Chapter Twelve
Lily
A week had passed now.
A whole entire week.
Nothing had happened. Barely a word had passed between Jackson and me, save for the curt ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ he uttered when he picked me up and drove me to and from work in the mornings and evenings. There was no conversation aside from that, no promising glances. Not like there was last Monday.
The days had tormented me, seeming to stretch endlessly, like a never-ending straight road in the desert. I had no idea where he was spending most of his days or what he was doing (although I assumed it was all work-related things), let alone why he was doing this. Maybe he simply couldn’t risk being seen doing anything even remotely flirtatious at work (that made perfect sense, to be honest) but what about outside of it? When he came to give me rides, he literally said nothing other than ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, like I said earlier, and it was the same at the end of every day when he dropped me off. It was agonizing. I was starting to get a feeling it was supposed to be some kind of test, though. Something to prove that he could make me wait and have me whenever he wanted; something to get me all hot and riled up in the process.
Boy, was it working.
I was going crazy with need. I wanted nothing more than to see him, touch him, taste him for the first time, and all I did was stand on edge, waiting for the moment he’d come to me. Talk to me. Everywhere I went, I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to see him behind me, and every time I heard a man’s voice, I practically jumped. I couldn’t even sit still from the tingling between my legs every day of the week, so it was damn lucky that the internship was keeping me on my toes so much. The work was mostly grunt stuff—making coffees, sending emails and thank you notes to donors, calling other possible donors, helping to plan fundraising events, photocopying…the usual intern things. But I was seeing how things worked behind the scenes, and I was learning a ton. It was definitely all worth it.
I sighed as I stepped up the garden path and fumbled with the key to the front door. Today had been more of the same—menial tasks, phone calls and total ignorance from Jackson as usual. A horrifying thought suddenly occurred to me. What if he wasn’t just tormenting me as part of a sexy plan to get me all hot and bothered, tease me till I couldn’t take it anymore? What if this was it? Maybe he’d realized we were crossing a huge line. Hell, not even a line—starting anything between us, especially something so naughty….that wasn’t just crossing a line, it was crossing the entire Atlantic.
God, I dearly hoped that wasn’t the case.
I picked up some mail that’d been dumped on the doorstep and headed inside, still fretting about it, and I sighed as I saw the house in darkness. Once again, dad was off working late. I wished he’d come home for dinner with me again, like he did last week. That was so nice, actually sitting down and eating a home-cooked meal together.
I frowned as I glanced at the mail. There was a package addressed to me, and also a letter. The letter had my name printed in small block letters, but the package was addressed to me in familiar handwriting. I’d seen it enough times on papers at the campaign office.
Jackson.
Finally, some contact. I squealed with excitement and dropped the other smaller letter, wondering what on earth Jackson would’ve sent me. Grabbing a knife, I carefully cut the tape that bound the cardboard box together, and I puckered my brows in confusion as a pink velveteen bag fell out along with a note.
I decided to read the note before delving into the bag.
L – I have a gift for you. A toy, but not the kind you’re used to playing with. I bought it for you, but my toy box is where it belongs at all times after you are done with it. Use it, and don’t wash it. I want to smell you on it; want to know you really did it. Do it now, and bring it over to me when you’re done. Remember, dirty girl – you made a promise. You do exactly as I say at all times or face the consequences….
D.
I smiled, knowing why he’d signed it with a ‘D’ instead of ‘J’ for Jackson. D for daddy. He was really loving that whole thing, and I had to admit, it got me tingling like mad too. I quickly read the note again, wondering what else was in this ‘toy box’ of his. Maybe one day he’d let me find out…
Just in case Dad happened to come home soon, I gathered up the things back into the box and then padded down the hall to my bedroom. If this toy was anything like what I was picturing, then it wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted my father seeing.
When I reached my room, I sat down on the bed and reached into the pink bag, and I gasped as I pulled out my new toy and read the information on the side of the see-through box it came in. Jackson was right; this wasn’t like any other toy I’d ever had. It was a candy pink-colored thing called a Teaser Vibe according to the box label. There were details and instructions on its use inside the box, and I began to read them.
Featuring five modes of perfectly-targeted vibration, the Teaser Vibe packs a ton of intense stimulation into a classic bullet made even better with the addition of a clit-pleasing sleeve slipped over the top. Perfect for all sort of external pleasure-seeking, the Teaser’s soft tip pinpoints the clitoris and nipples with ease. A single button on the sleek remote allows for easy customization of five modes of steady and pulsating vibration. Requires batteries (sold separately).
