One quick editorial comment before we return to Vermont, 2025:
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Thanks, Blair P. Clavel
Jessa Meets Her Match
Chapter 11: Bulletproof Breasts
Because my thoughts had been elsewhere, I hadn’t given much consideration to comfort when deciding about getting into Nick’s trunk. The pillow and blankets were better than nothing, but just barely. The spare tire, even though it was smooth, was rubbing into my ribs. That was difficult to ignore, especially given all the bumps and turns.
The minutes passed slowly. It was next to impossible to not think about Catherine riding in that rapist’s, that killer’s trunk on that fateful night in 1985. I attempted to redirect my brain to other things, but I couldn’t help but worry about all the emotions she had to be experiencing. At certain points, I even started questioning my own sanity. This Nick guy – just how well did I know him? There were a lot of things a gal should never do – never, ever do – getting into a guy’s trunk was one of them.
Other insidious thoughts crept into my brain. One of them – I started thinking about how Nick had abandoned me at the junkyard. Why, oh why, did I do that to myself? Being in his trunk was bad enough without questioning what Nick had in mind. But where was he taking me – actually taking me?
The next thing I knew, I was thinking about trying to undress. It would be difficult to accomplish inside the trunk, but then I’d be able to talk to Cathers. Surely she’d reassure me that everything would be fine. But then I imagined Nick opening the trunk. What if he wasn’t alone?
The ride went on and on. He’d said ten minutes. Surely it had been longer than that. Fortunately, my parents had watched me get into Nick’s trunk. Even though I was telling myself that Nick was worthy of my trust, I was glad there had been witnesses.
Eventually, the car came to a stop and Nick switched off the engine. Had we parked? I thought about pulling the lever, but decided to wait. A moment later, I was glad I hadn’t opened the trunk lid – there were voices, male voices, but I couldn’t make out any words. I lay there, my heartrate accelerating. Was something wrong? I tried to think about other things, but that was again impossible. It was pitch black inside the trunk. I would have been freaking out were it not for Catherine’s hand. “I love you, Cathers,” I whispered. “Whatever happens … you and me. We’re in this together.”
There was a click and light flooded into the trunk. I blinked. It was bright, but not as bright as I’d been expecting. “Where are we?” I asked, giving Catherine’s hand what to me seemed like a squeeze before letting go to lift myself up.
“The Stonefield Inn,” Nick said, extending a hand. “I booked a suite.”
Getting my feet under me, I glanced around. We were in a parking area below a building. It was open to the outside in several places. Carrying my suitcase, Nick led the way to an elevator. There was a man next to it.
“Jessa, this is Sergeant Truman. He’s already taken care of getting us checked in. He’ll be on duty all night, watching the perimeter.”
“You don’t look like a police officer,” I said, shaking his hand.
He smiled, a mirthful sparkle in his eye. “Like Harris here, I normally wear a uniform. Not tonight. Low profile.”
“Nice to meet you, and thank you,” I said, smiling but then looking away, my cheeks growing warm. This guy too had surely seen the images. Or had he been in Hammonton that morning? I didn’t ask.
Stepping into the elevator, Nick pushed the button for three, the top floor. Moments later, we were walking down a carpeted hallway. Our room was the last door on the right.
“A corner room,” Nick said, tapping a card to the latch.
I stepped in. There were windows – lots of them. Finally some light! I immediately went to a set of French doors, opening them wide to let in the fresh air. The sun was low. It looked to be just an hour or so until sunset.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Nick asked, opening the small fridge and taking out a bottle. “Truman hooked us up. Good guy.”
I nodded. “I’d love a glass. Just the one bottle? There are three of us, you know.”
He swung the fridge door open, showing me another. Glancing up, I saw that there were already three glasses on the counter. As he worked at extracting the cork, I kicked off my shoes and undid the snap on my pants. I needed to find out how Catherine was doing. Hopefully she wasn’t too shaken.
“Cathers, I’m mad at you,” I said, folding my arms and staring into her eyes. “For fuck’s sake! No more goddamn trunks!”
She looked down. “But we’re a team,” she said in a small voice.
“What?” Nick asked. “She was in the trunk?”
I nodded and saw empathy appear in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jessa. I never thought of that possibility.”
“It’s okay. Leave me alone. I’m fine,” Catherine said, but I wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. She wasn’t acting like herself.
I put my arms around her, trying to comfort her. Looking up, I saw Nick studying me. I tried to imagine what I looked like to him – a nude woman hugging air.
Remembering that I’d promised, I gave my mother a call. I kept it short. I didn’t want to talk to her. I just wanted to keep my word.
A short time later, the three of us were lounging on the west-facing terrace, enjoying our wine as we watched the butterscotch-colored disk of the sun descend through a layer of distant clouds towards a bluish-green Vermont horizon.
It was strangely relaxing. In the back of my mind, I knew that my life would never again be the same, but I was mostly at peace with what had transpired. I wasn’t at all happy that my naked photos were circling the globe, but I had gone in willing ¬– knowing that I would pay a price. And in exchange, a dangerous killer was now locked away. There would be no more victims. As I imagined it, there were young women out there whose lives would not be cut short because of what Catherine, Nick, and I had accomplished.
