to me, something I’ve never known before. He turns me into a Mona that’s so much more than a small town girl in a big city. The Mona I become when I’m with him is capable of anything. She has the guts to come on to her man and fuck him senseless. She has the balls to stand up to him and argue. She has a voice. He gives me that.
I can’t say that without him, I’d collapse and wither away. I’m no weakling. I’d survive. But why should I have to live without the man I want?
What did Zane say to me, when he tried to convince me to be with him on a permanent basis as his ‘kept woman’?
Sometimes you have to behave extraordinarily to retain possession of something that is equally as extraordinary. Or words to that effect.
And what I feel for Zane is just that.
And given time, maybe I could feel the same way for Jake.
Could I?
I’ve known him for a minute amount of time. But what I do know is that he’s a good man. He’s quiet, but eloquent. Interesting, and interested in the world around him.
Had I met him and gone out on a date with him, I’d have gone out for a second one.
That has to mean something, right?
Or maybe I’m justifying an impossible and totally impractical relationship?
Hell, Zane’s turned my life upside down. That I’m even contemplating this, that I’m trying to reason it out logically as I brush my teeth, says it all.
What the hell is going on with my mind?
I never thought love was like this. I thought it was pure, in both intentions and spirit. That it would illuminate my life… but then, all that glitters isn’t necessarily gold.
That isn’t to say that I doubt my feelings. Being away from Zane has made me come to terms with how I really feel. And it’s way too late for regrets.
Being incommunicado has done one thing, it’s made me realize that Zane shares my feelings. He hasn’t actually said the words, but his anger has a desperation to it. An edge that speaks louder than words.
And it’s horrible, but every time I hear it, every time I listen to his angry messages, I’m thrilled.
Now that isn’t nice, is it?
But it’s proof positive to me that I’m not alone in this madcap situation. What started as turbo-charged lust has developed into love.
It’s music to my ears, but the reason I don’t reply, that I don’t answer his calls is that I’m trying to reconcile myself to my fate.
And that is to say, that if I want Zane, I have to accept Jake.
And it’s time Jake realized that it was the same for him, where I’m concerned.
Tonight hasn’t been exhausting. I don’t feel scarred by Rousset’s words or his vulgar actions. Had I really been Jake’s wife, and had I been stupid enough to barter for a bloody piece of jade with my body, then yeah, I’d be feeling worse for wear. But as it is, I feel like Superwoman. I’ve taken down a bad guy and potentially damaged the jackass’s balls for a little while.
With such success rippling through my veins, I’m wondering whether I want to experience deflation.
Am I ready to talk to Jake about where my thoughts have been drifting of late?
The answer is no. But it won’t stop me. I need to see where he stands. Figure out where I stand, and all this before Zane goes nuts with worry about where the pair of us are.
Spitting out my toothpaste, I wash up and head over to the door that connects to his room. I hover there, wondering if he’s asleep, and gently rap my fingers against it. When there’s no sound, I open it slightly, expecting to see darkness but wanting confirmation before I give up and go.
The slight sliver reveals more than expected.
And instantly has my belly doing somersaults.
Jake, arm over his eyes, on top of the bed, hand on his cock, jerking off. A faint grunt seems to echo around the room, and tucked into that sound of agitated pleasure is my name.
“Fuck. Mona,” he gasps out, his hips arching upwards before the tense muscles in his stomach seem to be delineated one by one as his body strains toward pleasure.
In the tiny gap, I can’t see all that much but what I can see is enough to have my pussy flood with juices.
It’s terrible, but I don’t think to step back and to gift Jake his privacy. I watch. My eyes taking in as much as they can with the small amount of space provided. I watch his hand rub along the length of his sex, his fingers grip and clench down as he tugs at his cock. His other palm rolls over the leaking glans, before sliding down to clasp his
balls.
My heart starts to go pitter patter in my chest. Any thoughts of taking Jake on sufferance disappear. I don’t love this man, but I sure as hell want him.
Maybe I’ve turned into a slut, but what a fucking way to go.
I’m only just realizing that a prim life is no life at all.
I’ve had more excitement since Zane popped into my world than I’ve ever had in my entire existence. And I don’t want it to stop.
Being a slut has way more advantages than being a goody-two-shoes. That’s for damned sure.
