Jill & Tim's Story Ch. 05

Well ... actually, I did MORE than that. After disposing of a few fragrant drops left over from her impromptu Golden Shower, I started after her clit again -- she's right, I'm a real cunthound, in case you hadn't figured that out by now -- with predictable results, her Bartholean fluids quickly replacing the pee and her hips starting to move in reaction to my tongue-prodding ... until, all of a sudden, she seemed to realize where it was going, said, "Oh, no!", clambered off my chest to, quickly, kneel by my hips and give my still-stiff cock three tremendous sucks before throwing a stocking-clad leg over my body to straddle my hips, to position her juicy pussy over my cock ... and to sink down on it, enveloping my hardness in her hot, swampy warmth, her tight slot clenching tightly around me .. with SUPERB results!

Her graceful back was toward me, so that she was facing the wall mirror. I could watch the gleaming roundness of her ass pumping up and down -- each upward move clearly showing my come-glistening joint splitting her -- or could look up into the overhead mirror to see her lovely face set in an expression of intense concentration as she took long, full pussy-strokes on me.

There was nothing fancy about her fucking: it was hammer-like blows, her cunt rising up to just short of the point where I'd fall out, then dropping like a piledriver, my full length going all the way up into her. Her outstretched hands resting on top of my thighs gave her all the leverage she needed to screw me at what seemed 50-miles-an-hour, the intent unmistakably to get both our rocks off as rapidly as possible.

In fascination -- and with an unbelievable amount of physical pleasure -- I watched and felt her furious pumping, a metronomic pounding that, every couple of minutes, would become hysterically spastic, her child-like cries signaling an orgasm. Then a moment's pause .. and then she'd start all over again.

God-only-knows how many times she exploded before the multiple stimuli started getting to me and I felt myself rising toward a peak. As she felt my growing -- and unhideable --excitement, she started chanting, "Yes .. yes, come, Tim, fuck me, fill me, juice, me, fuck, fuck, please, yes, I, oh, now, it, oh, oh, love, you, come, now, yes, yes, YES ...AHHHHHHH!!!!" She shrieked as my hips jutted up to meet her ass, and I shot what felt like a quart of semen into her simultaneously clenching/dilating cunt, my violent orgasm triggering a similar one in her and, for several moments, both of us went hysterical and became lost in a delirium of sensual release, our cries echoing 'joyously off the walls of the red-lit, closed room.

Then we rested, waiting till the oxygen-hungry gasping for air subsided before she said, “Oh, God, that was wonderful!"

"Yes, it was," I agreed. "Thank you, my darling."

My thanks -- which I'd intended as a preamble to asking to be let loose -- were, it seemed, misplaced. With no warning, other than a small giggle, she quickly changed positions and sucked my mingled-juice-laden cock into her hot, busy mouth. My prick was so super-sensitive that I would've screamed -- and loudly, too --had it not been for one little impediment: her pussy. That new position was the classic 69. Her cunt, my own juices as well as hers dripping out of it, was firmly on my pillow-raised mouth, quite effectively muffling and making wordless my near-violent protests.

I can’t begin to tell you how extraordinarily extreme are the sensations caused by coming in a good fuck which is immediately followed by a joyously enthusiastic blow job, and the sensations are multiplied when you are only-too-aware that you can't get away from them, that there's absolutely nothing you can do or say that's going to make your lover quit what she's doing!

Jill quite obviously had no intentions of stopping or even slowing down. Her blazing-hot mouth had immediately sucked in every inch of my screaming shaft and, as I thrashed helplessly beneath her, her head slowly, steadily, bobbed up and down, each passage bringing her lips -- and ESPECIALLY her damnably-busy tongue -- into contact with every shrieking nerve in my cock, all accompanied by her deftly skilled fingers caressing my balls, gently squeezing and stroking them.

My darling knows me (as I've indicated) quite well. After several minutes of utter and absolute hysteria on my part, she again took me past that mysterious and unpredictable borderline between "too good" and "VERY good" and, soon, her steadily-sucking mouth was being fueled by my hungrily-eating mouth, my juices gone from her now, her clitty between my lips as my tongue assaulted it with all the fervor of her tongue on my prick.