I was sitting in the middle. Cathers and I were of course nude, Nick completely dressed – still wearing his uniform, in fact, but he’d taken off his gun belt. It was time to relax, to unwind. Time to attempt to put all the stress of the day behind us.
Glancing down, I noticed that the warm glow of the distant sun was shining in between my knees, illuminating my slit and the delicate folds peeking out from within. The tan lines I’d had at the beginning of summer had all but disappeared. It was a situation that I never would have imagined prior to the events of that summer – casually sipping wine while nude – enjoying a sunset with a ghost girl and a divorced cop. But this was my summer, and these were my friends.
“So, are you going to fuck him?” Catherine asked. “That looks like a nice bed in there. Big and bouncy.”
I glanced over at her, initially looking her in the eye, but from there I indulged in taking in the whole of her nude form. She was pretty, quite shapely – a very sexy woman. It almost seemed conceited to be admiring her – we looked so much alike. “Probably,” I replied with a wink.
“Probably?” Nick asked. I spun in my seat and our eyes met.
“Yes, probably,” I repeated.
He nodded, returning his eyes to the view. He’d grown accustomed to not always knowing what we were talking about.
Setting my glass down, I stood up, stepping over next to him. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he angled his head up, looking at me. “She asked me if I was going to fuck you,” I said in a soft voice, just loud enough for Catherine to hear.
His eyes grew wide. I squeezed his shoulder affectionately but walked inside, leaving him there with Catherine. Opening my suitcase, I located my toiletries. A moment later, I was in the bathroom studying my pill pack. Fortunately, it looked as if I’d taken my pill that morning.
Back out on the terrace, I picked up my glass and sat down on Nick’s lap, my body angled to the side facing Catherine. I couldn’t believe how horny I was feeling – a combination of factors, I decided. First off, it had been months since I’d gotten laid – long overdue. Second, we had an audience – just Catherine, but even so, she was watching.
I was trying to be subtle about it, but I was grinding my butt into Nick’s lap (and I could feel the effect I was having on him). Third, the thoughts that were swirling around in my head – of the millions upon millions of people across the country and around the globe who had seen that I was a shaved pussy girl – exposure on an unimaginable scale – exponentially greater than what occurred in the porn industry, I imagined.
I picked up his free hand and lifted it, placing it atop one of my breasts, allowing my stone-hard nipple to poke into his palm. “Yours to play with,” I whispered, wondering how I had managed to suck his dick while receiving nothing in return. He hadn’t gotten off that night, but neither had I. I certainly wasn’t going to be making that mistake again.
A minute later, taking a hold of the same hand, I shifted it down to a position between my legs, encouraging him by pressing his fingers into my already moist folds. “And yours for dessert,” I mouthed. Surely he had already caught a whiff of my arousal. If not, it was now coating his fingers.
I let go as he had taken over, teasing my tender bits by wiggling his fingers ever so delightfully. With a hand behind his head, I started kissing him, running my tongue along his lips, slipping it inside, hinting at what I was in need of down below. As usual, he was a little slow on the uptake, but he seemed to be cluing in.
Just as things were heating up, there was a knock on the door. I stiffened. Sitting up, I clamped my knees together, trapping his hand. “Who could that be,” I asked. “Isn’t Officer Truman supposed to be watching the perimeter?”
“Let’s go and see?” he suggested, a mischievous smile on his lips.
“You go and see,” I said, standing up, my eyes darting around, searching for a spot to hide.
Nick led me back inside, pulling me along by the hand. “Relax, Jessa,” he said. I was dragging my feet and twisting my hand in an effort to get free, but his grip was so strong. “It’s just Truman. I asked him to pick us up some takeout.”
I didn’t care if it was ‘just Truman.’ I was butt naked. As he reached for the doorknob, I attempted to make myself invisible behind him.
Nick opened the door and Truman passed him a couple of bags. “Here you go … dinner for three.”
“Yep, thanks. I’m starving,” Nick said. “Thank the man, Jessa.”
I gulped. Why did Nick seem completely incapable of learning from his mistakes? “Thank you,” I said in a barely audible voice from behind Nick’s back. Feeling shy but imagining that I wasn’t being polite, I leaned to the side, bringing my face out of hiding. “I mean, thank you Officer Truman,” I said so he might actually hear me.
He smiled. I wasn’t sure if leaning to the side had brought much in the way of skin into view, but even so he probably knew that I was nude. Just the way that I was hiding behind Nick was likely evidence enough.
“You guys have fun,” he said, giving Nick a smile and a thumbs up as the door closed.
Nick carried the food in and placed it on the counter. “Nick, ‘dinner for three?’ Why did he say that?” I didn’t want to be upset, but I thought we’d had an agreement.
“Here, feel,” he said, picking the bags back up and handing them to me. I reached out and took ahold of the handles. “Heavy, right?” he asked.
