Sext(45)

James stands in front of me now, cock still standing at attention in the  open. He's grinning, and he starts to stroke himself again.

"Are you crazy?" I hiss through my teeth.

"Maybe."

I glare at him. "You can't just do things like that."

"It got you to come down here, didn't it?"

"I'm prepping for my interview," I say.

He smiles, and it's a beautiful smile like he isn't standing in front of  me with his shaft at attention. "You looked like you could use a  break."

I sigh, unable to keep my eyes off him. "Why did you work so hard to get  me down here?" Our whispers are soft, and hopefully inaudible.

"I thought of another thing I want to do with you."

"Oh?" Sarcasm drips from my voice. "How can I serve you today?"

"Jerk me off."

It takes me completely by surprise. "What?"

He takes a step forward, his arms bracing the wall behind me and closing  me in. His erection is pressing into my stomach. "Jerk. Me. Off," he  says, his voice so low and dirty I can feel my pussy contract. "I want  to feel your hands on me, stroking me until I come. And when you need  another break … well, then it will be your turn."

Everything suddenly comes into sharp focus. I feel the soft breeze  blowing through the yard, the wall behind me digging into my back, the  heat of his cock through my shirt. His face is so close to mine and  we're breathing each other's breath. "I guess this is part of that  amazing sex we're still having?" I ask.

"You could say that."

I lick my lips, unable to stop myself from teasing him. "And why should I do what you say?"

"No one's forcing you," he says, a hint of a smile on his lips, "but I  think life's better when you take some risks. And you, Vera Caldwell,  you do not take them. I think I can help with that. So today, you do  what I tell you." He presses lips against mine roughly, thrusting his  tongue into me. Oh god, it feels like he's fucking my mouth with his.  Heat spreads through me like a fever and I may have changed my mind.  Maybe I'll fuck him now.

He breaks our kiss. "Vera, put your hands on me. Now."

I do. Reaching between us, I take hold of his cock. It twitches in my  hand and I start to stroke him. Our foreheads are pressed together, and  his breathing is uneven. I lick one hand and then the other, giving them  slick friction. I use them both, squeezing and twisting as I increase  my pace. James bites his lip and I think it might be the sexiest thing  I've seen on his face.

Suddenly I change the rhythm, now giving him slow and deliberate. I fist  my hands around him and drag along his cock from base to tip and back. I  slowly fuck him with my hands and suddenly his eyes fly open and his  body stiffens. His cock shudders in my hand and he spills over into my  palm. I feel his come drip between my fingers. He groans softly, "Fuck."

I'm aroused beyond belief and I know that if he were to touch me right  now I'd be seconds away from coming. He doesn't move, and we're frozen  for a second, recovering. My hand is still covered in him, and a feeling  of raw power flows into me. The knowledge that I made him come, that I  can bring him that kind of pleasure. I want him and I want him now.  "James," I say softly.

Then he smiles. "I think you're going to like what I have planned for you."

My stomach tightens, and if I hadn't been wet before that would have done the trick. "Take me now."         

     



 

He leans into me, and we're eye to eye. "Finish your design. Meet me in  your garden in exactly two hours." Two hours? I groan. If I can make it  that long I'll be amazed. Then, as if he can read my thoughts he says,  "And no cheating. If you come before I get to take my time with you,  I'll know." He kisses me, a rough press of lips and tongue, and then he  is gone. I lean against the wall, staring after him. Two hours to go.

I go back inside and get the drink I made my excuses for and go back to  the balcony and my design. I clean my hands before I join my mother back  on the balcony.

My mother looks up from her book. "That took a while."

"Yeah," I say, clearing my throat. "I got distracted. Realized I had to check something in my email."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice overly cheery.

Two hours. I pick up my eraser and start to work. These designs are the only thing that will keep me sane.



