Miranda Kim

Miranda felt many things at once, and the compendium of sensations was so forceful that her brain could scarcely process them all. Her asphyxiation strengthened her orgasm to such a degree that she felt it throughout her body, from her fingertips and toetips to her clitoris, her nipples, her throat and even her mouth. She saw stars exploding before her eyes and the sensory overload was too much for her. The last thing she felt was the warmth of his ejaculate gushing into her most intimate alcove. She passed out and Jack's fingers slid off her throat.

He was spent too, but he was till tightly wound up from the intense excitement of the romp. His cock was still rigid within her vaginal clamp and he lay on her sweaty body, petting her wet hair. He looked over at her phone screen and saw Stan, who was staring with his mouth still hanging open. Jack could see that he had masturbated, for there was sweat coursing down his face and his hands, though off camera, were clearly on his crotch. His own phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Stan: You really hurt her! Good!

Jack saw the text, but did not respond. He continued petting Miranda's damp locks, arranging them so they were off her face.

"What a strong fuck you are," he whispered, aware that Stan could hear him. "You've got my motor so revved up, it won't calm down."

Minutes passed. Miranda felt like she was at the bottom of a deep well and rose slowly, ever so slowly, toward to the surface. The first thing she became aware of was Jack's huge organ still deep in her pussy, and then she felt his weight on her, their sweaty bodies slithering against one another. In spite of all the lube, she could still feel the burning soreness in her anal passage, especially the reaming of his thick cockhead. Even so, she felt closer to him that ever. But she was still dizzy in the continuing afterglow of her blazing orgasm.

"You animal, you fucked me senseless," she whispered, softly. "And you're still in me and still hard."

"I told you I would try harder," he said.

"I thought I'd seen everything that you could do. But you topped everything." She twisted her torso to face him, tugging on her silk scarf as she did so. Both Jack and Stan could see her nipples were hard and elongated. "When I was first married, I thought sex with Stan was exciting. How little I knew!"

"I hurt you, Miranda, didn't I?" said Jack with a sidelong glance at Stan, who was staring from her phone screen.

"It was intense. At first I couldn't tell whether it was good intense or bad intense, but soon the excitement mounted and it was all good. The sensations were SO much stronger than anything I've felt before, even with you, like WOW! Then you choked me and, OMIGOD! I came so hard, I passed out." She puckered up and Jack kissed her. "I couldn't do this every night, Jack. But I'm going to want to do this again!"

She squeezed her pussy lips as hard as she could on his still rigid dick.

"It feels good to have you in me." She slowly rotated her hips, creating friction and warm suction that got his pulse going again. "Fuck me again. But slowly this time."

He moved slowly in time with her rotations, thrusting gently into her pussy. The sticky warmth of his last ejaculation lubed his shaft and seeped out, adding more sexual residue to the sheets under her. Jack had very little jism left in him and even his great sexual energies were close to spent. He did not seek release, but sought to enjoy the warmth of her pussy that had incredibly retained its taut grip on his member.

"I've fucked a lot of women, Miranda," he said. "But very few can match your energy in bed."

"Tell me about them," she said, continuing the placid rhythmic rotation of her hips. "Tell me about your executive assistant, Farah Hojjat, with her upper class British accent. She sounds so cold on the phone."

"What do you want to know?"

"Is she cold in real life? Is she married?"

"No, she's not cold. And yes, she's married."

"Did you breed her?"

"Yes."

"Do you tie her down like this?"

"Sometimes."

"Is she better than me in bed?"

"Not better, just different."

"Does her husband know?"

"No."

Miranda sighed.

"I wish I could see you with another woman."

Jack glanced over and saw Stan's eyes goggle.

"What about your husband, Stan? Would you want him to know about us?"

Miranda laughed and arched her back suddenly, upsetting Jack's rhythm.

"Stan! He wouldn't believe what we are doing if I told him! He couldn't imagine any of this. He thinks I'm an innocent schoolgirl."

"And you're not?"

She giggled.

"Would a schoolgirl let you fuck her in the ass?"

"I wouldn't try unless she was eighteen."

She giggled again.

"I have a feeling you've had some eighteen-year-olds."

Jack did not respond, but reached down and cupped a firm breast, playing with the hard nipple.

"Tell me what you wish you had."