“So he doesn’t know?” I asked, setting the food back down.
“No. How could he? I’m thinking that was just his way of hinting that there seemed to be enough here … in case we might want to invite him in.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. I guess my suspicion showed on my face.
“Jessa, no one’s gonna think there’s a ghost. We’d really have to make a concerted effort to get anyone to believe, so stop worrying about that.”
“Okay,” I said. He was probably right. I’d been quickly convinced, but seeing is believing. Other than Dirk and I, no one could see her.
“It took me a long time,” he went on. “That evening. Rock, paper, scissors. Pretty convincing, yet I spent days trying to come up with an alternate explanation. It seemed as if you might be talking to an imaginary friend. Since you’re so damn sexy, since you’ve got great tits, I wasn’t about to complain. I’m not stupid.”
Nick started placing the food containers on the table while I located plates. He’d ordered Chinese. We worked at serving small first helpings onto three plates while I got Catherine situated across from us, breaking her chopsticks apart and placing them next to the Kung Pao Chicken on her plate.
The food was delicious. “Remember to save room for dessert,” I reminded Nick nonchalantly during the meal. I didn’t want him to forget who was going to be getting hers as soon as we got the chance.
Because I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about it, I asked him how many people he thought had seen the “pictures of li’l ol’ naked me.”
“You, my dear, have the most famous cunnie on the planet,” he said between bites. “In a matter of hours, you went from completely unknown to celebrity status.”
I winced. I hadn’t forgotten that ‘cunnie’ was his ‘go to’ word, but it was still a bit jarring – especially in the context of all that had happened.
“The most famous tits, as well,” he added. “As a matter of fact, there is a video that you might not have seen. It’s awesome.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “I haven’t watched any videos.” I’d noticed links, but they mostly looked to be talking-head commentary. Maybe if I ignored the videos, they would all go away.
“Bulletproof Breasts, is what it’s called,” he said, picking up his phone.
I was curious, but I didn’t really want to see it. Catherine walked around the table to look over my shoulder as Nick tapped to start the video.
It opened with a large text block. “Who needs Bulletproof Vests when you’ve got Bulletproof Breasts!” Suddenly the scene at the standoff filled the small screen. In a state of shock, I saw that it hadn’t been filmed from the police barrier. Instead, it looked as if it had been taken from just across the street, possibly the house whose yard I had cut through. And it was steady. The camera had clearly been on a tripod, seemingly in a second floor window.
I saw myself. I was running along behind the line of cars, bent over at the waist. Finding Nick, I dropped down, taking a seat on the ground next to him. A short time later, Nick started removing his vest. As if it might not have been obvious what was happening, a caption had been added. “Officer Harris offering his Bulletproof Vest,” it read.
“I’m glad that’s on camera,” he said. “I don’t want people thinking I wasn’t concerned for your safety.”
In the next moment, I could be seen refusing the vest. “Fearless woman makes him keep it on. Who needs Bulletproof Vests when you’ve got Bulletproof Breasts!” the caption read. I could be seen holding his arm. A short time later, I was undressing.
“Hardly bulletproof,” I mumbled, subconsciously reaching up and stroking my fingertips lightly across one of my rigid nipples.
Less than a minute later, I watched myself stand up. The contrast was indeed striking – a nude woman on her feet staring boldly at the house, only the lower half of her body protected by the car, while the police officers, all wearing bulletproof vests, were down on their butts, cowering behind their vehicles. What was also noticeable was Nick yelling at me and motioning for me to get down.
As the video continued, it was clear that Nick and I were talking, possibly arguing. Catherine had been there as well, but nothing in the video hinted at her presence. Nick was seen talking on his radio a time or two. And then, suddenly, I dropped down low as a hail of gunfire erupted from the house.
The gunman was visible in a window. He was on his feet, firing, ‘bam, bam, bam,’ into the string of cars. Actually, given the cell phone’s small speaker, it sounded like, ‘ting, ting, ting.’ A shiver passed through me as I thought back to that moment in time.
I was expecting the video to zoom in on the gunman, but that didn’t happen. That made me think that whoever was running the video camera was down low, keeping out of sight.
Moments after the gunfire ceased, the naked me in the video stood back up. “Naked and Fearless. Ready to Attack!” appeared on the screen. I could be seen tiptoeing around the car, encouraging Nick to get up. He appeared reluctant, but then he was on his feet, crouching low. “Radioing his partner, Officer Bixler,” the next caption read.
In the next instant, I saw myself, both of us actually, running toward the house. Even though I was just a tiny figure on the small screen, it was clear that I was nude. What was also apparent was that I was leading the charge.
I watched as the scene at the door unfolded. I knew exactly what was coming; I’d just never imagined that I’d get to see it. The sound of gunfire returned and Nick lifted his gun and fired at the lock. Seconds later, I slipped inside, disappearing from view. I saw Nick and Bixler look at one another. Nick shrugged. He could be seen saying something to Bixler. A moment later, one after the other, they followed me into the house. “And these guys are wearing vests!” the caption read.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“There’s more,” Nick said. “But that’s the good part. For a long time, not much seems to be happening. Later, more policemen go in. Eventually, we come out.”
