Tamara Larson - Open House

He breathed in her essence. She was so wet and flushed a delicate pink. He could see everything and was struck by how truly beautiful a woman's body could be. He licked at her opening, tasting her and groaned at the flavor. She was unbelievably sweet. All restraint finally left him and he buried his face between her thighs, only half aware that she had moved her thighs until they bracketed his head. He could feel the leather of her boots against his back and even the pinpoints of her heels digging into his flesh. But it was all secondary to the sensation of her warm, slippery flesh against his tongue.

"Jack?" Lacey cried out as he slid one long finger into her pussy. Her inner muscles tightened and he licked delicately around her exposed clit, moving his finger slowly in and out of her, loving the way she moved her hips in tandem with his rhythm in order to maximize the penetration. On the second or third retreat he added another finger and her movements became frenzied and out of control. Finally, he swiped directly at her clit with his tongue and she came apart, crying and grasping his head tightly with her thighs and yanking his hair in both her hands.

As soon as her grip loosened, Jack was up off his knees. Without another moment's hesitation, he lifted her thighs high up around his waist and impaled her in one sure thrust.

Oh God. It was so good. Even better than he'd imagined.

Lacey was overwhelmed with sensation. One second she had been having a truly intense orgasm from Jack's expert oral skills and the next she was being ravaged by a barbarian. She loved it. All his restraint was gone and he was pumping inside of her with wild abandon. The strength of his thrusts actually moved her hips along the granite. She was completely at his mercy and wouldn't have it any other way. His deep and forceful penetration should have been painful, but he had prepared her body so thoroughly that she was easily able to accommodate his driving pace.

She tightened her thighs around him and the friction began to work its magic. She was going to come again. She looked up at his gorgeous face and was thrilled at the intensity in his gaze. He was looking down, watching his cock plundering her body. It was so good. Lacey leaned back and reached above her, luxuriating in the feeling of being so thoroughly pleasured by this man. Of their own accord, her hips began bucking against him, and she was powerless against the wave of sensation that flooded her body once again.

Jack felt Lacey's orgasm along the entire length of his shaft. She rippled around him and her cry of release was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Finally, he could let go. He lifted her thighs higher up around his back, and drove into her, fucking her with all the pent up desire and frustration of the past several months. It was intense and primal and definitely the best sex of his entire life. He felt the tightening in his balls, and then unbelievable waves of pleasure. His hoarse cry echoed in the empty room and he slumped forward, resting his head against her breasts, only half aware of her hands creeping up to cradle him there.

"God, Lacey, I'm so sorry," Jack whispered against her breasts a few minutes later, when his harsh breathing had settled and he was able to speak. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Lacey laughed and slid one hand through his silky hair. "No, you didn't hurt me at all. And you don't need to apologize for a thing. I loved every second."

"Seriously? I know I'm too rough. It's not an excuse, but I was so excited and it's been so long. I totally lost it." He lifted his head up from her chest and helped her to sit up, but remained between her thighs. The polite thing to do would have been to disentangle himself, but he just couldn't do it. She felt amazing around his shaft and he didn't seem to be going soft, despite the amazing orgasm he'd just had. Perhaps if they tried again he could be gentle and not disappoint her.

"Jack, listen to me." She ran the fingertips of one hand over his lips and caught his eyes with hers. "Rough or gentle. I love what just happened between us. And the fact that I make you so excited that you can't control yourself makes me incredibly hot. Couldn't you tell?"

"Well, you did practically suffocate me with your thighs at one point, but I can't think of a better way to go."

Blushing, she covered her face with one hand. "Well, it's been awhile for me too. But I'll try not to put you in a headlock next time."

"Next time? Meaning this wasn't just some isolated event brought on by months of prolonged frustration?"

"Well, partly that. But like we said before. I think there's something here. Something good. More than sex. What do you think?"

He paused and looked down at where they were still joined. Reluctantly, he gently disentangled himself and reached down to pull his pants up around his hips. It just didn't feel right to talk about this while still cradled in her moist heat. But he stilled her hands as she moved to gather her dress around her, stopping her from covering up those delicious curves. He could use her beauty as a distraction and hopefully wouldn't get too emotional.

He cleared his throat and brushed her hair off her face with one large warm hand so he could read her expression. "Well, when we met, I didn't really think I was capable of more than the sex part. Losing Deborah and the baby did something to me -"

"Baby? What baby?"

"My son. The one who died in the car accident."

"What car accident?"

Jack stared at her in shock. How could she not know about this? It had been all over the news. "The one two years ago that killed Deborah. She was eight months pregnant. And I was driving."

"What?" Lacey nearly shouted.

"Didn't Serena tell you about this?"

"No, of course not. Do you think I would have been lusting after you if I'd known you were just widowed?" She moved to grab for her dress again, but he kept an iron grip on her hands. She grunted in exasperation, suddenly feeling naked in a very bad way.

Jack knew he should let her get dressed. But as long as she was nude she wouldn't be able to leave and walk out on him. He just couldn't face that kind of rejection. Not again. And especially not after finally making love to her after all this time. But he felt her slipping away from him and it made him feel desperate and angry so he lashed out. "Oh. I get it. Too much baggage. I'm sorry if my grief isn't very attractive. I had no idea it was such a mood killer."

"Jack, don't be ridiculous. That's not what I meant. You took me by surprise here. What I meant was that I shouldn't be chasing after you when you needed time to grieve. It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? To who?"

"Well, your wife. You're probably still mourning her, and I'm all over you. I'm so embarrassed. How could I not know any of this?"

"Believe me. My wife would be relieved to know I'm moving on. She certainly did. Long before the accident." He said, bitterly.

"What do you mean, Jack? She was having an affair? The baby, it was yours?"

"Yes, it was mine. Considering she'd moved on with a woman from her Pilates class, I'm reasonably sure that it was. Unfortunately for her, we still had sex occasionally. At least twice or three times a year, if I was lucky." He let go of her and ran both hands through his already messed up hair. It stood up on end and he edged away from her, expecting her to bolt.

Instead she reached out and palmed his cheek with one hand. The gesture was incredibly sweet, and he closed his eyes in reaction.

"Oh my God. Poor Jack. I'm so sorry."

Hearing the awful pity in her voice he pulled away from her hand and leaned casually against the counter, doing up his belt while looking away from her. "Sorry my wife was gay, or sorry that you just had sex with a guy with a pretty messed up past?"