With two shots already fired from my rifle, the urge -- the ability -- to come was well-submerged, enabling Jill to use her mouth and fingers with no subtlety or concern about me exploding prematurely. The sensations this lack of restraint on her part made possible are indescribable and, for some quite long time, the two of us just lost ourselves in mutual pleasure, giving and taking simultaneously, only our grunts, our moans of pleasure, and the wet, sticky sounds of two busy mouths disturbing the silence of the room.

Her skills had managed to resurrect me to the stage where I felt unsatisfied and vaguely unfulfilled when, at one point, she merely (?!?) held my cock quietly between her lips while she shifted her hips to put her pussy more firmly in my mouth, to hunch down with it and, with the aid of my lips and tongue, enjoyed another of her own huge climaxes. As soon as it subsided, she wordlessly hopped off the bed, went to the dresser and got something out of our "toy chest" drawer.

All I could do was lay there and pant from both exertion and a certain amount of physical frustration as I watched her red-light-hued ass sway over there and return, whatever it was she'd pulled out of the drawer hidden in her hand. It wasn't until she knelt over my chest that she opened her hand to show me a ball gag.

Oh-oh!

As its name implies, the centerpiece of this little device is a ball, a red rubber one, about the size of a Ping-Pong ball, with something to fasten it in place; in this case, the "something" was a narrow black patent leather strap with a buckle on it.

I didn't fight Jill as she opened my mouth to fit the ball well inside, firmly on top of my tongue, then led the strap around the back of my head to fasten it securely, holding the ball in place, rendering me inarticulate and relatively silent.

It would be fair for you to ask why I didn't at least fight her a little or plead or something, no matter how futile such effort might've been. All I can say in response is that I had been close to coming when she’d stopped sucking me, so my sex drive was again cranked up to the point where I’d accept anything that would hasten the process of her triggering my climax, seeing as how I was in no position to do it myself.

It was a little like the guy who was seriously injured while doing something stupid: jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. As the story goes, someone asked him why he did it, and the only answer he could think of was, "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Ditto no fighting the gag.

Once Jill had me silenced, she worked on the pillows (soaked as they were) until my head was well-raised and I could, with no effort, look straight down my body at my rigid, ring-locked cock.

Having accomplished that, Jill reached into the drawer of the night table and removed her favorite vibrator. I watched in fascination as she moved a chair over to the foot of the bed, plunked her butt into it, raised her feet to the edge of the mattress and, as she stared at my rigidly-restrained form, began playing with her pussy with her machine. While I couldn't see exactly what she was doing to herself, her reaction made it clear that, whatever it was, it felt damn good!

In between little sighs and moans, and over the steady buzzing of the vibrator, only the hand caressing her stiff-nippled breasts visible to me, she started another monologue. "Oh, lover!" she hissed, "you look beautiful like that. It makes me feel so good to know that I can do anything with your body I want whenever I want. I love the idea of wearing you out like this, and we're going to do it often. Maybe next time Brenda or Millie will help ... and you won't get any rest at all, one of us on your mouth and one of us on your cock all evening. Or maybe we'll just tie you to the wall and let you watch us eat each other's pussies all night long -- AFTER we jack and suck you off two-or-three times.” A certain catch in her voice made me almost unconsciously realize that, during that last (exciting, I'll admit) speech, she'd come perilously close to climaxing and had temporarily moved the machine to where it still felt good, but couldn't quite hit the right nerves.

A momentary pause before she asked me, "Do you know what I’m doing right now?” I shook my head. "I'm sliding the vibrator up into my cunt, that whole big, black machine is starting to fill me up, just like some of the cocks you’ve watched fucking me. I love to get fucked while you watch me, darling .. I like knowing that you get excited watching strange pricks pounding my tunnel and spraying their come all over my insides.

"Oh .. I'm sliding it in and out of me, lover, just like a prick, a big, black prick, and it feels SO good! I want you to watch me being fucked by a big, black prick sometime. I want you to watch it slip into me, that big, black, hard cock that's going to come in my little pink pussy, and then I'm going to want you to lick him out of me while I clean his cock off with my mouth and both of us taste his and my come at the same time.”

She was, judging from the motion of her arm, screwing herself with the machine now, the effect obvious in the pauses between words and her unsteady breathing, the little "Oh!"s punctuating what she was saying.