“I’ll watch it another time. Or never,” I said. It was turning my stomach to think of all that had been captured.
“It’s a kick-ass video, right?” Nick said. “There’s a nice scene, near the end. You in one of the shot-up cars, changing back into your street clothes.”
I glared at him, elbowing him in the gut.
“What? You know I like your tits.”
“You can see them, even inside the car?” I’m not sure why I asked. He wouldn’t be talking about them if they weren’t.
He nodded, setting his phone down.
“I think, I’m going to be sick,” I said. It was all too much.
At times, Nick seemed a little short on compassion. But he was a police officer, more about action, less about feelings. His world was more black and white than mine. He and I were simply different. Truth be told, I was still adjusting to his simplistic, yet arguably logical thinking, but I was making the effort.
“I mean, who needs Hollywood? Who needs CGI when you’ve got Jessa Wilson?” he added.
“At least the quality isn’t that great,” I mused, searching for a silver lining.
“But it is,” he said, picking his phone back up. “See, here’s a link. For a dollar ninety-nine, you can download the 4K Ultra HD version. Whoever shot this video … surely already a multi-millionaire.”
He tapped the link and another page appeared. “This shows the quality,” he said, tapping again to confirm that he was 18+.
There was a zoomed-in image, cropped to show just my chin and upper chest. My candy necklace was crisp, the beads sharp enough to count. My heart skipped a beat as I imagined my freshly shaven slit rendered at the same resolution. Clearly wanting potential purchasers to be thinking the same thing, the caption read. “Ballsy as hell, but nothing dangling down below!”
I closed my eyes in shock. ‘Breathe in. Breathe out,’ I said to myself, trying to figure out how to go on. I shifted my thoughts to again trying to find that elusive silver lining. If there was one, it seemed to lay in the fact that I had behaved in a heroic manner. Who runs unarmed into gunfire – especially naked? No one, right? No one except for me – apparently.
While Nick went about cleaning up, Catherine did her best to comfort me. “Focus on the bright side,” she said.
“There isn’t one. My life is over.”
“No it’s not. And there is a bright side. We got the guy! That asshole’s in jail.”
I nodded. She was right. Putting him behind bars was huge – a big win.
Sipping my wine, I started contemplating if what I’d just said was true. Was my life really over? In a literal sense, it wasn’t. I was still breathing. But the ground had shifted below my feet – a long way – well above nine on the Richter scale. I’d have to carve out a new destiny for myself. My path in life had changed. I couldn’t yet picture what things would look like going forward, but I knew in my heart that it would work out. I’d succeed because I’d take charge. I’d never been a passive participant in my life. Just as I’d seized control of the police operation earlier in the day, I would grab the reins and steer toward a future of my own choosing.
“Cathers,” I told her, “The situation is piled high with difficulty, and I’m going rise high with the occasion. Just you wait and see!”
A puzzled expression appeared on her face. “How much wine have you had?” she asked.
“Not enough!” I said, downing the contents of my glass and hers for good measure.
With that, I started in on Nick’s buttons. He was about to bear the brunt of my new take-charge attitude. “Is this the shirt?” I asked. “The one I was wearing?”
“Yup. It’s been crazy. I didn’t make it by my place to pack an overnight bag. Fortunately, I saw some toiletries in the bathroom … a toothbrush.”
With Nick not putting up any resistance, I managed to get both his shirt as well as his undershirt off. In my opinion, he had just the right amount of chest hair – sexy as hell – a moderate dusting across his pecs, curly and dark like the hair on his head (as well as his mustache). There was also a mouth-watering trail extending straight down from his belly button.
I found myself eyeing the pair of handcuffs on his gun belt, just a short distance away on a side table. After unclipping them, I turned, eyeing him. “I trusted you to close me into a trunk a bit ago.”
His eyes darted anxiously, first to the right and then to the left, but he didn’t reply.
“Where’s the key?”
“Don’t forget. I followed you into that house. If that’s not trust, then I don’t know what is.”
“True. And that was very brave. But this is different. So … do you trust me?” I walked toward him, holding up the cuffs and shaking them so that there could be no doubt what I had in mind. I had to ask a second time for the key, but I didn’t mind. In his shoes, I’d be nervous too.
“I need a bowl of popcorn,” Catherine interjected. “This is going to be fun.”
“You better believe it,” I replied, giving her a wink.
A puzzled look appeared on Nick’s face, but he located a small key and gave it to me.
“Nice!” I said, giving him my most mischievous smile.
I didn’t have any pockets, so key in hand, I slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I climbed up onto the counter. On my knees, I reached up and hid it atop the frame of the mirror. He wouldn’t be able to see it there. He also wouldn’t be able to reach it, not wearing the cuffs. Turning, I startled. Catherine was there. She’d apparently snuck in through the door.
“Don’t do that to me!” I chastised.
“Sorry. Just curious what you have in mind.”
