Page 74 of StoryTeller's Tale

Jake’s shout of delight has me laughing. Within moments, I’m naked again, and shortly after, he’s sinking inside me, using that cock that it wouldn’t take much for me to become addicted to. Then, sated at last, he pulls me into his arms, and we fall asleep.

I sleep restlessly. The noises from the clubhouse seem to go on until late in the night, and I’m constantly disturbed by the loud music or the heavy footsteps and voices walking past our door. Eventually, I must drift off, only to startle awake without knowing what had awakened me.

The one difference to the past couple of months is that while my sleep had been uneasy, it hadn’t been haunted by nightmares, a factor I put down to the man who spent the dark hours snoring softly beside me.

I owe everything to Jake—my rescue, not once but twice. Without him coming to Austin, maybe Knuckles would have taken me again. I’d never have survived a second time.

Jake turns over onto his back enabling me to see his impressive erection tenting the sheet. All of a sudden, I want to do something for him.

While I’ve never done this before, I don’t let my nerves get in my way, nor question whether I can compare to the many girls he’s had go down on him. I slowly move my body, trying not to wake him, taking the sheet down as I go. Then, swallowing at the size of him, take his cock in my hand and press my lips to the head.

He murmurs, but a glance into his eyes shows he’s still asleep. Knowing he’s not yet conscious gives me the confidence to carry on.

Precum is leaking from the tip. It’s salty, neither unpleasant nor something I would seek out, but I get a certain sense of power from tasting his essence. That he’s not sentient of what I’m doing encourages me to experiment. His cock seems to have a mind of its own, and the little twitches and changes in the velvety hardness are the signs whether I’m doing it right.

I’m concentrating on trying out different actions, like sucking him as far as I can inside my mouth, hollowing my cheeks and applying suction, when I hear his voice. It sounds husky and an octave lower than normal, and almost as if he’s in pain.

“Don’t stop. For fuck’s sake, don’t stop.” His fingers tangle in my hair, making the strands tingle as they pull at my scalp. “Oh fuck, Sheri, that feels so damn good.”

Seems that although I’m an amateur, what I’m doing is hitting the spot. It makes me feel powerful, so I redouble my efforts, taking him deeper until it makes me gag.

Immediately he uses the grip on my head to pull me away. “Need to be inside you. Hands and knees, babe.”

So far, we’ve only done it missionary style. I have no idea the difference this position makes nor how much deeper he can get inside me as I press my forehead to the bed. Now it’s me who’s groaning, encouraging him on. My hands scrabble at the sheet, trying to get a grip, something to hold on to, to anchor me, to keep me in this realm, because as my orgasm approaches like a runaway train, I’m certain its power is going to make me pass out.

I scream, as he roars, “Fuck’s sake, babe, you’re strangling my cock. I fuckin’ love it.” He reverts to gentle pumps as I come down from my high, then he pulls out, but only to roll me over so I’m now on my back.

Grabbing my legs, he bends them up, making me feel like a pretzel. With a wicked grin, he slams back inside.

My man’s got stamina.

He resumes pumping in earnest, and it doesn’t take long before my muscles are tensing again, and another powerful orgasm rolls over me. I’m incoherent as I both try to encourage him on and beg him to stop as I can’t take much more. But he has no mercy, allowing me a brief recovery before using that roll of his hips to get my body singing again.

It’s my third orgasm which takes him over. He lets out a deafening roar, a declaration ofmine, as this time I can do little more than whimper.

When his dick ceases twitching inside me, he bends his head and takes my lips. “Fuckin’ love you, woman,” he declares.

There’s no point in me not saying what I’m feeling. “I love you, too.”

He beams as if I’ve just given him the winning ticket to the lottery. Then he pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly. For a moment, we say nothing more.

Then, leaving me sated, he goes to the bathroom. After I hear the toilet flush, he returns with a cloth which he proceeds to clean me with. His hand lingers for a moment on my pussy as if to keep his cum from running out.

“Fuckin’ love that you’ve got part of me inside you. Fuckin’ you bare, best fuckin’ feeling ever.”

“Lot of fuckin’ in there,” I respond, having recovered sufficiently to sass with him. “But I’ve gotta tell you, it’s too late to try to keep it in there. Your swimmers have already succeeded.”

The gleam in his eyes shows me he needs no reminder, as he places his lips to my stomach. “Fuckin’ love you too, kid.”

I swear if it would be possible to get pregnant again, my ovaries would burst from his action.

A loud knock comes on the door, disturbing our tender moment. I sit up and hide my face in his chest. The sex was so unbelievable it had almost made me forget where I am. Now it all comes back with clarity.

“What?” he yells at the door.

“Strider says get your ass up. Said you might as well as with the noise you’re making, none of us are getting any sleep.”

“Asshole,” Jake calls back, while I know my whole body is flushing.

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