"You made me what I am, lover, a sex-hungry little slut, and I'm always going to want new people to look at me while I’m playing with myself, want new pussies to eat, new mouths on my cunt, new pricks in my mouth, new cocks to split me in two after I suck them and make them come all over me.

"I want to get fucked in the twat and ass, all at the same time. I want to do anything that'll make me feel good and come..! For better or for worse, Tim, darling, you've got a sex machine on your hands!"

I could tell she'd been toying with herself -- that is, keeping herself at the edge of orgasm without going over it. I figured she'd pop her rocks before getting on with whatever she had planned .. but I was wrong.

Suddenly, she stood up, one hand between her legs holding the vibrator in place. Judging from its length and the fact that it was totally submerged in her, I figured (and she later confirmed) that the busily-vibrating tip of it must've been solidly against her cervix which, she tells me, is a thrill all unto itself.

She paused at the foot of the bed to stare at me, somewhat unnervingly, before saying, "This weekend, I want to take some pictures of you trussed up like that. Maybe Lucy will feel like posing with you and I can get some of you coming like that."

Don't even try to understand it .. but that was an exciting thought .. and not just because Lucy's only 19-years-old, either.

Having given my mind that picture to play with, Jill laid down between my chained-wide legs, laying on her left side toward my right leg, her left arm over my hip propping up the upper part of her torso, her hose-encased legs extended straight and clamped together to hold the still-buzzing vibrator within her.

Three deep, exciting slurps of my shaft deep within her hot mouth coated my cock heavily with saliva, then Jill wrapped her remarkably deft fingers around my quivering hardness and began stroking me, just the precisely-right amount of pressure applied to thrill me to the maximum, amplifying the steady up and down movement of her hand. I quickly lost myself in the marvelous sensations she was creating, my breathing stentorian around my gag, words from me unnecessary ... the pleasures she was giving me so intense that I only dimly heard her voice as, between relubricating sucks, she continued her monologue.

"I love watching you come, darling, no matter whether I’m making you do it or you're jerking yourself off, or you're getting sucked or fucked and played with by some other woman. You go so out-of-control, you moan and groan so loud .. it’s very exciting. I especially like it when I’m watching you fuck someone like Theo or Lucy, knowing that I can hear you yell at the same time as I watch your pretty balls draw up and squirt your come into them, all the time knowing that I’m going to be able to bury my face in the cunt you’re screwing and eat all your juices out of it.

Goddamn!, but her hand felt good! I could feel my excitement rising, fueled by my position, her hand, her mouth, her words ... the obvious fact that the machine busily whirring away in her cunt was taking her up toward the explosion point, too.

Jill was not toying with me as she had been with herself: there were no teasing delays, no sidetrips to other erogenous zones to hold off the Magic Moment as long as possible. Her hand, except for those brief moments when more lubricating spit was needed, now moved steadily, quickly, up and down my raw hardness .. to my great delight .. and even greater apprehension.

"It's getting to you, isn't it, lover?” A purely rhetorical question, my grunts, groans and thrashing making it abundantly clear that I was in the neighborhood of the proverbial Seventh Heaven. "I'm doing my best to hold off so I can come with you, lover .. because I've got a surprise for you."

Surprise, my ass! I knew EXACTLY what she was going to do -- I'd scripted, I realized, this escapade a year before and I goddamn well knew -- on a logical, intellectual level -- what she had planned for my explosion and that it would be pure (albeit heavenly) hell. Emotionally, at that point, though, I was ready for anything, just so long as an orgasm was part of the deal.

She coaxed me. "Come on, darling .. explode for me. I want to feel this nice, hard cock swell up in my hand and listen to you yell as your balls squeeze your delicious juices out. Come for me....” all accompanied by her unceasing stroking of my shaft, I couldn't resist all the stimuli .. I tensed, moaned, thrashed, thrust my hips in the air ....

Jill knew -- knows -- all my premonitory signals, right down to the last little gasp so, at Just the precisely right moment, her left hand circled around so that her fingers could squeeze and tickle my balls, her soft, hot thrilling lips encased just the head of my rapidly-throbbing cock, her hand intensified both its pressure and the tempo of its strokes .. and I came, Boy!, did I come! As the unbelievably sensational and intense explosions began, Jill's hand kept going, her mouth drawing at my screaming meat like it was a straw, my ejaculate being sucked out of me rather than being allowed to escape on its own ....