“So am I,” I admitted. “Making this up as I go.”
A moment later, I was again with Nick, kissing him while gently pushing an arm back. “Tonight you’re mine,” I breathed into his ear as I secured his wrists one at a time. He’d cuffed my hands in front. I was taking it up a notch. “Feel vulnerable yet?”
“Umm … focusing on trust.”
I chuckled. His voice didn’t convey quite as much confidence as his choice of words. “That’s good. Because you’re at my mercy.”
“Still trying to get me back for that first night?”
“No. That score’s been settled.”
“The ambush at The Crossroads maybe?”
“Hmm … good point … maybe I still owe you for that,” I said, “…but what I have in mind right now might end up being fun. Are you ready for dessert?” I asked, running my hand across the front of his pants. “Oh my, you certainly seem to be,” I giggled. “I think little Nicky wants to come out and play.”
He looked away. Had I embarrassed the poor lad?
“I’m wondering if this is going to tickle,” I said, running a finger back and forth across his upper lip, trying to imagine what his coarse mustache would feel like against my sensitive lady bits. Truth be told, I was excited to find out.
As I reached for his belt buckle, my eyes locked with Catherine’s. She was sitting on the couch, her heels up on the cushion against her butt, her arms around her legs. “I’ll go check on Truman … give you two your privacy,” she said, shifting her feet down to the floor as she started to get up.
“You should stay. I don’t mind if you watch,” I said, experiencing a flashback – to the moment earlier in the day when I’d caught her with her breasts wrapped around Nick’s arm. “But only if you want to.”
I glanced up and my eyes met Nick’s. He nodded, acknowledging that he understood what was being discussed.
“But just so you know,” I continued, my words directed at no one in particular. “I’ve been known to scream, and it’s been a long time. I might lose it.”
I unzipped Nick, going in for a more intimate feel.
Catherine was laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Listening to you. Watching you. I was never this aggressive, but one similarity. I was a screamer. Maybe that runs in the family?”
I smiled. “Then you have to watch! Maybe it will make you feel alive.”
“I already feel so alive.”
“Me too. And get a load of this boner!” I said, pushing Nick’s pants and underwear down and lifting his penis up so that Catherine could have a good look.
She didn’t reply. Glancing over, I saw that she had her hands up in front of her face. Looking carefully, I saw that she was peeking out between her fingers.
With a firm grip on Nick’s rock-hard cock, I used my other hand to take a hold of the chain connecting the cuffs, giving it a gentle tug. Normally, under such circumstances, I wouldn’t waste any time getting him in my mouth. I knew it was an oral fixation of sorts, but I enjoyed it and guys loved me for it, so why not? Just not tonight, or at least, not first.
After helping him step out of the last of his clothing, I started circling. “You’ve been the only one dressed for far too long,” I remarked. “Why have I let you get away with that? Or do you just like being dressed in the presence of two naked blondes?”
I waited, but he didn’t answer. After taking a few moments to admire his muscular, masculine form from every angle (and giving Catherine the opportunity as well), I led him by his rigid pole into the bedroom. I’d learned long ago that men become docile when you hold onto them like that – especially if you do it firmly – they’ll follow you anywhere. A stiff penis – the perfect leash.
I got him situated on his back on the bed, his hands centered under his butt elevating his pelvis. “Such a sexy cock … and oh, so vulnerable!” I taunted.
With his eyes following my every move, I turned off the lights and opened the curtains. It wasn’t as romantic as candlelight, but, thanks to the town of Stonefield, the level of illumination in the room was about the same.
I knelt next to him on the bed. After placing a pillow under his head, I leaned down, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “This pillow, Nick,” I said. “It’s not for your comfort.” I didn’t explain further. If he couldn’t figure out why I was elevating his head, then he had a lot to learn.
I snuggled up against him. It was a tranquil moment – quite relaxing, really – the calm before the storm. Nick couldn’t exactly participate as he might have liked, but I spent a few minutes running my hands gently up and down his body, becoming better acquainted with his skin – enjoying him. I touched him everywhere, with one exception. I was avoiding his dick entirely.
Bringing my face to his, I kissed him, square on the mouth. I pushed my tongue in between his lips, but from there I licked teasingly up the side of his face, branching over to an ear. I didn’t recall ever being in a more randy mood. And I loved that Nick had to be thinking of who was in charge. That was by design, but I was also setting the scene romantically. There would be sex, but this was an evening for making love – wild, passionate love. It had been a bumpy path, but I’d fallen for the guy – hard.
Deciding that I couldn’t wait any longer, I climbed up onto my feet. Standing atop the bed, I towered over him, a foot on each side of his hips. His cock was pointing up, but at an angle. It hovered above his lower abdomen. It was a beautiful cock, a lonely cock. I almost felt sorry for it. He couldn’t touch it and since dragging him into the room, I hadn’t. Walking slowly forward on the mattress, I got to where I had a foot beside each of his shoulders. “How do you prefer your pussy, Officer Harris?” I asked, smiling down at him.