I hover in the doorway, every part of me longing to step forwards and into the room and take over. I want Jake’s pleasure to be gifted by me. I want to own it, possess it.
Once again, my nails dig deep into my palms as my fingers curl into claws. My breathing turns erratic, unsteady, as lust rips through my body and detonates. And as simple as that, the decision is made for me.
Autonomously, without conscious thought, I step forwards. The door creaks as I walk into the room and Jake jerks upright.
“What the hell are you doing, Simone?” he yells at me, cursing under his breath as he grabs the top sheet of his bedding to cover himself.
It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s still hard.
Something that’s visible even under the lightweight duvet.
“You felt it in the car, didn’t you?” I ask, rather than confront his question, I urge him to answer my own.
“Felt what? Anger? Annoyance? Yeah, I sure as hell did.”
“Don’t deny it. I’m not slow, Jake. When I held your hand, you felt it too.” I step forward, closer to the bed and he seems to freeze all the more. The physical rejection has me stopping in my tracks, but I choose to ignore it in favor of approaching him. “What do you think it means?”
“I think it means you’re crazy.”
“Don’t lie, Jake. I heard you say my name just now.”
If I thought he’d been deep-frozen before, that’s nothing to the iciness emanating from him now. “Get. Out.”
Clenching my jaw, I shake my head. My hair flops on to my face, falling out of the loose topknot I’d set it in earlier as I changed. “No. What if I want it too?”
I don’t give him a chance to speak, I don’t let his lips even firm in the precursor to talking, I just move forwards and grab a hold of the fabric covering him and tug. I’ve shocked him, and his grip is laxer than it probably would have been. I doubt he expected me to do this and, Christ, if I’m honest, I doubt I expected me to do this.
Within a second, my hand is on his cock and whatever his depth of surprise, he’s harder than ever. I curl my fingers around his shaft, pressing the fingertips into the length, pushing down on the thick vein at the back. His hips jerk, almost lifting his butt flat off the mattress, and I take the opportunity to climb on to the bed beside him.
His eyes clash with mine and there’s a war taking place behind his, but with that one joining of our gazes, I’ve made a declaration.
I want him and I’m going to have him.
One of his hands had been supporting him, keeping him upright while the other had clutched the sheet to his erection. Now, that hand slowly retreats from his lap in silent surrender and I start in earnest.
With that one touch, I’ve broken all the barriers. Both with him and within myself. Something bursts free inside me, like a dam breaking, and I can start seducing him properly.
I’m not a femme fatale. I’m not even seductive. But tonight, I’ll sell my soul to be whatever Jake wants. Because he’s what Zane needs. But this is no sacrifice. I fully intend to indulge in every moment, in every touch. I feel like I’ve wanted to be intimate with Jake for almost all the time I’ve known him. Because of that, this feels so right, even though it’s anything but.
Sucking in a breath, I let my fingers trail up to the glans of his cock, making sure I circle that thick ridge, rimming it with my fingers and then, I dip down and flicker my tongue over the slit. There’s a single bead of pre-cum there and the instant it settles on my tongue, I shudder.
With my hand and mouth still close to his cock, I awkwardly maneuver myself on the bed so I’m kneeling. I let my lips drop down to encompass the tip of his dick, warming it within the wet cavern, teasing him with my hot breath as I settle a knee on either side of his. The move spreads my legs and my nightie, while not short, rises upwards with the movement. The air in the room isn’t chilly, it’s perfectly temperate but what feels like a draught runs along the lips of my sex. And I know why. Because they’re getting wet. I’m turned on.
This shouldn’t surprise me. But it does.
I didn’t expect to be aroused by Jake so quickly. But then, I guess it makes sense. The guy has been doing something weird to my insides ever since I met him.
He’s cut from the same cloth as Zane, where that’s concerned.
And that alone makes me think this is all sanctioned by the Fates. That this was meant to be.
Making sure I thoroughly wet the tip with my tongue, I let my saliva drip down on to his cock and use it to lubricate the passage of my hand. At the sight, Jake groans and that single noise has my belly fluttering. My pussy pulses a little and I blow out a breath, inadvertently chilling the hot piece of flesh in my grip. With a loose wrist, I begin to jerk my hand up and down, maintaining a tight clasp. With the other hand, I sink between his legs and grab his balls. I’m a little more expert in this act now after Zane’s tutelage, and I press down, squeeze a little and gently rotate them, pushing them together.
