"Oh really? I saw the way he was looking at you. What did he say?" Jameson asked, stepping closer to her. She shrugged.
"Stuff. Things. Since I have a thing for Ellie's sloppy seconds, basically, why not give him a try. What a good fuck I must be. What a tease I am for not showing him," Tate replied nonchalantly. Jameson was now pressed against her.
"Would you show him?" he asked, his hands pressing against her ribs and then sliding around to her back. She chuckled.
"If I could tie Ellie down and make her watch, maybe," she replied.
"Kinky. Can I watch, too?" he asked, unhooking her bra and sliding it down her arms.
"I don't think so. You haven't been very good to me lately," she pointed out. He laughed, pulling the towel away from his hips.
"Baby girl, I am always good to you," Jameson countered.
"That's a matter of opinion."
"And your opinion doesn't matter."
And then it was like a switch. He ripped her panties away – the expensive ones he had bought for her – and grabbed her ass, forcing her legs around his waist, forcing his way inside of her. She cried out and slapped her hands against the wall above her head. She was going to put on a performance that Robert and Ellie would never forget.
It was almost comical at first – it was like being in one of Ang's pornos. She said things she normally never said, things she laughed at when other people said them – "You fuck me so good, oh my god, your dick's so big, oh yeah, harder, slower, right there, you're amazing." And of course his name, over and over again. Couldn't let them forget who she was doing this with, after all. She even heard Jameson laugh at one point.
But as his thrusts got harder, the game melted away. She groaned and screamed for real, pounding one hand against the wall. Picture frames fell down. Books came off a shelf. There was a mirror across from them, and seeing their reflection, watching his muscled back and strong legs tense up, his hips moving against her so hard, it was practically her undoing. They hadn't even been standing there that long, and she was already coming like a freight train.
He didn't slow down at all. If anything, he pounded even harder. All his weight was pressing her in to the wall, one hand digging in to her ass and the other gripping her breast painfully. He pressed his face against the side of hers, growling at her through clenched teeth. Called her every filthy name she'd ever heard of, and a couple new ones. She was surprised, though, that he stuck to just names. Usually he liked to really degrade her, say horrible, horrible things about her, but not that night.
After what seemed like forever and two more orgasms for her, he literally dropped her to the floor and loudly told her to suck his cock. While she did so, he braced himself against the wall, beating his fist against it when she nipped at particularly tender areas. When he finally came, he announced it to the whole house, holding her head in place by her hair, pulling at the roots.
More of our games should be like this one.
"How was that? Good enough?" he whispered, breathing heavy as he leaned his forearms on the wall above her. She leaned away from him.
"It'll do for now," she joked, gasping for air as well while she wiped at her mouth. He groaned and grabbed a handful of her hair.
"I can't wait to take you home and really treat you bad," he grumbled, pulling her to her feet and leading her to the bed.
Me, neither.
~10~
Tatum woke up the next morning to Jameson chewing on her butt, literally. She laughed and slapped him away. He informed her that her father would be home in a couple hours, so she should probably get ready and brace herself. He offered for her to join him in the shower, but she knew that never led to getting ready, so she passed and sent him in on his own.
Grumbling, she pulled on her trademark socks, some booty shorts, and a long tank top before heading downstairs. Jameson had bought her an entire wardrobe for the weekend, all miss-priss clothing, but he had been thoughtful enough to include her usual sleep wear. It made her feel more comfortable, and she felt like she was more herself as she wandered in to the kitchen. Her mother was by a coffee pot, watching the coffee fill up.
"Good morning, honey," her mother yawned. Tate managed a smile.
"Morning," she replied, laying her top half across the counter and staring at the pot as well.
"I stopped and peeked in on you around five this morning, but you weren't in your room. Where were you?" her mom asked. Tate glanced at her. Was this for real?
"I was in Jameson's room," she answered truthfully. Had the lady not heard anything?
"Oh my! I thought you were just friends!" Mother exclaimed. Tate stood up.
"We are. We are very, very good friends," she emphasized. Her mother worried her hands.
"Do you think that's such a good idea, honey? I mean, what with Ellie and all, maybe it would be better to ..., you know, not," her mother suggested.
Is she fucking kidding me?
"Mother. I don't give two fucks about Ellie, or how she feels," Tate said in a hard voice. Her mother gasped.
"There is no need to talk like that! You should show some respect for your sister and her feelings!" she urged. Tate threw her head back and laughed.
"Is this a fucking joke? Why should I respect her? Or any of you? She hasn't spoken to me in seven years, she still treats me like the whore of Babylon, and her husband hit on me last night, after she complained about me ruining things between her and Jameson. Daddy doesn't even acknowledge my existence, and you only call me when you're drunk and feeling guilty," she spat out.
Her mother stared at her for a second, eyes swimming with tears, and then she rushed out of the kitchen, letting out a sob. Ellie came in at the same time, jumping out of the way. She watched after her for a second and then turned her glare on Tate.
"See. You ruin everything. Your little show last night was disgusting. Something is wrong with you," Ellie hissed. Tate smiled sweetly.
"That show was the best sex you'll never have, so you're welcome," she replied, blowing a kiss at her sister. Ellie bristled up.
"I've had good sex. I slept with him first, you know," she snapped. Tate laughed.
"Not the same thing at all, Ellie. And it's not a competition, who got him first, who got him last. I didn't want him then, and I don't have him now. You shouldn't even care about who he is, or isn't, fucking; you're married," Tate pointed out.
"But I should have been married to him!" Ellie suddenly shrieked.
"What did you say?"
They both turned to see Robert standing in a separate entrance way. Ellie groaned.
"It was nothing, I didn't -," she started.
"We need to talk, now," he snapped before turning and walking out of the room. Ellie sighed and then glared at Tatum one last time.
"See!? Everything. You ruin everything," she repeated before hurrying after her husband.
Force myself on estranged family, Check. Jameson put sister in her place, Check. Have amazing loud sex that makes everyone uncomfortable, Check. Make mother cry, Check. Ruin a marriage, Check. Awesome family reunion !
Tate puttered around the kitchen, making herself a bowl of cereal and eating it. Then she filled two coffee mugs, knowing Jameson would want one once he was out of the bathroom. She carefully carried them up the stairs, listening for the sound of the shower. It had already been half an hour, but he was still in there. She shook her head. He preened more than a girl sometimes.
She was about to push her way in to his room, when a noise caught her attention. Arguing. The door to Ellie's room hadn't been fully closed, and the sounds of a fight were reaching in to the hallway. Giving an evil little chuckle, Tate tip toed closer, listening to what was being said.
"You stupid fucking bitch!"
Tate was surprised. Robert hadn't seemed like the kind of guy to talk to his wife that way.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ellie was saying over and over again. Tate frowned. Ellie didn't sound upset. She sounded ..., scared.
"Fucking embarrass me!? In front of that whore sister!?" Robert was really yelling now. Tate touched a finger to the doorknob, just barely pressed against it enough to push the door open a smidge. She had a tiny view in to the room. She could see Robert standing, his hands in his hair. Ellie was sitting on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands.
"No! I didn't mean to! I was ..., upset! I'm sorry!"
"You know his New York offices have a contract with my firm! If she bitches to him about her cunt sister, I could lose everything!"
"Cunt" was a special kind of word to Tate. It was the dirtiest of all words, very taboo. Probably got her the most excited. But on the flip side, it was taboo for a reason. It was very bad; an angry, evil word. In her experience, people who used it comfortably in anger were not very nice people. For most people, it took a lot to whip out the C-word in a fight, and Robert had just dropped it like he was saying "good morning" or something.