“Juicy,” he responded, staring up between my legs, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “But don’t you mean, cunnie?”
“Not tonight,” I said in a friendly but confident voice. Even though I’d made an attempt, I hadn’t warmed up to his term. ‘Cunnie’ wasn’t ‘cunt,’ but almost. “Tonight, it’s a muffin, Officer Harris. You’re having my muffin for dessert.”
He smiled and nodded, but didn’t reply verbally. I wasn’t intending to overplay my hand, but I was definitely calling the shots.
I dropped down to my knees, bringing myself within inches of his face. I studied Nick’s expression as he gazed up into my glistening folds. His breath between my legs mingled delightfully with the cool air as my scent filled the room. I didn’t much like my inability to hide my arousal under such circumstances, but it was something I could do nothing about.
“Don’t move. I’m going to kiss you,” I said, allowing my knees to slide out, cutting the distance between my labia and his mouth in half.
I paused. “Unless you don’t want me to.” I’d always been of the opinion that a man should return the favor of oral sex, but even though I was feeling the effects of the wine and had him at a disadvantage, I wasn’t going to force myself on anyone.
“Be my guest,” he replied, the corners of his mouth curling up delightfully.
I continued descending toward him – until our lips met. Nick puckered up and kissed me square on the pussy. I held my position, resisting the temptation to press down. It was a surprisingly tender moment – at least as far as oral sex goes – the contact light and romantic.
Because I couldn’t pucker, I twirled my hips ever so slightly, brushing my lips across his. I wanted it to be a kiss he’d remember. Moments later, I rose back up, lifting myself from his face. I stared down at his wet mouth, my knees again close to his ears.
A puzzled look appeared in his eyes. He raised his head from the pillow, advancing toward me.
“Nuh-uh,” I scolded. “I distinctly remember telling you not to move.”
He sighed, relaxing back onto the pillow. I again studied his expression. There was desire in his eyes. My own anticipation was at an all-time high. But even so, I felt like drawing out the moment. I wanted him to be an enthusiastic, talented pussy licker – as good as Dixie. She and I had been together for two years in college. No man had ever licked me as enthusiastically as she had. She was a true pussy connoisseur.
I was delighted with where things stood with Nick. I couldn’t imagine returning to my college days – even if I’d experienced a nurturing relationship in Dixie’s arms (and oral sex par excellence). Yep, I couldn’t go back. She and I, we’d both been committed LUGs – Lesbian Until Graduation. There’d been six of us. We’d hung out together – an informal sorority of sorts, an anti-sorority really. And three of us, Dixie, Kelsie and I, we’d actually followed through. Thanks to the power of social media, I knew what the other five were up to.
The other three? The commitment hadn’t been right for them. But that was fine. At least they seemed to be happy. If you’re bi-sexual, then the most important thing is finding a soulmate, male or female.
Looking down, I contemplated Nick. He had that edgy quality that my mother disliked in men, but at least he was on the right side of the law.
I reached down. After pausing to stroke his scruffy jawline with the back of my nails, I intertwined my fingers, all ten of them, in his hair. Slowly lowering myself back down, I pulled, guiding his mouth to my pussy. Rocking my pelvis, I started massaging his face with the whole of my crotch – gently – coating his chin, his mustache, his nose, all the way up to his eyes with my juices.
“How’s this for turning the tables on you, Mister Officer, Sir? I’ll bet you never imagined ending up here the night you tackled me in the street … the night you cuffed me?”
He attempted to reply, but I smothered his words with a mouthful of female flesh. I wasn’t nearly as interested in hearing him talk as I was in using him for my own personal gratification.
“More tongue, Mister Officer, Sir,” I coached, wiping my sex up and down across his mouth, smashing my little pearl into his nose on each upswing.
I looked around for Catherine. She was there, leaning against the window sill. She wasn’t watching. Instead, she was gazing pensively out the window at a slumbering Stonefield.
Turning my attention back to the man between my thighs, I lifted up, again breaking contact. From there, I slid down along his body, bringing us face to face. Thanks to the light coming in through the window, his skin glistened with my nectar. “How’s your evening going, Mister Officer, Sir?” I asked, kissing his pussy-flavored lips.
“Pretty good, actually,” he replied, “but if you remove the cuffs, I could show your titties the affection they deserve. I’m thinking they would enjoy that.”
I smiled. “I’m sure they would.” A half a second later, he had a breast mashed against his face. “Say ‘hi,’ but be gentle,” I instructed, pressing a ripe cherry in between his lips. He nipped at it playfully.
“Forget the gentle,” I countered.
He snickered, but then attempted to inhale my breast whole. It felt heavenly. I wasn’t a particularly chesty woman, but my boob was certainly quite a bit more than a mouthful. Even so, he did his best, and I loved that he was trying. My tits had been wanting for such attention. I let him feast on that breast for almost a minute before offering him the other. After both of them had gotten several turns, I pulled free to again kiss him.
His face still smelled of me, but it wasn’t a flavor I had ever shied away from. “You taste like pussy, Mister Officer, Sir,” I said, licking his mustache.