With my mouth watering at the sight of even more pre-cum at the tip, I lean down and once again, settle my lips atop the crest of his cock. As I drop my head, accepting more and more of him into my mouth, a thought flutters through my mind.
It’s a random thought, something I shouldn’t be thinking of, but it sets my veins alight. Has fire ripping through my bloodstream with the power of an incendiary device.
My pussy is no longer just wet. I can feel juices slipping between the lips, dampening my thighs. And all from the thought that the last mouth around this cock was Zane’s.
Maybe I should be repulsed at the very idea of that, but instead, an image of Zane being here… of his head between Jake’s legs. His mouth around this cock… It sets off explosive quakes in all of the important parts of my body.
For a moment, I just hover, holding on to Jake’s dick with a faint suck and release rhythm. He breaks my stasis by curling his hands in my hair and gently urging me down. I moan around his cock as I comply and, unable to help myself, my hand retreats from his balls and begins to slip down my body.
The instant my fingers come into contact with my pussy I moan again, and Jake grunts as the faint vibration sets his own nerves to pulsing in reaction.
His hand on my head is a little firmer, a little more forceful. Urgent, now.
I accept as much of his dick into my mouth as I’m able, and flutter the muscles in my cheeks back and forth as I lathe my tongue along the myriad veins twisting around his cock.
My fingers slip into my pussy. The central finger sinking deep as the pointer frigs my clit. Despite myself, I jerk my hips in time to the thrusts and suddenly, the hands on my hair are more than urgent. They pull and jerk the strands at the root. He grabs my head and urges me off his cock, and before I even realize what’s happening, he’s rolled upwards, forcing me backwards and on to my back.
My legs are spread as wide as can be, the tendons and sinews at my inner thighs wincing in reaction to the pull. I grimace, but have no chance to complain as a tongue makes itself known. Dragging down the central line of my pussy. Setting off quakes wherever it touches as it nudges my clit, separates the petals of my sex and bares the entrance of my body to the room and to that gentle pulsation of his tongue nudging my most intimate parts.
Clenching down, my back arches with an urgent desperation to have it be his cock doing the touching, but as he returns upwards, his tongue focusing on my clit… any thoughts in my brain soon disa
ppear in the face of such sensual torture.
Accustomed to Zane’s methods of overwhelming me, forcing me into climaxing from the sheer mass of sensation overtaking me, Jake’s way of working is so different that it has my body edging ever upwards with little attempt.
He doesn’t dive down and suckle my clit. Instead, he blows air along the pulsating nubbin. I can feel his eyes staring at me, so intently that my body flushes with discomfort at the depth of his study. And then, he washes that away by pressing a single open kiss to my clit. He pinches down with his lips, jerks it back and forth against his teeth, a move that has me shrieking and my legs clamping down, almost squashing him between them. But his hands are there, forcing them down, forcing me into spreading my thighs so that every inch of my cunt is bared to him.
He wedges himself between my legs, making it so that I can’t move and with the new freedom to move his arms, his hands roam upwards and this time, he is anything but studious. His hands stroke over the silken flesh of my tits, part exposed by my nightie and part hidden by the cotton-blend. He pulls at the neckline, urging them into freedom. Gooseflesh ripples along my skin at his touch and when his fingertips reach my nipples, they don’t rub, or leisurely flick. They pinch. Enough to have me crying out with pain.
My head jerks upwards and I glare down at him, but the intensity of his gaze isn’t on me, it’s on my sex. His tongue flickers out to lick at the sudden gush of moisture that has flooded my cunt–where the hell that came from, when that pinch hurt like hell, I don’t know, especially after Rousset’s abuse of my nipples this evening, but my body can’t remember and is only reacting to just the one man’s touch–and seeing that, seeing the tensile muscle flicker out, lap at my sex, suckle at the lips of my pussy, it sets off an inner detonation.
There’s a great difference between that and a climax. A climax brings relief. This brings more agony.
My nerves are still taut, stretched to the limit. The inner implosion is merely my mind yelling at me as sensory overload shuts my nervous system down. As it restarts itself, I’m left to his mercy, and he’s anything but merciful.
Sinfully Theirs: Naughty Nookie Part I Page 21