"What any girl wishes for," laughed Miranda. "Things I can't afford. Designer clothes, sexy lingerie, and of course, cute shoes."."

Jack increased his rhythm and she began to breathe faster. He moved his hand down to stroke her clit again. Soon she was exhaling hard and climbing the heights again. When her orgasm came, it both sudden and mild - just a minor contractions that Jack barely felt. He came with her, and his climax was equally temperate. This time he rapidly went flaccid - he lost tumescence to the extent that he could not maintain penetration and slid out of her with a plop.

She turned around and Jack quickly reached over and cut the line to Stan on her phone. When she saw it on the bedside table, the screen was reassuringly dark.

"Will you untie me now?" she asked. "I'm very tired."

"No," he replied. "Go to sleep, you still have a couple hours before daylight."

"Hold me," she said, drowsily. He put his arms around her and cuddled her. She fell asleep almost immediately, arms still stretched over her head, wrists tied to the slats of the headboard.

Jack dozed for an hour before rising silently. He showered and dressed before coming to the bed and brushing her cheek with his lips.

"Love you, Jack, ...," she mumbled in her sleep.

He stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder at her sleeping form.

"No, you can't love me," he whispered. "I'm a monster."

* * * * *

It was well after dark the next day when Miranda let herself into the row home she shared with Stan. He came down the stairs when she shut the front door and gave her a hug.

"I'm so glad you're home," he said. "Have you had dinner?"

"Yes," she said.

"Come to bed."

"I'll just put my bag away first."

"I'll take it," he said. "How was your trip?"

"Tiring," she said.

He carried her bag upstairs and she followed. She went straight into the bathroom and changed into her nightie there. When she came out, Stan was in bed. She slid into bed with him hesitantly. She was still very sore from her extreme sexual marathon with Jack. Stan had the smell of sex on him and she braced herself to put up with his pawing, groping sex. However, she was gratified to find that he merely kissed her on the cheek and held her for a few moments before rolling over and going to sleep.

Stan had masturbated almost continuously since the previous day, watching the saved video of Jack fucking Miranda over and over. If anything, he was even more sore than she was. The thought of waiting a few hours to watch the video again while masturbating was far more attractive to him than boring missionary style sex with his wife.

* * * * *

Seven months later Miranda received a gift card in a Foncault Group envelope. In it was a gift card to the most expensive spa in town. It was signed by Farah Hojjat, Jack's executive assistant. Miranda put it in her purse and went to work. On an impulse, she called Farah's number. It rang a few times before she heard Farah's clipped British accent.

"Farah Hojjat."

"This is Miranda Kim. I got the gift card."

"Good."

"I want to see you."

"Why?"

"To see my competition."

"Whatever do you mean?

"Jack hasn't called me or contacted me since our night together at the Hilton. I want to know why."

"He's been busy."

"Not too busy to fuck you."

There was a silence.

"When do you want to meet?"

"Now."

"You know the Starbucks across the road from your office?"

"Yes."

"I'll meet you there at three."

Miranda was there fifteen minutes early. She took a corner table that had a view of the outside and scanned the people walking by, trying to guess what Farah would look like. When Farah appeared, she was more or less what Miranda expected - dressed as she was herself in a dark business suit with a short, tight skirt, white blouse and single button jacket that hung open. She wore a red silk choker and very high heels. Her heart shaped face, big brown eyes and hourglass figure were a marked contrast to Miranda's own.

She bought her coffee, seated herself at Miranda's table and crossed her legs.

"You're very pregnant," she said without a preamble.

"Thank you for the support payments, they arrive on the first of every month."

"Along with the support payments for your previous child with Jack," Farah said in a businesslike tone. "Why did you force this meeting?"

"I want to know why Jack hasn't seen me since the night he bred me. The last time he slept with me all through my pregnancy."

"I told you, he's been busy."

"But he's fucking you, isn't he?"

Farah remained unruffled.

"Jack has sex with me every day," she agreed. "But he's had a lot of other women as well. It would be best if you forget him."

"Do you love him?"

This did surprise Farah and she did not respond immediately. She looked out the window at the passersby and smoothed her tight skirt.

"Perhaps," she said finally. "I don't know. He's a hard man to love - he pushes everyone away."

"He keeps telling me that he is bad man," agreed Miranda. "But he's not. And he's a very successful businessman."