“Don’t you mean muffin?” he asked.
I smiled. Maybe it was the wine, but I didn’t much care what we called it – at least not right then – as long as it got the attention it craved.
“I’m thinking you’re ready for more,” I whispered seductively into his ear while lightly humping his thigh – so there could be little doubt what I had in mind.
I laughed, imagining that he’d rather fuck than lick pussy.
Seconds later, I was again astride his face. The preliminaries were behind us. My ‘muffin’ was ready to be eaten. This was the main course. His dessert – my main course! With the fingers of one hand again intertwined in his hair, I directed his attention to the center of my being. The other hand, I had up on the headboard, steadying myself.
I again rocked my hips, teasing his nose with my clit. Or was it the other way around? The sound of wet friction filled the room, and I could definitely feel his mustache. I danced on his face for at least fifteen minutes. It was more important to do it right than to be quick about it. After all, Nick was my captive. The tricky part was remembering to lift up from the grinding once in a while. I didn’t want to suffocate the poor lad.
Every few minutes, I paused long enough to make sure he was okay. Since I’d told him about Liam and the pictures we’d taken in his roadster, I encouraged Nick to think of his tongue as a gearshift knob and to try and draw an H-pattern my G-spot. His nose belonged to my clitoris, but I needed his tongue deep inside. He didn’t act as if he was used to receiving pussy licking instructions, but to his credit, he was a willing pupil.
There was a spark, a bright light, and then a firework rainbow erupted as a full on orgasm engulfed me, warming me from the inside out. Temporarily losing control, I smashed Nick’s head down into the pillow, thrashing against him ruthlessly. His mustache was going to be saturated. He’d be smelling me for a week. I didn’t care. I didn’t know if he’d agree, but it was worth it, so very worth it.
I slowed down, attempting to catch my breath, but it wasn’t long before I felt the heat within my core building toward a second colorful flare-up. I spun around, planting myself on his face such that his nose was more or less between my cheeks. I didn’t know if Nick would like that or not, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to complain. He could try, but I didn’t imagine I’d hear.
Facing that direction, I grasped and admired his cock in the faint light. It had a nice G-spot curve to it. I palmed it, pressing it against his abdomen, as I continued smothering him with pussy – grinding, grinding, grinding. My other hand was busy pinching and pulling on my sensitive nipples. I would have enjoyed letting him do that, but his hands were locked away below his ass.
The light and the heat from my second climax was maybe not quite as intense as the first, but it was every bit as polychromatic – certainly more sustained. I had a solid grip on his dick, but I was behaving – holding tight but limiting the friction. His first load was destined for my vagina. Oral was fine. As a matter of fact, it was my favorite; however, I’d decided that I was finally going to fuck him. I smiled to myself. I really did like being in charge.
During the interval after my second orgasm, Nick remarked, “I’m not complaining, but it was my impression that getting tested … the STD panel you mentioned … was important to you.”
I laughed. I was again licking my feminine secretions from his face. “After what we braved today … instant death at the hands of a serial killer … I’m not too concerned. Besides, you were monogamous for ten years. I had a few more partners than you, but I’ve always been careful.”
I glanced around in the dim light. Catherine was there. Our eyes met.
“You are a screamer,” she acknowledged. “Quite a bit of loud moaning as well.”
“Really? I only remember the rainbow.”
She smiled and a knowing look appeared in her eyes. Catherine experienced the rainbow!
“Awesome!” I said, full of enthusiasm. All the women I’d talked to, and I’d never met another one who described an orgasm in colorful terms. It was so cool to learn that Catherine and I might be alike in that regard as well.
“But you didn’t hear the dogs howling?” she asked. “All over Stonefield. You set them off.”
“I did not. Nick, she’s lying, right? Tell me she’s lying.”
His expression was blank.
After explaining to him what Catherine had said, he confirmed that, I had in fact, been quite vocal. He hadn’t heard any dogs, but then again, I’d been on his face, my thighs over his ears.
Still laughing, I again spun around, this time lining his member up with my vagina. We were a couple. It was high time we did some coupling. I directed the bell-shaped head into my eager opening. Things were more than moist. I lowered myself down onto him slowly, drawing the moment out for all it was worth. Wanting to savor our first time, I was planning to go easy on him – to draw out the experience for both of us. I had little success with that. Something about having my way with a man who had his hands pinned beneath him had my libido cranked up to full tilt.
Using Nick as my own personal fuck-toy was fun. Completely sober, I might not have allowed myself to indulge so wantonly, but as it was, imagining that I was taking him against his will was fueling my ardor.
Several thrilling minutes later, sensing that he was spurting into my depths, I stopped bouncing and started grinding for all I was worth – my clit into his pubic bone – attempting to cum along with him. While I saw the colors, all of them, that didn’t end up being my most powerful orgasm of the evening. But that was only because the first two had been so kaleidoscopic.
I collapsed down onto him, and we spent the next ten or so minutes catching our breath – and snuggling.
“I’ve got to pee something fierce,” he announced after a while.