And then, as those sensations became too intense to tolerate, both of Jill's hands attacked my balls and her fiery-hot mouth engulfed my entire cock, her head beginning to bob repeatedly, her mouth to suck constantly .. and she listened to me screaming wordlessly for mercy behind my gag as I went crazy and was forced through a sensual barrier that, until that moment, I'd thought to be impenetrable.

At the fourth explosion, some little time later (although it seemed like forever), I passed out and really carry no memories of the next twelve hours.

* * *

Jill was very solicitous of me the next day and was more than happy to use her fingers on herself when I proved unable to party. Fortunately, at bedtime, she also proved the condition wasn't permanent.

Thank God (an oath she echoes fervently)!

-0-

IN THE BEGINNING - V

Jill

"You know," I told Tim a day-or-two later, "I never said, 'Yes.'"

"True," he replied, "but you never said 'No,' either."

The few days during which that exchange took place are very mixed-up in our memories. We were facing a double deadline: not only was I going back to work soon, but we were going to have three weeks of "vacation" stolen from what little we had left. (I put quotes around "vacation" because it was Frank’s idea of a vacation, not mine .. as usual).

The oncoming separation compressed events; things moved so rapidly that, in looking back, neither of us is fully capable of knowing exactly what came when. We were -- are -- so much in love with each other that every moment was/is precious, and we tried to use each one of them to the hilt.

Regardless of sequence, these things happened:

Tim, as you have no doubt noticed, has a very definite "thing" about high heels and hose; he tells me I'm the only woman he’s ever known who's shared that interest, that most women resent having to put hose on and walk around in the exaggerated way spike heels make necessary.

I don't resent it at all; on the contrary, I love them and always have. One of the few happy -- REALLY happy -- days of my adolescence was when I was finally able to put on a garterbelt, stockings, and some heels for the first time and begin wearing them regularly. One of the few areas of real disagreement that Frank and I had was my buying shoes (except for one pair of exercise sandals and one pair of ballet slippers, they’re ALWAYS with heels) at every opportunity.

Tim is extremely picky about shoes; as he put it, "I can't explain why, but a pair of women's shoes is either graceful and attractive or it's not.” He and I were both amazed when he went through my extensive shoe collection and found ALL of them acceptable to him -- some more than others, but ALL to his tastes.

There was one pair of ankle-straps that Tim particularly liked; in fact, it was the pair I was wearing the night we met for the first time. At one point in those wonderful, short weeks, he had expressed what he called a "fervent desire" to see me in nothing BUT those shoes -- and, of course, a pair of hose.

It was on a day we were scheduled to go for a drive that I, all coyness driven out of me by approaching deadlines, decided to give him his wish.

When I met him at the door, I was extremely nervous -- and he was confused, although not for long.

Wearing a bulky, unsexy old robe of Frank's that fit me like a tent, I nervously attacked Tim the moment he walked in, throwing myself into his arms and kissing him with near-desperation. I was almost crazy with a combination of excitement and frayed nerves, since I’d been sitting around for over an hour waiting to do what I was about to do -- and absolutely amazed at my temerity in getting up the courage to do it in the first place!

Finally, our kiss broke, but I kept Tim tightly pulled to me as I said, into his ear, "Tim, darling, you said that .. you said that, if I would ever be willing to let you see me in nothing but my 'hookers' shoes,' you'd promise to keep your hands behind your back. Remember?" I felt him nod. “Well .. I'm going to hold you to your promise. I want you to put them behind your back. I don't want you to .. help me. Will you do that, now?" Again, I felt him nod.

You should already know how I feel about his hands, but you should also know, as I explained it to Tim a little later, why I'd made this request. It wasn’t coyness, nor was it not wanting him to touch me (oh, NO!).

This was .. this was, for the first little in my life and, thus, in our relationship, to be my conscious, DELIBERATE performance of an overtly lewd act.

Let me explain it another way: I wore (wear) short skirts, for starters, because they were comfortable and "in," and continued wearing them because "Frank likes them.” Um-hmm. Tim had raised my T-shirt to caress my breasts, Tim had pulled off my panties and seduced me with his mouth....