"Yes, he slaves away for the St James family," nodded Farah.

"Well, he's CEO of their corporation, the Foncault Group," retorted Miranda. "I'm sure he's well rewarded for his work."

"You don't know anything," snapped Farah.

"What do you mean?"

Farah hesitated.

"Jack loved Carmen St James," she said. "He agreed to an impossible contract in order to marry her. Her father, Reginald St James, had it drawn up so that Jack has access to a fortune in his corporate expense account, but he has no salary and not a penny in his own name. Everything he has is owned by the company. If Carmen divorced him, he'd be destitute and homeless - literally on the street."

"I've never heard of such a thing!"

Farah sipped her coffee before going on.

"Jack has been the best thing that ever happened to the Foncault Group - and he's made the St James family richer than ever. They were worth about $50 million when Jack became CEO, they're worth over $3 billion today. But he's been ruthless in building the company, and has made a lot of powerful enemies." She began ticking them off on her fingers. "Prince Mushtaq of Saudi Arabia and the terrorist groups he controls. The Russian mafia. The South American drug cartels. Various inner city ghetto gangs."

"The St James family must be grateful to him if he's taken such risks to make them richer!"

"That's not the way the world works, sweetie. Reginald St James and even Jack's own son, Martin, do everything they can to make his life difficult. I believe they actually provide assistance to his enemies. Jack's been very good at using his contacts in black ops to build a security barrier around himself, but there have been several attempts on his life."

Miranda's mouth dropped open and she put her hand up to cover it.

"OMIGOD!" she expostulated. "But what about his wife, Carmen? Surely, she loves him and helps him?"

"Oh, Carmen is oblivious to everything. All she cares about are her social functions and parties. She's satisfied that Jack fucks her brains out twice or thrice a week and that he is there for all the ceremonial occasions when she needs a husband by her side. They used to love each other long ago, but it has long since cooled. She's aware that he fucks other women, but chooses to ignore it, to the extent she can."

"So if Carmen divorced him ..." began Miranda.

"If Jack did not have millions at his disposal to buy security, his enemies would kill him within in a week. I lie awake at night worrying about him. Sometimes I get so worried that I throw up."

"Why doesn't Jack do something about it?"

"What could he do? His enemies are not going to say 'Jack screwed us out of tens of millions of dollars, he got some of our best gunmen killed, he made us look like fools, but we'll let bygones be bygones'. "

"I can't imagine how he gets through the day!"

"Deep down, Jack is a soldier. He once said to me, 'Someday someone is going to kill me. Why spoil today's fun thinking about it?' Another time he said to me, 'I was born with nothing, I'm a nobody from nowhere. I've already gotten far more than I ever expected to get.'"

"I'm the mother of his daughter and pregnant with a second one, yet I know so little about him!" Miranda exclaimed.

"What do you want to know?"

"He looks so commanding, surely he can't he a nobody from nowhere!"

"He comes from a military family, all lower ranks," said Farah. "His father was a sergeant, killed in action in the Middle East. His grandfather was killed in Vietnam, his great-grandfather was at Normandy."

"And what about Jack?"

"He spent three years in the Army special forces as a private. That's all I could find out. I even pulled his Pentagon file under the Freedom of Information Act and it contained two pages - his name, rank, and serial number, a photo, and a few inane sentences - 'service in Africa, Iraq, Afghanistan - details CLASSIFIED'. That's all. The detailed record was not public. I tried several contacts, but no one could get me any more details."

"How do you know how to do all this?"

"I was educated at Oxford, I know how to do research," said Farah complacently. "I've spent a few years putting together a database on Jack."

"What for?"

"For the same reason you're quizzing me now. He fucks me every day and bred me. I want to know everything there is to know about my lover and the father of my child."

"Who's his mother?"

"That was also very difficult to find, because it was hushed up. But after I dug through a lot of records, I was able to call in favors from some British journalists to find out."

Miranda was on the edge of her seat.

"So what did you find? Tell me!"

"His father had an affair when he was posted in England - a lot of rough sex, I was told - with Lady Amanda de Waynflete-Beaumont, the daughter of Lord de Waynflete, the 12th Earl of Beaumont. My sources said she was very upset with the pregnancy, but too squeamish to have an abortion. So she went to Switzerland under the pretext of going into drug rehab and had the baby there. She delivered baby Jack to his father, who brought him up as a single dad, carting him from base to base. Jack always jokes that his mother was 'just some whore my father slept with'. But I think it still hurts him very deeply that his mother did not want him."