“Go ahead,” I said, getting up and helping him to his feet.
“Like this?” he asked, his tone forlorn. My eyes followed his down to where his slippery-looking penis hung in front of him.
“Need help with your aim?” I asked.
That ended up being fun. Maybe Freud was right. Maybe women were castrated beings. But that didn’t mean we never got to enjoy dicks. Not quite everything went into the bowl, which, I admit, was entirely my fault. I wasn’t in the most serious frame of mind. I found myself aiming here, and aiming there. Pointing his pecker at the middle – way too boring – for me, anyway.
I was considering teasing Nick, saying that the key must have fallen down behind the cabinet – something like that. Indeed, he deserved it. He’d joked about my clothes not being in the Jeep the time at the junkyard. But being the nice girlfriend that I was, I hopped up on the counter to retrieve it. Shortly thereafter, he was rubbing his wrists.
“Was getting laid worth the discomfort?” I asked, leaning against him and looking deep into his eyes.
“Well … what?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“Just hoping you’ve got that out of your system.”
“The handcuffs … maybe. The sex? You and I … we’re just getting started.”
A short time later, we were again snuggling on that giant hotel bed. I’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to be held. Especially when it was someone you cared about. Did I love him? I wasn’t sure, but the needle had moved a great distance in that direction – and all in the space of just one day – one amazing day.
I looked around for Catherine. She was nowhere to be seen.
~ ~ ~
I was up surprisingly early the next morning, especially considering the amount of wine I’d consumed. Helping Catherine keep up appearances, I’d been drinking from two glasses. It just wasn’t quite believable that she was there if her glass stayed full – if it never moved.
Leaving Nick alone to sleep, I wandered out of the bedroom. Catherine was on the porch. I went out and joined her, taking a seat.
“You look cold,” she remarked.
“I’m fine,” I replied, glancing down at my nipples protruding from my goose bump coated chest. I didn’t know what the day held, but I knew I’d be dressed. We’d have very little time to talk. I wanted to ask if she knew why she was still stuck between two worlds, but bringing it up seemed as if it might jinx the situation. I didn’t want her to disappear, but I also didn’t want her to be forever in limbo. Neither of us knew what heaven would be like, but I imagined it had to be nicer than her lonely existence on earth these past forty years.
After two cups of coffee and some stimulating conversation, some of it about orgasms, I wandered in to check on Nick. He shifted as I approached the bed, and something caught my eye. He was tenting the sheet like an eagle scout.
Being a morning wood aficionado, I slipped under the covers next to him. Taking my time, I positioned myself above him, my weight on my arms and legs. I lined my pelvis up carefully, and slid down, engulfing him fully. He started to wake up just as my pubic bone collided with his.
“Good morning,” I cooed, grabbing his wrists and pinning him to the mattress. His eyes shot wide open. He glanced around as if trying to get his bearings. “Here, let me help you,” I said, lifting his hands to my breasts. “You wanted to last night. Today, you have my permission, but be gentle.”
A moment later, he had his neck twisted around. He was staring at the light coming in through the window. He quickly returned his attention to the naked woman on top of him. “You like being a cowgirl, don’t you, Muffin?”
I groaned, wondering if I had just acquired a nickname. At first, it seemed lame, but then it started to grow on me. I’d certainly been called worse.
Hoping that it would be forgotten if I didn’t acknowledge it, I replied, “I like being in charge. Riding cowgirl, I’m in charge. I placed my hands over his to help him out. He was again being too gentle. He still hadn’t learned that ‘be gentle’ was code for ‘I like it rough.’ His wife, whatever her name was, sure hadn’t trained him well. I had my work cut out for me.
Squeezing my boobs firmly, using them as love handles to lift me up and pull me down, he spoke. “You know what that video is missing? The Bulletproof Breasts video?”
“Are we going to fuck or talk?” I asked, not wanting to hear his thoughts on what the video was lacking.
“I wish there was a clip of you springing into action, jumping on his arm and saving Bix’s life. You naked, an armed man twice your size. Kicking him in the face until I could get there.”
“Not sure where that came from … adrenalin, I guess,” I said. I didn’t want to come right out and say it, but I was very proud of how I had risen to the occasion.
“I’ll bet it’s on my body cam. Bix’s too. I’m wondering if there is a way to leak that clip. That could be today’s lead story. If only the media had it.”
I sucked in a breath, inadvertently lifting myself free of his dick. Nick took a hold of it, keeping it upright. Reaching for me, he tried to get me to relax back down onto him, which I allowed.
“That’s fucked, Nick. If this relationship is going to work, you need to get my permission before you do something crazy like that … anything that affects me.”
He nodded as I grabbed his hands, returning them to my chest. “Anything that affects me,” I repeated.
To Be Continued…
Author’s note: If you are reading and enjoying Jessa Meets Her Match, I would love to hear from you! You may comment here on the storyboard (as ‘anonymous’ or register and give yourself a name). Alternately, feel free to send me an email: BPClavel@gmail.com
Very best regards,
Blair P. Clavel
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