I wrinkled my nose. Those details seemed so….clinical. I knew the manufacturer was simply explaining the basics to the consumer, but there was nothing hot about reading about batteries being sold separately. Luckily, there were more instructions from Jackson with the toy, written in his neat handwriting on a small note attached to the back of the Teaser box.
Lily,
1) Unpack your new toy. I already put batteries in it for you. Don’t just look at it, touch it. Play with it. Get used to the feel of it. Run it slowly over your clit, without turning it on.
2) Think of my hands, my tongue, my cock. Imagine them. Then imagine me between your legs with all of them. Turn on the lowest vibe setting by pressing the little dark pink button on the remote attached to the base, then close your eyes.
3) Put the toy on your nipples first, then move it down to your clit. Keep your eyes closed and your mind on me.
4) Come for me. On the toy. Don’t pull it away—cover it in your juices, but don’t put it inside yourself. I want to be the first one inside you. I’ll know if you break this rule, Lily. If you do, there will be consequences…
5) Bring the toy straight to me afterwards. I’ll be waiting.
- Your new Daddy….
I pushed up my skirt, took my panties off and squirmed on the bed, already aroused by instruction number two—think of certain parts of his body on mine. But I had to follow the instructions in order. I’d never had a sex toy before, let alone touched one, and I picked it up and slowly ran the tips of my fingers down the smooth pink body of the vibe. Wanton heat pooled between my legs, and I jumped as I accidentally set the thing to vibrate on the highest setting.
“Oh!”
I turned it off and set it down on top of the pink bag, wondering if I was ready to use such a toy. I’d always pictured things like this being used by older, worldlier women who knew what they wanted and were in charge of their own sexuality. Me…I didn’t even know what sex felt like. I’d touched myself before—I discovered that a couple of years ago—so I knew what it was like to come, but I knew there would be a world of difference between using my own fingers and having someone else’s mouth, hands and cock on and in me.
I leaned back and tentatively rubbed the vibe between my legs, getting used to the cool, slick feeling. I knew it wasn’t close to what a cock would feel like, but it still felt nice having something other than my fingers down there. And speaking of cocks….I was supposed to imagine Jackson’s now. I had no idea what it might look like—I knew men were all different, and I’d only seen a few online before—but I pictured his to be perfect in my mind. Big. Thick. Hard. Ready to pound me senseless.
Warm tingling sensations exploded between my legs as I pictured him touching me. Licking me. Sliding his cock into me. I wanted so badly to replace the toy with him instead, so I could feel his hard cock inside me and his fingers rubbing my clit, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. At least not yet.
His toy would have to be enough for me for now.
Opening my eyes, I pressed the first pink button on the toy, gasping as it immediately began to buzz in my hands, and I ran it over my nipples, teasing them into stiff points. Then I lowered it to my pussy. I trailed it up and down my slick folds, slowly and carefully, and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from moaning as I teased my clit, buzzing the toy over and around it.
God…this felt so good. Way better than my hands. Everything tightened inside me, a sweet tension building with each rhythmic stroke. With each movement of the toy, my clit pulsed and my stomach fluttered, making my head spin. I could feel my muscles clenching, and I gasped, humping the toy like I was on heat. I pictured Jackson’s cock rubbing my clit instead before pumping inside me, and I reached up with my free hand and pinched my stiff nipples, imagining it was him instead.
Breathing harshly, my body already slippery with sweat, I groaned and scrunched my eyes shut again. Panting and frantic now, I shuddered my way to a climax, and I knew I’d never orgasmed like this. Never so hard. Never so fast. Tremors shook my body, and I kept the toy pressed up against my pussy, running it all over my lips and further down so that I coated it with my wetness.
Head reeling, I opened my eyes and uncurled my toes, every inch of me trembling as I got up and quickly slipped the toy back in the box it came in. Then I put it back in the pink bag. It felt dirty to not wash it, but Jackson’s instructions had been clear, and he’d know if I cleaned myself off it.
After sliding my panties back on, I straightened the rest of my clothes and went back out to the kitchen to find my handbag, which I intended on slipping the pink vibe bag into before heading over to Jackson’s house. Frowning, I spotted the other letter again, still sitting on the counter where I left it earlier—the smaller one addressed to me in block letters. I figured I may as well quickly read it now, before I forgot about it again, because it could be something important. Something to do with my college financial aid, perhaps.
Reaching into the third kitchen drawer, I grabbed a sharp silver opener and carefully cut the top of the envelope open, and then I reached in and pulled the letter out. I nearly had a heart attack when I unfolded the paper. I knew this writing like the back of my hand.
This letter was from my mother.