"Poor Jack," Miranda whispered.

There was a silence for a while and both women sipped their coffee.

"I want to see him again," said Miranda.

"You're a persistent minx," said Farah with sigh. "But it may do Jack good to see how you're glowing with his child in you."

"So you'll help me see him?"

"I'll get him to come to the spa when you are there. I don't know if he will want you, but that's the best I can do."

She rose and Miranda took her hand.

"Thank you," she said.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment, and each saw sisterly affection in the other.

"I'd love to have a three way with Jack and you," said Miranda. "It would be so exciting to see him fuck you."

"You just want to show off," said Farah, her laugh taking the sting out of her words. "Jack told me with a strong gasper you are."

"What's a gasper?" asked Miranda, puzzled.

"You came so much harder when he choked you, didn't you?" When she saw realization dawning on Miranda's face, she went on. "You should try it in a pool. For a gasper, there's nothing like the feeling of drowning to bring on a mind-blowing orgasm."

* * * * *

Jack found her in the spa's jacuzzi and she did not have much difficulty in getting him to join her. Afterward she got him on his back on a chaise and positioned her pussy lips above his enormous organ. She allowed herself on sink down on her haunches with a groan, impaling herself on him, driving him into her with her weight. He lay there and allowed her to rotate her hips, grinding herself on him till she rose to orgasmic bliss, crying out his name. He did not hold back, but came with her, superfluously pumping his piquant load into her pregnant body.

She still straddled him, her huge pregnant belly resting on his hard abdominal six pack. She leaned forward and offered him her breasts, now engorged with mother's milk. The nipples were elongated and wet. Jack took them in his mouth one after the other and suckled contentedly till he drained her. Unweighted from the heavy fluid, her breasts returned to their perky firmness.

His shaft was softening in her pussy and his tart, sperm-laden cum oozed out of her. She kept him in her possessively, and sighed.

"Sex with you is incredible, Jack," she said softly. "But there's so much more to it. I feel safe with you, I never worry about any other man challenging you. With Stan, I'm always on my own - he never defends me."

"I'm not your knight in shining armor, Miranda," said Jack. "Don't build me up to be something I'm not. It's just good sex - let's leave it at that."

"You always say that. But when I look into your soul, when you're cumming, when you're truly exposed, when there's so subterfuge - I see that you are always trying to give me pleasure. Not like Stan, who just uses my body to get off."

"You're wrong, Miranda. To me, you're just a great fuck. Think of all the times I forced fucked you."

"You're a good man pretending to be bad one," insisted Miranda stubbornly. "You don't fool me. I love you, Jack Grierson."

"Don't be stupid, Miranda. I'm no good for you. Stan's your life partner, he'll stay by your side. I won't be there when you need me."

"That night when we started this pregnancy, I was a poor broke girl with a cancelled flight and nowhere to go, about to sleep on an airport bench. I had husband who spent more than he earned, a negative balance in my bank account, credit card bills that I couldn't pay, and was about to be fired for non-performance."

Jack did not respond and waited for her to go on. She offered him her breasts again - he sucked her nipples and speared them with his tongue.

"Then you came into my life again, swept me off my feet, and packed more excitement and pleasure into one night than most women experience in a lifetime."

"I tied you down with your scarf, fucked you in the ass and choked you."

"It was incredibly hot sex," she said dreamily. "I came so hard, I passed out! Every time I think about how you fucked me in the ass, I wet my panties." She giggled like a teenager. "After this baby is born, I want you to do it to me again. Maybe in a pool this time, so I can feel like I'm drowning."

"I left while you were asleep, still tied to headboard of the bed."

"There you go, trying to play the villain again," she said indulgently. "The knots were not that tight, it took me barely ten minutes to free myself."

She ran her fingers through Jack's thick pepper-and-salt hair.

"Soon after I freed myself, I got a call from the hotel general manager, telling me I had been rebooked on an evening flight, but that I could have a very late checkout and keep the room till then. And that the room was mine for another night if I could not get on my flight. I wonder who arranged that?'