Times slips by and I think I'm as ready for the interview as I could  ever be. Trying to keep my mind off of James and what he's planned has  turned me into an efficiency machine. I finish cleaning up the rest of  my design and use my father's studio to make some copies to add to my  portfolio. I double-check said portfolio and made sure everything I need  is in there. Then I check to make sure that all of it is still in  perfect condition. I also double-check my interview clothes, a sleek  suit that I save for occasions like this.

By the time the two-hour mark rolls around, I'm not only aroused and  excited but also less anxious about the interview. I also changed into a  skirt-my instinct tells me it will be easier this way. As I head  outside, I'm relieved to see that my mother is no longer on the balcony.  The garden is drenched in afternoon sun, and I stop to admire it. This  is one of my favorite times to be here, when it's quiet and sunny. No  place has ever felt more like home than my little garden.

I hear his footsteps a second before his arms wrap around me from behind. "Hello."

"Hi."

He grabs my hand and tugs me into the garden. The grass under my bare  feet is wet, like it's just been watered. I should scold him for  watering my garden again, but I have a feeling he's about to make it up  to me. "How's your design?" he asks.

"All done."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I say. "I got pretty much everything done in the last two hours. I was incredibly focused."

He laughs as he guides me to my bench; I picked it because I thought it  was beautiful, and it became a great place for me to study on the  weekends.

He tells me, "Sit down." And I do. "Close your eyes."

I do not. "Why?"

James smiles. "Because today you do what I say. And," he adds, sitting  down next to me, "I don't want you thinking about anything besides what  I'm about to do to you." His voice pitches down on those last words and I  shiver. I close my eyes. "Keep them closed."

His hand is on my shoulder guiding me so I'm leaning against the back of  the bench. Then it's on my skirt, lifting, his fingers teasing my pussy  through my underwear. My whole body is on alert, waiting for his next  touch. All the arousal I've been ignoring the past two hours comes  roaring back and I'm finding it hard to breathe.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"Yes."

He's no longer sitting next to me. His hands are on my knees and then my  thighs and then my underwear are sliding away. James pushes my knees  apart, and with my skirt up around my waist I can feel the air on my  pussy. I have the urge to open my eyes, to make sure that we're alone  and that no one else can see me. But James asked me to trust him, and I  will even if the thought of being vulnerable in the open makes me shake.

He draws my legs further apart, and I bite my lip. I'm holding my  breath. There's the lightest touch on my clit and my nerves crackle to  life, sending heat through my core. There it is again-just a  flick-barely there. He touches me over and over with his tongue, each  touch a little stronger, each a little more curious. He drags the tip  across the top, cutting so close to my throbbing center, and then I feel  it explore underneath. And then he starts flicking from side to side. I  can't predict where he'll go next.

When he slips a finger inside me, I groan. Sealing his mouth over me, he  sucks hard while his hand works inside me. He adds another finger,  curling them and stroking me from the inside. They slip across that spot  that makes me go blind and my body jerks in response. I feel him smile  against my pussy as he continues to work me with his tongue. The  sensations inside and outside of me combine and send me straight toward  the edge. It feels like the pleasure is being drawn from everywhere in  my body, all of it rushing between my legs to his lips locked against  me. I feel that rush building. I let my head fall back and surrender,  preparing for the wash of pleasure welling up within my body.         

     



 

As he starts fucking me faster with his fingers, I savor the edge of  pleasure before the fall. I'm close, so close, so-and then he stops.  Entirely. His fingers don't move, his mouth leaving my pussy ice cold in  the open breeze. My eyes fly open and I look down to find him grinning.  "Not yet," he says. My jaw drops. I think I might kill him.

He tells me, "Close your eyes."

"James."

"Close your eyes, Vera."

I close them and clench my teeth together. It doesn't matter. As soon as  he touches me again I'll be seconds away from my orgasm. It's still so  close. But James doesn't touch me there. He takes his fingers out of me  and then his hands are running along my thighs and down my calves. The  muscles in my legs relax as he massages, and my orgasm fades.